the rug is up yawwwwn...

that's me tonight. I am stumbling around here. Got home late from Ma and Pas. Spent the day tearing up a 22 year old rug we had in the upstairs hall, 2 bedrooms and down the steps. We had it installed in 1986, just before my sister's wedding. A nice muddy off white which grew muddier over the years. It was long overdue. I love wood flooring, but at the time, we were all into the wall to wall carpeting. Trendy. I decided that I'd use these 5 days off to have the upstairs floors refinished.

My brother called me this morning just before I went over. I mentioned what I was doing and he told me about a guy he had met just yesterday who does flooring. Damian installs Fios Cable for Verizon. This was a customer of his. Damian was very impressed with him and suggested I call him to get an estimate. Turns out the guy lives right near my folks. He was able to come over within the hour and gave us a great price. So. 11 hours later, the rug and filthy foam padding is now in pieces rolled up at the curb. I think it took more time to yank out all the staples from the foam. Yeck. I felt like my skin and scalp was crawling with dust mites. While I was working up there, Dad came in with the sushi pizza. :-0 Sushi. Nothing like cold sushi and a beer when you are crawling with dust mites. Like having a meal and being a meal at the same time. Ew......I Couldn't wait to get home to shower it all off. Painting Dad's bedroom on Thursday, moving everything out on Friday and floors refinished Saturday. Parents going away for the weekend, so it should work out well.

Kinda wound up after all of that. Finally starting to get tired. That's it.

cash paid for winning? hmmm.....

http://www.worldwinner.com/

Guess What!!?

I got another baby girl!!! Yes, out of the blue, another child to sponsor from World Vision.

I didn't even ask for her and there she was...all bundled in my mailbox!

Remedie Luwengo Mulo
Born April 4 1999

That makes her just 9 years old. Wow. We've got a lot of catching up to do! She's got 4 brothers and 2 sisters. her community is badly infected with HIV/AIDS. She's in primary school and likes reading. Helps out by running errands.

Her file says she's out in there in County Congo. Excuse me. The Democratic Republic of Congo. Her project is called Kisantu.

YES! I'll take her! Cute little girl. Looks like me a little around the forehead. Only she's black. I hope this doesn't mean I was dropped by my other kid. Kind of getting a complex now. I did miss a couple of payments a few months last year. Mmmmm...Merlgine in Haiti, if you can read this, I am SORRY! I'll catch up. I promise you that. promise you that. promise you that...youuuuuull beeeeeee blessssssed.

Welcome aboard, Remedie.
I think I will try to write to this child. This time they provided information on how to get a letter to her. I wonder if it is actually delivered. It's worth a try. I still get bits of artwork from Merlgine now and then.

Happy Mother's Day.

http://www.worldvision.org/

Sushi Pizza

"sometimes I just want to slap him and then other times I just...want him".

overheard in the woman's locker room.

Scrabble Cubes!

where am I when I should be scrubbing the porch and loading laundry?

http://pc.gamezone.com/gamesell/p30359.htm

Scrabble Cubes. Absolutely sickeningly addictive. Fast paced and non-confrontational. Perfect for the isolated single adult who enjoys words but fears intimacy.

Hi, I'm Geegirl79 and I am in the bottom 16th percentile!

international translator

Mathias Loibner- a hurdy gurdy, mind numbing concert

यौंग@हार्ट- इ वान्ना बे sedated

young@heart- i will survive

whadaya hear

They pay me well to color with fat crayons
Sometimes I tend to feel like Mother Goose
The old men are preoccupied
with gettin' on my better side
so pour me up another glass of juice.
HEY! HEY! HEY!

(Chorus)
Whadaya whadaya whadaya hear me sayin'?
Whadaya whadaya whadaya wanna do?
Maybe ya can't appreciate
how much I need a bloody date
For now the elderly will have to do.

I like to challenge all of them to checkers
and not a better player you will find
I'll take the ragged old man on
and help him stagger to the john
so long as he can wipe his own behind!
HEY! HEY! HEY!

Chorus

Now don't be makin' fun of all the old men
we ladies have our crosses to bear too
you can bet we have no aim
spin the bottle
take the shame
and in the end we're lame and so are you.
HEY! HEY! HEY!

Chorus

Hotel California

Celebrity Bingo at the Day Spa

I was sitting in this office here today when I remembered that I left a man, a new member, in the 'spa'. Isn't that nice? Wheeled him in and forgot all about him. The Spa is really just a large white bathroom with the tub, toilet, and sink in it. Of course there are possibilities. It has a heater which can heat the room to the sauna stage, so in that respect, it could be a spa. Just right now, it's mostly a bathroom. With a shower. Still. You open the door expecting candles and a massage table. Soft music. Dim lighting. The sounds of water dripping from somewhere or maybe a thunderstorm followed by heavy rain, the fragrance of coconut oil wafting a tropical Breeze. Andreas Vollenwieder on the harp. I don't know. I try to draw from my limited experience to create something special out of nothing. An illusion of something splendid beyond the sign. And so in great anticipation of this marvelous transformation, a basket of products, ointments, powders, lotions and gray hair tints were brought from home. A couple of super absorbent towels no one had better touch. They can bring their own. At least I give a good shower. Make em forget they are in a bathroom. Well...not really. The ladies tell me I am too rough and they don't care for my singing. A rather disgusting thought. What kind of spa is this? Never mind. Get in there.

Anyway, it had only been a few minutes that I left him, but it felt like an eternity. Well. Not really an eternity. I just get this bad feeling when I forget these things. I guess it's that panicky feeling one would get if you suddenly realized you had left a child in the car and gone on to work. I don't even want to think about it. It's one of the reasons I am not comfortable working in a hospital setting. What ifs....The possibilities for drama are endless in this kind of work, and i just don't want to have to deal with those kind of scenarios. I don't want any trouble here. So, I head down the hall. The door is coming up. I stop in front of it... I have no idea what I am going to find behind it... It's a heavy door and he's not in any shape to be pushing it open from a w/c. Is he on the bowl? is he on the floor? Where is he gonna be?...OK, i have this rule that no one dies on my time here. I have had a few close calls but we always manage to get em out of here before that happens. Problem breathing? Call 911. Losing consciousness? 911. I just don't want to have to start CPR on anyone here. I don't wanna be using those pads...CLEAR!! Jolting members, in front of other members. Too much drama.

So I opened the door and he's sitting there waiting patiently on the other side in his w/c with his Oxegen up his nose.

" Hey. You made it back into the chair. Great. OK. Were you waiting long?"

" No."

" Were you calling me? I couldn't hear down the hall."

" Not yet. You said you'd be back."

"I guess you can just use the regular men's room then." I was thinking it was no favor to confine him in the spa, as long as he get's around so well. I could wedge that the door open alittle, so he can get out. No sense making him dependant.

"Where are we going now? I am kind of tired." I take him back to the activity room and tell him that he has to join the group.

"No more sleeping in the Library today, Mr. X. You know, you dam well can do that at home. I have to get you in with the group. You're gonna LOVE this.".

" I hate Bingo."

"Well sit tight, Mr. X. This is no ordinary Bingo. This is CELEBRITY BINGO! Are you strapped in? Got your marker?"

Frances had just gotten Bingo.

"OK, Fran, read off your numbers." They have to be sure. It's only fair.

" Diagonal. Marg Simpson, 46, FREE SPACE, 25 13."

Nice Job Frances. Give her a point.

(Points add up to shopping coupons at our Country Store at the end of the month).

Meanwhile, we have another winner at 'Table 9' ( I find that numbering the tables adds to the excitment---anything to add the excitment around here, as long as nobody dies~

" Bingo!"

" Read em off, Ant."

" Princess Di, 47, 57, Carol Brady, Penny Marshall."

" I didn't call Penny Marshall yet.

" Oops".

" That's okay. Let's keep going 'till lunchtime!"

And they are happy. So this is what it all boils down to. What we are all waiting to retire for. Bingo winnings. I watched a couple of you tubes and it doesn't look any more exciting in the real world, though I feign excitement. There's gotta be more than this. Guitar Hero!!! sigh. out of budget, and though i know we just picked up the Wii Bowling, Baseball and Carnival Games edition, They want Bingo. Ask for it even. Bingo and Buffet. sigh.

Why is Bingo associated with senior citizens? Why do these people love it so much? I use to think it took little or no skill to play it. A mindless game, I thought, and then I realized that you have to be able to pay attention. It's a different kind of skill. You have to stay alert if you want to catch those numbers being called. It's really hard for a person with attention deficit disorder. I can't seem to scan the cards with the ease of a senior. I suspect that my mind goes on and off intermittantly, like a blinking light, i think. A bobble head? I hope not. I can scan cards but I need more time than most. I don't know. Much prefer Scrabble.

oh baby

!Fiesta~

In the spirit of Cinco de Maya, I decided it would be nice to whip up a fiesta for my parents and nephew. Found a nice knock off of a green Fiestaware dish at a local
antique store which put me right in the mood. That settles it. Shopped for my ingredients and prepared it all at my place and loaded up the car for the trip over to their house. No taco, No burrito. Fajitas Y Enchiladas. I went the extra half mile and mashed up a batch of guacamole, however realized too late that I was short on Jalapenos and couldn't do the Excita Frighta salsa without them. that's OK. You have to have had my delightful EF salsa to know what you are missing, and I don't think I ever made it for them. It would have been nice to have the Mexicali music but 'the game' was playing in the background which was festive enough for Dad. Mom was busy writing a letter to the lady who lives behind them. She's trying to get a tree cut down in our yard which is up behind the pool and is hoping that the woman will permit her to access the tree from their yard. no mention of the truck which will have to drive in their backyard.

" Are you going to offer her some kind of monetary compensation for letting you use her yard?"

" Well...I would let them use my yard for free."

" Yeah but does she know there's truck involved, and would you let anyone drive a truck into your yard to get to a tree on their property?"

" I didn't mention it in my letter... She knows there's trucks involved. She's been taking down trees for years. I did let them into my yard with a truck once.

" For what?"

"They were giving me the mulch from a tree they took down."

" Well...that's sort of different. That for your benefit. So maybe you could offer the mulch."

" I don't think she's gonna want the mulch. She probably won't be home when I'm having it done. She knows about the trucks..."

" I would remind her, Ma. She's going to come home to truck prints in her yard. Can you imagine..."

" Yeah. I don't want her suing me for damages. Ruining her septic."

" Exactly. Now are you ready for this fiesta?"

"I have to drop this letter off at the neighbors house."

So anyway, Mom walked around the block to drop off her letter. I hope it all works out for them. They are about to open the pool again. Same pool has been there for 40 years. Well different liners. Different water. I think they are using the same water now for 2 years...same water. I think every year ought to start out with fresh water.
Out with the old.

So anyway, the fiesta went over nicely. Ant is recovering from a stomach virus and his GF is trying to hook me up with a guy who does pyrotechnics. I am leery.

Excita Frighta Salsa ( Frighteningly Exciting Salsa)

6-8 of whatever kind of tomatoes you like. Chop 'em up. I usually use about 4-6 medium ones or more for a good batch.
One yellow onion chopped.
One Jalepeno (or small can) chopped. Either way you have to go easy with them, and don't rub your eyes at any time during, or after touching them. ( reference poem- Flaming eye of the Chili Man'- my friend burned his eyes while putting in his contact lenses, after washing his hands. You have to use a 5 part water to one part bleach solution on your hands to get the residual oils off
Cilantro chop the leaves.
Sea Salt/Fresh ground Pepper ( no pepper corns. We hate pepper corns)
Loin of Lime. Lime juice and lemon juice is absolutely vital to this recipe. You leave out these items and it's just not as frighteningly exciting.

ANOTHER OPTION IS TO DUMP ALL OF THESE INGREDIENTS INTO A FOOD PROCESSOR. That's fine. Better even. The less touching of the ingredients, the better. Go easy with the Jalepeno. you can ruin this if it's too hot. you have to add the salt/pepper and lime and try it...add a little of this, a little of that...keep trying it until you are frighteningly excited. Enjoy!

Flan is always nice for dessert, but I transferred it from one dish to another and wrecked it. You have to leave it set for an hour at least, and even then, you just have to turn it over. No transferring from one container to another. Ramikens are perfect for this sort of thing. I happened to have a few Creme Broulee ala Jello sitting around which went over well. French...Mexican... who cares? Fiesta!

Time Out

Though it's easy to speak of great joy
and remember my Savior
I'm baffled sometimes, yet amused
by my own strange behavior.

I know you would not want
to hear all this stuff
so I bagged it all up
'cause enough is enough

somewhere between nothing and something
I'm feeling indifference
to spare you the details I speak in the vagueness
of inference.

It's not everyday
that we love and we lose
but it happened to me
and it's time that I choose.

I stand at the doorway of reason
and see that I'm failing
I know that it's not the right season
but want to go sailing.

the edge of the keel will cut
through the ice
and time out to heal
well it sounds really nice.

Let me drift thought my sorrow
and sort through the things that I'm feeling
and back here tomorrow
I'll help you to paint up the ceiling.

you find yourself working
and that is the way
you hold it together
and get through the day.

We all have to cope with these things
and we know that it's coming
our lives are like houses
emotions are just like the plumbing.

you plan it all out
and try not to rush
keep the lines clear
and be sure to flush.

I threw out some pictures of you
cause I just had to edit
and now I could cry for I knew
that I'd someday regret it.

well I can't be a martyr
i had to remind
that to beg steal or barter for love
is unkind.

Oh so easy to speak of great joy
and remember my Savior
I'm baffled sometimes,yet amused
by my own strange behavior.

and here is where endings are easy to find
to look towards the past or to leave it behind.

Yeah, so easy to speak of great joy
and remember my Savior
I'm baffled sometimes, yet amused
by my own strange behavior.

six words sentances pass the time

what's with the Rum and coke?

I don't get it at all.

I think I would prefer milk.

Cold Rice Dream and Special K.

i like writing 6 word sentences.

it is a nice of writing.

you can always drop a word.

From now on no one bother me.

I need to go to the gym.

the gym has become my life.

it's really a stinking pathetic shame.

do apostrophes count as two words?

like some kind of sick game.

this is how people go crazy.

I am so tired of doing nothing.

It's time to think about retirement.

I prefer the here and now.

will I be forgotten and homeless?

or wind up in a trailer?

one can only hope for shelter.

tornadic activity is no longer exciting.

one can only last so long.

amongst picket fence posts and debris.

someone better get me my medication.

Captain, she is going to blow!!!

thoughts can be negative or positive.

i prefer to think new thoughts.

Six words which best define me?

i prefer the here and now.

6 words for now.

I think I'll take a nap.

les miserables

My Savior, Jesus of Nazareth, was a carpenter. My first husband was a carpenter. A carpenter came with this apartment. His name is Joe, and he was up here to look into my drippy 'men's room' ceiling about a month ago. He was going to get around to fixing it when he had some time.

"That's OK, Joe ", I told him, "it's not like an "emergency. It's the men's room.(Just off the dining room, for added effect) and not like I use this bathroom much."

Below that particular bathroom is a porch,so it's not like it's going to rain down into the guy's apartment below me. I added that it looks kind of artsy with those brownish streaks. Anything not to make his life more difficult. I'll just clean it up in here and fix that wall. Do some painting.

I did my best to soften the effects of water damage, wiping down the walls with a nice spray cleaner. There. I stepped back to size up the effect. You know, it's a nice distressed, shabby chic look which accentuates the hunter green claw foot tub. I love it!

To give a little less of an impression of poverty, I spackled over the spots where I had torn bubbling latex off the wet sheet rock, and painted over the streaming rust colored stains on the two walls. Came out nice. I then hung a little wooden shelf over it and found a lovely French 'Le Jardin' print to hang on the opposing wall.

The neat thing about the print was that it was done to look shabby, as if water were streaming down the walls around a shelf with things on it. The old yellowing and au naturale colors added the perfect ambiance. I couldn't afford to have that picture framed. Way way too expensive. I had decided to mount the print on a piece of 3/4" plywood from home depot. they cut it to match the print exactly. I also bought a bottle of matte finish Modge Podge and a picture hanger. Modge Podge is an Elmer's Glue type of adherent and sealant. You pour it into a plate or cake pan or paint thingy and roll it onto the back of the print and surface you want to adhere it to. Then, when it's all dry, you roll another layer of the stuff over the print. It dries within an hour.I painted the sides of the plywood to match the walls. The whole projecr was less than 20 bucks. 12 for the print which was 60% off at Michaels, 3 for the Modge Podge, and a buck for the picture hanger. I already had the roller on hand. Took me about an hour to complete and hang. Perfect. I waited with consternation for the next hard rain. It came with lightning and thunder. The rains pelted my roof and within an hour I heard the rain falling in the bathroom and had to see it...

Sure as I am the Throw-pillow Queen of Adelphia, the brownish streams of filthy roof water cascaded down alongside and over my print like a fountain at the bank, moistening the Modge Podge leaving a few random white lines which later dried clear. The ceiling dripped with, what I suspect to be, mold ridden tears of joy from various spots, mostly over the old fashioned tub. Drip Drip Drip... Where it was hitting the floor, I allowed it to puddle and stuffed paper towels in the cracks of the pine boards with which the carpenter had lined the 260 year old ceiling. It was almost like being in a cave watching the water drip forming stalagmites or tites. I secretly wondered what was going on under the boards and pushed up on them. The ceiling moved. Oh man...she's gonna collapse one day and I'll be able to bathe under the stars! No rush, Joe.

Now it's dried and you'd almost never know. The whole beautiful scene reminds me of a old man's public bath house right out of Deadwood, complete with my circa 1920s black and white photo of 2 geezers sitting around in a local country store, one smoking a stogie. I've got it so the one looks like he's watching the toilet. The eyes follow. I have a little metal sign which reads "Baths 25 cents...soap extra." Filth can be artful, when it's merely a suggestion or staged. Photographed. I do my best to present a clean image of filth and it's enemy... soap. The soap is staged. A large block of odorless whale fat stamped with the numbers 250 Grams and a wooden brush. I scented the room with somekind of stinking aftershave. Actually that was a mistake. It came with the diffuser and was called Ocean Breeze but it should have been called O'shit Breeze. Or Ocean Fart. It's awful! That stink which is created when you try to mask an offensive odor with cheap sweet aftershave? You don't even need to have an offensive odor going on. This stuff works on your mind to pull up your last run-in with a residual stench. Seriously. I almost puked. So I chucked it out and refilled the ornamental jar with frankincense and lavender oils in a vegetable oil base. The Ocean Breeze wound up spilling outside and now it keeps the ferrel cats away. There's still a remnant of stench which smells just slapped on. Every night now, I am greeted at the door by Old man Ocean Breeze. Pheww! It all sounds so miserable but it's not. Not really. Anyway, I don't use that bathroom. It's reserved for the men who visit. ;) Folks like my Dad. And brothers if they ever need a restroom. Course they can also use the 'Ladies Room' which I did in an Oceanic theme. Sans the Ocean Breeze.

After the heavy rains, I returned to the men's room to assess the damage. Like an artist, gravity had faux painted the walls again. Nice accent to that picture. No one can tell that the ceiling leaks when the wood dries. I bet that's why they put it up there. I think the ceiling is probably like wet cardboard by now. I hope they replace it before the mold comes. Seriously. I wiped up the puddles and threw the dirty looking towel over the tub. As if a dude really lives here. Not a bad idea. I read once about a single woman who left mens workboots outside her door to ward off intruders.

I would very much like someday for someone to actually use that tub, maybe leave a proverbial ring. Maybe I'll hold off on the showers for a couple of days.... The way I'm talking here, that's the only ring I'm ever going to wind up with. That said, any dirt bags need a bath out there? No? That's OK. I know in my heart of farts that Mark Twain would have been proud to use my men's room.

I think I'm going to have call Joe again.

on Miley's artsy photo

" Over my dead body"

Six Word Challange

six words to describe me:

forgive me for saying so but...

you can't always count on me.