Blogaversary Twelve

A dozen years ago today I did what a number of people were telling me to do. You should blog! Start your own blog! I think at least a couple of them were annoyed with me for leaving lengthy comments on their blogs. They may have been intimating that I had a great deal to say and that perhaps I should stake out my own space on the interwebs to do just that. Despite that the fact that I seldom do what I am told, I did what I was told. 570,213 page views, 1000 comments, and 3481 post later, here we are. Thanks for stopping by. Thanks for commenting. Writing about the inane as well as occasionally the divine has proven to be a great outlet and an often daily challenge. Indeed, the internet was created as a forum in which we can argue with total strangers and post pictures of cats. And where would we be without that. 

Frosty Glass

A number of years ago, various nieces and aunts were cleaning out the old farmhouse at the family farm. It hadn't been occupied for twenty or so years and was rapidly becoming a hazard as the weather and time took their toll on the structure. When the work was done we divided up the treasures found within and nobody else wanted this etched glass window but me. Probably because it was covered in bird poop and layers of dust and crud. It now hangs in my dining room, I must say that it cleaned up nicely. Colleen's recent photos of fancy frost on her window so much reminded me of my rescued window! Now you get to see it, too!

Lacy Frost

My friend Colleen lives on a windswept hill in eastern South Dakota. They are currently experiencing a stretch of sub-zero temperatures caused by a polar vortex. She noted these beautiful frost formations on a window and took several photos. I survived decades of brutal winters on the plains, but I have never seen anything quite like this.

Bulletin Board

If I had eyes in the back of my head right at this very moment, this is what I would see. Isn't this fun?

This

We Must Feed Our Minds as Well as Our Souls

Love Light

This Girl Rocks!

I had the pleasure of hearing Chelsea Williams last week on the opening night of her 2019 tour. She was absolutely enthralling as Marc Cohn's opening act. All I have to say is, if she is playing anywhere remotely close to where you abide, go see her! That is all.

Full Circle

It seems eons ago. A man I was mildly attracted to sang this song to me on karaoke night in one of the seediest bars in town. I was seated at the bar with a Boulevard wheat in front of me when he took the mic and started crooning. He was working the room as he sang and eventually got down on one knee in front of me just as he was belting the lyric ma'am I am tonight. Turned out that the moment he was kneeling that night was the peak of our short-lived, so-called relationship. I'm a process sort of girl so I need to let things run their course. Who knows why, to gather fodder for writing or because I'm not smart enough to run when the running's good. Fast forward to this last Wednesday evening when I was privileged to be in the room to hear a soulful rendition of Walking in Memphis from the man who wrote the song. Thank you, Marc Cohn. I can check you off my bucket list of artists I want to see live. You are part of the soundtrack of my life. Hearing you sing so many beautiful songs shook the dust off of a regrettable memory and shooed it out the door. I am forever grateful.

Fishy! Fishy! Fishy!

This is Newton's favorite thing. Fancy Feast Trout Feast. I can't say it looks or smells significantly different or more desirable than other canned cat food, but we all have our druthers. Even though I love fish, I have not been tempted to taste it in order to verify how fabulously delish it is. I will bow to Newton's superior palate in this regard. Who knows why cats prefer anything they eat. To me, it's all pretty much negated by the fact that they lick their butts. In order to satisfy his food demands, last week I went to five retail establishments five! to procure this particular variety of Fancy Feast, finally finding it at an inflated price at PetCo. I bought six cans anyway. Solidifying the popular notion that dogs have masters, cats have staff. Job security is important to me so I have also purchased a case of the stuff online at a bargain price. We have an agreement, after all. He loves me as long as I feed him. 

It Snowed Last Night!

Always Carry Sharpies

I saw Marc Cohn in concert last night. He's terrific live. He autographed my arm. Yes, I will be washing that arm again. No, I will not get his signature tattooed in to make it permanent. But I will be keeping that pink Sharpie forever.

Food Art

And, yes, the poinsettia is still alive.

Heads or Tails?

What's the formula? Your eldest child's age plus seven? Half your current age plus seven? Wait, in my particular circumstance those numbers end up the same. So. I have one word for you. Bodyguard. The British crime/thriller/spy show currently running on Netflix. Now I expect you're wondering what the formula has to do with Bodyguard. Nothing, really. Except to say that I heartily approve of the older woman, younger man thing going on in that series. Don't bother to ask if heartthrob Richard Madden, who plays former military, current cop assigned to protect a high-ranking member of the government David Budd, fits neatly into the age ratio formula. Because he doesn't. Not in my case, anyway. But if we use the number that I often get guessed at agewise, yes, then, he just squeaks in under the wire. Though on the eldest child's age plus seven we still fail. Which puts us in coin flipping toss territory. All I know is, I'm regressing into an old, bad habit of finding a deeply broken man seriously attractive. As if me sinking my gentle claws into him will draw out his pain and heal him. Maybe not so gentle. Good thing he only exists on television. That saves everyone a great deal of trouble. 


The obvious edit was done due to the fact that it appeared upon a quick read-through prior to hitting the publish button that I was faux swearing. Something you ought to know I damn well fucking stay the hell away from. 

Especially Tonight

In The Kitchen

Unintentional indoor gardening.

But Can You Find it in a Blizzard?

I've more or less adjusted to seeing this car in the driveway. So far I've been able to find it in parking lots, but that's mostly luck. Following the fender-bender last September, the Outback finally went to the body shop on Monday of last week. Because they found more damage when fixing it commenced it's taken a week longer to repair than the original estimate. With any luck, I will have my blue Subaru back tomorrow. And what have I learned from ten days of driving a Hyundai Elantra, you might ask? Well, obviously that I wouldn't buy one. The only way that it is superior to my Outback is that it has an "open trunk" button on the remote which is helpful with loading groceries. It's not a terrible car, not a terrific one either. And I remain somewhat bemused over the fact that I've been driving around in a car with expired Illinois license plates.

Nameless in Blue

Last week I asked Reid if I could semi-permanently borrow some Lego blocks. Specifically, some blue Lego blocks. So I could properly light up this blue glass head with the wiry cord thing sporting an on/off switch that is fitted with a blue light bulb. Earlier I tried simply setting the head over it but the results were lackluster. Before that I stuffed a couple of strings of blue lights inside but that created too much heat. I needed a six inch or so tower of blue Lego blocks to raise the light bulb and conceal the glaring white cord. I also needed some small supports for the base of the head to allow for the cord to have passage without tilting the whole business and also to allow for any heat buildup from the tiny wattage bulb to escape. A project of this magnitude required the clearing of the dining room table to create a suitable work space.

Now situated on a trunk in my office, the blue glass head can be seen modeling my pink pussy hat. This would be in the lights off mode.

Here we see the blue glass head of indeterminate gender modeling the pink pussy hat in lights on mode. The blue glass head really needs a name. Two years ago, while wearing a blue Santa hat, I was calling the glass head Elvis, but that just didn't stick. Then Andrea came to visit and together we came up with Dana but that really hasn't grown on me, either. Any suggestions would be appreciated.

It's a Mouse's Life

Remember this? The packaging says that I will get 18 months use from the AA battery that comes with the mouse. There is also a totally lame disclaimer that says something about how "your use may vary the battery life". Earlier this evening the battery in my new mouse went kaput. After nineteen days of use. Nineteen days! Darn near three weeks. Good thing I have a supply of rechargeable AA's in the drawer in the kitchen. All I have to say is, eighteen months my ass, Logitec.

Contrast

Oh, Donny, Donny, the fact that you are proud of this spread is an indication of how far we have fallen. Michelle planted a vegetable garden and promoted an active lifestyle. You place fast food on silver trays as if it were intended for the gods. Oh, wait, in America we worship sports figures so you got that part right. At least you paid for it. Wait, you said you paid for it. Sources that I trust say that you lie on an average of nearly ten times per day. Because I'm a decent human being, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt on this one. And suggest that perhaps you should watch the food documentary Supersize Me. Oh, wait again, you're not interested in learning anything. Nevermind. 

Beyond Borders

Job Opportunity

I Need This Shirt

Please buy it for me.

Sisters

I Love This Kitty!

Newton has found a new cozy spot to hang out. Which explains why I feel his eyes boring holes through the back of my head when I'm sitting at my desk. Subliminally requesting treats and belly rubs. Sure, he looks all relaxed and he isn't looking at me now. As if he is mesmerized by the ball fringe on the lamp shade. But rest assured there are murderous thoughts racing through his cat brain at pretty much all times.

The Tipsy Blonde in the Living Room

Miss Tallulah is the last remaining Christmas decoration in the living room. The bears and Santas and snowmen are all put away. The trees are undecorated and dismantled and stowed. Miss T also looks as if she has imbibed a bit too much holiday cheer. Time for all of us to get back into the regular routine of things. Newton understands this better than anyone else in the house. He is currently pacing back and forth on my desk while I'm typing and leisurely trailing his tail under my nose. As if he took a holiday hiatus from this behavior. Note to self...if you don't alter your behavior, there is no period of adjustment getting back to that behavior.

Diamond Plus Four

1955. The first time my parents got married. To each other. Yes, there was a second wedding, and a second divorce. Had they stayed married the first time around, today would be their 64th anniversary. I can't get over how young and gorgeous they were. To be honest, this is how I prefer to remember them. Before four kids and the realities of commitment caused them to separate. Here, they're hopeful and they really don't know each other very well. I'm not certain, but I think they have known each other less than a year at this point. Ignorance is bliss, they say.

A Good Word

To kick off the new year, here's a pretty good word.