We Soooooooo Tiny!

Hello, Kona Blend, It's Been Far Too Long

This falls under the heading Shameless Product Endorsement for Which I Receive Absolutely No Remuneration. It's delicious. Good morning, Tuesday. Let's be best friends.

Yes to Many Paths

Happy Birthday, Sister Pam!

She is ageless. She is a Southern Belle. She is the best present my brother Cullen ever gave me. Pssst! Don't tell anyone! She's a mermaid!

My Nightmare

But what a terrific premise for a sitcom! At the very least, this would breathe new life and humor into SNL.

Annual Chocolate Bunny Funny

To Have And To Have Not

Said the guy with questionable facial hair.

As an eyebrow challenged person, I found this to be funny. Eyebrow challenged, you say? Yes. It happened like this. I overtweezed in my teens. Just when they had mostly recovered, I let one of the sketchily trained makeup girls clean up that brow line when I was in my first college play. They never fully grew in again but I was able to fill in the thin spots and look pretty good. Then peri-menopause set in, slapping up my hormonal levels, digestive system, muddying my decision-making skills, and thwarting my eyebrow-growing abilities. By the time I hit fifty what was left of my eyebrows had faded considerably and the outer third of them had just fallen out. Leaving me with a pair of pitiful parentheses hovering over my eyes. Through trial and error with powders and pencils I eventually figured out how to render new eyebrows convincingly. I have been told by many that they look really good and had never suspected that my brows are, for the most part, artfully applied makeup. It doesn't hurt that my eyebrows are viewed through a veil of bangs. That said, I have developed a sort of intolerance for poorly penciled in brows. I admit it, I make value judgments of other women based on their obviously painted on eyebrows. I am that shallow. It would often be better if they didn't bother at all. If Whoopie Goldberg can successfully adopt this look, you can, too! For me personally, though, I generally don't leave the house without my eyebrows. If I do, the fact that they are missing is hidden behind my large sunglasses. I remain convinced that at a certain age, the eyebrow hairs jump off while we are sleeping and stolidly take root in the chin area. Tweezers are a girl's best friend. 

I Love This Honeybear

He goes by many names. Joshua Tillman aka J Tillman aka Father John Misty. His lyrics are twisted, his melodies floaty and ethereal, and his voice makes me crazy with fannish, mesmerized adoration. There are several tour stops within a reasonable driving distance. Somebody stop me.

Listen!

The road trip to KC was made much less tedious due to a particular pod cast. We listened to several installments of Sawbones. If your tastes tend toward the bizarre and you have a strong stomach you must listen! Every week Dr. Sydnee McElroy and her husband Justin take you on a magical, mysterious, and, yes, often gross tour of a particular facet of medical history. You will learn more about bogus medicine than you ever thought possible. And then when you share this information you will find yourself able to stop dinner party conversation dead in its tracks. This is a super hero power. Use it wisely. Oh, the theme song kicks ass and you will hear it reverberating in your head for days. A very good thing. What are you waiting for? Click on the link!

Dueling Andis

The AndiGirlz were up and dressed on Pi(e) Day morning while I was still in my flannel pajamas. They were armed with a shopping list and directions to a nearby grocery store. Since I drove my Outback was parked in the driveway. I had forgotten how cute it is when kids ask to borrow the car. I handed over the key and told them not to break it. When they returned with makings for pie and lasagna they were laughing (Andrea) and looking a tiny bit sheepish (AndiBean) about AndiBean's inadvertent shift into my car's off road semi manual mode. I told her not to break it but she just had to try. My car is fine. This little adventure was made even funnier when I went upstairs to shower and dress and checked my phone. There were text messages there from each of them.

From Andrea: Andi's going to wreck your transmission.

I do love a tattle tail.

From AndiBean: Your car is fine. I just somehow engaged fake-manual mode instead of automatic drive. Hahaha. Figured it out!

I also love owning a dorky mishap.

They never fail to entertain me.

You Can't Make Me Like Him!

It wasn't presented as a challenge. But when I declared that Will Farrell was not my cup of tea, JT Phlaan took it as one. Okay, maybe I used stronger words. Like revulsion. Over-actor. Possibly short on talent and fearless about it. JT claimed to not only know of, but possess a copy of something called Stranger Than Fiction. He then reeled me in by mentioning that Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal are in it, too. Stop it! I love Emma Thompson and Maggie Gyllenhaal!  And shut up about Dustin Hoffman and Queen Latifah who also appear as pivotal characters! Because I like them, too! I came to the conclusion that all those positive casting choices just might make up for Mr. Farrell's presence. So now I must grudgingly allow Will Farrell to share this planet with me. I loved this movie! I cared about what happened to him! He even made me cry. Okay, fine, he can act. But this may very well be that proverbial exception that proves the rule. You can't make me like Will Farrell, but I have a sizable soft spot for Harold Crick. This film challenge round goes to JT.

Dear Li'l Sis

Less than a week ago you texted me to say that my fave guy, Kyle Chandler*, was appearing in a new Netflix series called Bloodline. I am now confessing that I binge-watched all thirteen episodes and can't possibly survive if I don't get more soon!! All I have to say is, what a tangled web we weave! Watch this series and don't avert your gaze for a single second or you will miss an important plot point! Don't eat anything crunchy or you will find yourself backing up to hear missed dialog! Did I already command y'all to watch? Okay. Thanks, Lil' Sis. I did enjoy.

*My most sincere apologies to John Cusack and Nathan Fillion. I still adore you.

  

So Long, Spitfire

I develop a weird attachment to cars. Even to ones I dislike. Not that I disliked this one. Meet the Pontiac Sunfire, that I have nearly always referred to as the Spitfire. I don't normally christen vehicles with a nickname but I mistakenly uttered Spitfire early on and forever after struggled to call it by its real name. It was Michael's car. When he and Liz moved to Seattle, the Spitfire came to live with us and Reid has used it for his work, errand, and other evil purposes. It had been cranky about starting this winter so nearly three weeks ago Reid drove it to the shop. A couple of days later we got the diagnosis. It was code for waaaay too much money to put into a car of this age and general condition. I only drove it one time, the approximately half a mile from the parking lot at M&L's to my driveway. But I did ride shotgun a number of times with one of my sons at the wheel and I will remember those times fondly. Today I picked up the license plates and handed over the spare key and said goodbye. No, I didn't cry. Isn't it cute?

Back in the Saddle

I am not one of those busy, overscheduled people you might hear about. Really. It's just that for the last week I've had a lot of crap to do. I have also found it impossible to download the photos I took in Kansas City! And also impossible to borrow photos that others took during the Pi(e) Day Surprise. So now I'm attempting to regroup and get some posting done. Thank you for your patience. But seriously, it's Friday night! You ought to be out on a hot date rather than looking at this sort of stuff on the internets! I do understand, though. I know! Let's have a beer! Grab a beverage of your choice and stay tuned.

Thanks For Showing Up!

Leave a comment and I'll return the favor.

Mmmmmmm, Beer

Paired with sliders I must say this was quite enjoyable. Not just any slider, mind you, but a bacon, avocado, sharp cheddar cheese slider on a garlic butter toasted bun. Then there's this other stuff, you might call it a relish, that we heap on top that I make with carmelized onion and diced mushrooms with just a sprinkle of pink Himalayan salt. The best burgers are messy, that's what I always say, and even better with a beer. 

Everybody! Grab An Egg!

Auspicious Beginnings

It's a cosmically potent day, boys and girls. A total solar eclipse has taken place, a New Moon rules the night sky, and Spring arrives. Miracles could occur! Maybe my lawyer will call me back. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

Break All The Rules!

This is Your Wakeup Call!

At just after nine this morning, some no-name called me from Area Code 000. The number being 000-0000. When I tried to call them back, Verizon informed me that my call cannot be completed as dialed, to please check the number and dial again. It seems that I can receive a call from the Twilight Zone, but my plan doesn't include returning the call. If the MotherShip is arriving today and the 000-000-0000 call was my notification, I just have too many other things to tend to. They really ought to call me and make an appointment.

Was That the Doorbell?

This is a mite twisted, so please bear with me. You wouldn't be here in the first place unless you were mildly entertained by the meandering processes of my brain, right? For the past couple of weeks I have been attempting to conjure up a fantasy of engaging in human mating behavior with JTP. Not for my own amusement, mind you, but for a specific reason. For the most part it has come to pass that when I experience sex in my head with a certain someone, whether deliberately evoked while awake or spontaneously generated while sleeping, such activity does not take place in the corporeal world. In other words, if it happens figuratively, it's a literal no-go. So it makes perfect sense that if I accomplish an imaginary intimate interchange with JTP, this is insurance against it ever happening! As of this hour I have failed in manifesting this prophylactic fantasy. I guess I'm just going to have to deal with it in the real world. Not that there is any indication of romance lurking around the corner. I expect what I have been doing is an attempt to circumvent any likelihood of a real-world situation that I would prefer not to face. JTP would be amused by my psycho-social experiment.  All I have to say is, you can't fight destiny. It has a habit of arriving on your doorstep whether you want it or not. 

Thumbs Up Their Butts Dept.

I no longer have words to describe how I feel about my state's representatives in Washington. Those as well as all of the obstructors of progress who seemingly have nothing to offer but their willingness to be ineffectual while they rail on about their dearly held opinions rather than fact. On camera. Bleah. I have taken to posting Sylvester Jr in his oh, father, I'm so ashamed guise as a comment. I like to think of it as my a-picture-paints-a-thousand-words contribution to the conversation. 

The Ides of March

I know, I know, the Ides was yesterday. But this is too funny not to share. I would love to give a photo credit but this randomly appeared on Facebook with no clue as to its origin. Et tu, Brute.

Amused & Bemused

The title describes moi. We could continue through the alphabet with calculated, debarred, effusive, facile, gauche, and so on, to describe the particular situation which unfolded Saturday evening. But I'll get to the point instead. My phone twirps its text notification tone. I check my messages and discover a request from a friend to host a backyard fire. Since I was four hundred or so miles away I declined. Perhaps a bit abruptly but I was hanging out with the AndiGirlz in the midst of Pi(e) Day activities with Courtney and Royce. I generally respond to text messages right away or I have a tendency to forget, so in the interest of rejoining the people I was actually with I texted back and set my phone aside. I didn't give it any more thought until Facebook revealed to me that this friend, plus a few others, had attended an activity together earlier on Saturday. An activity I had been included in a year ago but had not been invited to this year. I vaguely remember mentioning the Pi(e) Day road trip well over a month ago to this group. But that leaves me wondering. Hmmmm. If they remembered I was going to be out of town, that's a very reasonable explanation for being left out of St. Paddy's Day festivities on Saturday. But if I was gone, how could I possibly host a fire pit party? On the other hand, if they deliberately excluded me, isn't it just a bit nervy to invite themselves over afterwards? Just after receiving the text concerning the fire pit party, I got a text from another member of the group inquiring about getting a drink somewhere because he was bored, likely a group message sent to several of us. Was the group text meant to cover their faux pas? I don't know and it's not likely I ever will. Things have been a little chilly lately in this group of friends, I have only been out with them one time thus far this year. The last couple of years nary a week has gone by without getting together at one of our homes or out for drinks. Maybe it was just a case of poor communication, that's what makes the most sense to me. I'm not one to see a conspiracy around every corner which is why I find myself amused. My experience with groups like this in the past has demonstrated that like yogurt, they have an expiration date. Maybe not clearly stamped on the container but things do change. When one thing lapses, other things rise up to take their place. Or it may be that new opportunities present themselves and old diversions are abandoned in their favor. I don't like to think of people as opportunities or diversions, I prefer to think of such bonds as something deeper and more meaningful. Whatever is going on here, I don't take it personally. I accept the fluid nature of life for what it is without demanding explanation. 

My Most Sincere Apologies

Have I really not been here in nearly a week? I must confess it has been a busy one. Between the death of the Spitfire, massive piles of laundry, a teensy bit of drywall hanging and painting, and the Pi(e) Day Surprise road trip to Kansas, things have been busy. Please do stay tuned, all will be explained soon. Plus the AndiGirlz introducing me to something called Sawbones. Really. 
  

Moving On

No, the lawsuit isn't settled. No, my house isn't quite ready to go on the market. But moving is on my mind and I find that the more I actively move forward with cleaning out and neatening up and packing away things, the more it is feeling like reality. A reality I have been focused on for a while, as in, I am now in the fifth year of my five year plan. Thus far I have pared down my belongings quite a bit through rummage sales and gifting and donations to Goodwill. I estimate that one roomful of furniture has gone out the door, though another roomful is designated to go in the near future. Holiday decorations, collectibles, and books have had their volume halved. Dishes and other kitchen items must go, and my closets need a serious going through. As I take on one room at a time and clean and organize and remove the trappings that truly make this not just a house but my home, it is slowly becoming a house that will be someone else's home. This eases the transition in a way I did not anticipate. For me, selling this house that I have lived in for nearly twenty-nine years is just as much an emotional transaction as it is a financial one. I moved in as a newlywed and brought both of my newborn sons home here. Over the years multiple holidays and birthdays were celebrated. Family and friends gathered here, I am happy to say, far more often for joyful occasions than sad ones. I'm ready to leave, to move on to a new home and start the next phase of my life. There are still some sizable hurdles to jump but I'm ready for those, too. I'm not just waiting for my ship to come in, I'm preparing for its arrival. Once again, it feels good to be here.

If It Dies, It Dies

Last September Karen sent this plant home with me. It looked pretty sad. Anytime it was moved or touched or even watered it would shed leaves like crazy. I knew what she was up to, though! It was my job to determine if the pitiful thing was worth the effort to keep alive. My theory is that if a plant withers and dies in my care, that's no real surprise when you take my brown thumb into consideration. But if it flourishes, then clearly it is a hardy plant that thrives on neglect and would be a good one to keep around. I trimmed it back and tended it carefully and it continued to shed leaves. When the weather became cold, I moved it indoors to my south-facing basement window along with the other wintering-over plants. Over the months it has put out some new, healthy shoots and started setting buds. In the last couple of weeks the buds burst open into these colorful blossoms that remind me of tiny tiger lilies. It will be interesting to see what it does outdoors this summer. My magical brown thumb advice? Bright window, water, and ignore. I expect she may want it back now that it's on the mend.

Um, No.

I hope this isn't for me. It doesn't smell interesting in the least. Not like, fishy, or anything. So, is it for me? And where is the catnip doll that I fell in love with a couple of months ago?

Sorry, Newt, this book is not for you. But it seems that it's not for me, either! This is not the book I ordered!!

This is the book I ordered! You got it right on the packing slip! Back to B&N you go! The customer service people were very nice on the phone. And Newt, your catnip loaded buddy is in the laundry room awaiting a little reconstructive work. Love hurts.

Context and Perspective

He Lived Long, And Prospered

So sad over the passing of this most talented and gracious human being. Or half human being in his iconic role as Spock. I can't say that I understood many of the plot lines or characters of Star Trek when I first viewed them as a child. But subsequent viewings as an adult helped me appreciate how groundbreaking the series was for its time. Seeing this video today left me filled with awe and joy. As if that's not enough, I was also not aware of a photography book that he published called The Full Body Project. It didn't sell very well but it made an impact on those who did peruse a copy. I just love this man more and more all the time.

TigerCat

Yes, the Christmas decorations have long since been put away. Even this. But I forgot to post this sweet pic of Newton helping me with the lights. Since Newt is a cat, I use the word helping rather loosely. Cat code for help is impede. But just look at that cute little face!