Happy Thanksgiving!

Yes, I fully realize I’m a bit early. But given the week ahead it’s now or never kids..

It’s going to be a bit sad I expect not having the Old Fart around to arm chair chef the entire meal.. Not surprisingly holidays were all about the food in my household growing up. Presents and all are swell, but when do we eat and what are we having??? As he aged and allowed his daughters to more or less take over the turning out the feast duties, he resigned himself to parking on a barstool with a glass of wine and making sure the two of us didn’t do anything contrary to the proper way, ie: HIS way. With the exception of the dressing, because truthfully he really was the only one that made it right, and I’ve been trying for 20 or more years.

Dora, did you brine that turkey overnight?

Yes, Daddy of course I did..

Baby Sister, did you bring that bag of sage we cut this morning? I don’t want any of that dried stuff on the bird.

Yes Pop, it’s right here...

Dora, did you make cornbread last night so I can make dressing?

Yes Daddy, I did..

You made pecan and pumpkin pies, right?

Yes Daddy, look right over there on the sideboard..

And on and on it would go until supper time. Two grown women, one of them a genuine chef with a degree, being bullied by their father- comical actually. There is however a reason Baby Sister and I usually managed to finish a bottle of wine before dinner..

So here’s to you Daddy, we’ll miss you this year and I’ll sing “Alice’s Restaurant” just for you- And for you lucky souls that won’t be in the kitchen for the performance- take it away Arlo..





Peace and all good blessings upon all your houses.

I need a pick me up..

Normally new shoes do it every time. Something red in cashmere perks me right up. A long afternoon at the day spa? Oh hell yes that does the trick no matter how tapped out I am.

However, as it’s November, Christmas is right around the corner and the bills from the long stay in the hospital from hell are wending their way into the mail box- I really can’t bring myself to spend any money on my usual non chemical antidepressants right now. So I cleaned my closets instead… I am a very disturbed person in obvious need of help. But on the plus side, I found a belt that had gone missing months ago and the shoe shrine is all nice and reorganized.

Who am I kidding? Productive, yes.. but I really want a day at the spa, a new red cashmere wrap and new shoes. I am so, so shallow. Sorry, I’m just too bloody tired of it all to wax poetic about gaining new strength of character and so forth. I’m quite a character as it is, thank you very much and I just want one stress free, drama-less day that involves no one asking me questions, expecting me to fix things or take care of their issues!

Tantrum over, I promise. Back to being practical, pragmatic and calm now. Thanks for listening, now back to your regularly scheduled lives.

Tag- I'm it..

My dear Wills decided to distract me with the ever popular closest book meme- and then proceeded to tag my usual victims.. shame on you!

Anyway here's the game. Open the book nearest your computer (and be honest not something artsy-fartsy so you can impress everyone) turn to page 56 and post the 5th sentence, plus a bit before and after for context.

Humm, well right next to my computer is a copy of the Virginia POA Act, revised edition.. not so interesting, trust me on this. So the next closest being my bedside table. On the top of the precarious stack is So Me, by Graham Norton. Yes, I adore Graham Norton, sue me.

On St. Patrick's Day a film crew was in the bar we were in near Vie de France. The people I was with brought the camera crew over because I was Irish. They asked me how I was planning to celebrate the saint's day. Full of lager and confidence I replied "I'm going to drink and drink and then go home and get sick" Well, I learnt a valuable lesson about programme making. When it was broadcast on the news the piece wasn't about St. Patrick's Day, it was about new tougher drunk driving legislation and by the time they edited my comments into the piece, I looked like some sort of crazed killer. Thankfully I don't vomit any more.

Well I'll choose the following victims and leave it up to them whether they wish to play along or not- Oh Al dear, you really haven't enough serious things to do you know.. yes you may yell at me later. I'm sure Jeff is reading something interesting, as no doubt is Red and his partner in crime The Maine Gay. The lovely Miss Booda, having escaped incineration hopefully didn't pack all her books to prepare to decamp if needed.

Now, I think I need to go attend to the teetering tower 'o books next to the bed before they fall on me or one of the dogs in the middle of the night.

I give myself excellent advice, I however rarely ever take it.

I should have heeded my own advice, asking “What next?” is an open invitation to more chaos.. But no, I had to open my big mouth..

I have indeed been much absent from blog land here of late due to overwhelming responsibilities requiring my attention. Also things have been such that anything that was likely to come out of my mouth would merely sound like annoying whining, and we know how I detest that..

Anyway, my thanks to my VGP for letting me ramble on, I do expect however when I pop up on caller ID , you most likely have to debate whether you pick up the phone or not, as it must be getting tiresome! But my loving thanks to Tater Bug, Tony and Al for stoically listening to me babble.. And Wills, check your junk email box dear, just in case I’ve landed there.. that or you just don’t love me anymore, sniffle… And all the lovely emails have been much appreciated dears, and to those of you that didn’t get a response, you’ll just have to forgive me this time.

Let’s see, where were we? The Beast is home convalescing. I’m somewhat concerned that he’s not progressing quite as well as either the doctor or I had presumed he would, but then again I will take slow over not at all any day of the week. My darling one and only nephew (son of Brother #1) had a rather nasty accident and crushed his right hand, numerous pins and a lengthy surgery later it appears that he’ll regain full use and all will be well. The Hurricane broke his right index finger playing football a few days ago, no shock there, the kid ought to have his own triage nurse by now honestly. The following day Brother #1, a generally cautious and methodical man if there ever was one, tried to sever his left index finger at work. All is well, no permanent damage.

The coup de gras to the hand related accidents (weird, huh?) I tried to slice my left thumb off the Thursday evening before Halloween while carving pumpkins. Thirty some odd years of disemboweling jack ‘o lanterns with nary a scratch and I had to pick now for the spectacular accident. Five stitches- and I have very small hands. Actually I was laughing my ass off as I was driving home from the ER.. I called Baby Sister and she was convinced I finally went off the high board and into the deep end. Hey, laugh or lose your mind.

Let’s see, other than that I have been much occupied at work. The general getting a brand new practice up and running and getting ready for a large open house to debut Doogie Houser MD to the community. Well we all know how I love to throw a party, but I’m having a bit of trouble getting into it truthfully, but hopefully it will indeed be a swell affair. My house looks like a herd of wildebeest migrated through and I find it very dismaying as I really haven’t had the time to address the accumulating chaotic mess. I tried hiring a wife/Beast sitter, it hasn’t worked out so well. Swell idea in theory, in practice I guess I chose the wrong candidate. Figuring I needed the help, a friend was unemployed and getting desperate so I pay her and everyone wins, right? Not so much. How do you tell someone you genuinely like that you don’t pay for napping on the job, and the point was to help me out not create even more work for me?? I couldn’t really afford it to begin with, but I had no choice as himself is still in need of a caregiver for a little while yet and it's a little hard to ask for 5 or 6 weeks off from a job you just started and actually do NEED. Another note to self- don’t hire friends it only leads to trouble..

The entire Executrix thing has been not only mildly annoying, but somewhat more emotionally upsetting than I would have anticipated. And I’m here to tell you, shopping for headstones is a real major bummer.

See, I told you it would all just end up sounding like whining. Gee, I guess that’s because it is. Be well dears, be safe and enjoy the thought that 1/20/2009 is closer with every passing day!!!!!!!!!

Is this a karmic sign or am I just being hopeful??

For the three of you who care, there is an update on the general drama coming, I swear. But this was too funny to let it sit for a week until I got around to it.
Some couples play golf or whatever together, the Beast and I vote together. Romantic, I know. Anyway, we got up at the crack of dawn to go vote before I left for work. We figured there would be a wait, so I decided to bring a camp stool, get there by 5:30, pull up and drop him off while I found a parking place. We get to the VFD and the parking lot is a zoo and folks are parking a quarter mile away or more. Since he can’t walk much yet, I was still determined to drop him off and then park and hike it on over.

I pull into the parking lot and it was a total cluster fuck.. people generally being idiots and trying to invent parking places that don’t exist so they didn’t have to walk. Beastman tells me this is not working and he’s sure he can make it from a reasonable distance. So, I decide to attempt to extricate myself from the mess. Meanwhile an asshole in a Hummer and an asshole in an Escalade (both with McCain/Palin bumper stickers -naturally) decide to totally block the only thing that passes for an egress from this disaster, blissfully unaware or simply not caring that they had cut off everyone in the entire parking lot from the only exit.

After a good bit of tricky backing and turning and maneuvering I get to the point where I’m nearly out of this disaster and what happens? Another asshole in an F-150 (guess again what he was sporting on the back of his truck) cuts off my only escape route and refuses to move- in spite of the fact that even in pitch dark it’s painfully obvious there’s no where to park and no way out but the sliver of open driveway I was trying to get through.

At this point yours truly was a wee bit annoyed, so I figure the only way out is to back up a bit further on the grass and scoot along as close to the ditch line as I could. I hear a thump on the passenger side in the rear.. Not loud enough to be a car, and I know full well there’s not a single vehicle parked on the embankment, so I was naturally wondering what the hell I could have hit, as there’s not a lot of anything that passes for a light source in the parking lot I couldn’t really make it out.

The Beast, being a terminal back seat driver, had been looking behind also. Suddenly he starts laughing hysterically. When he finally caught his breath he says “Honey, you just ran over Sarah Palin!!”

Sure enough, I had creamed the cardboard cut- out of Caribou Barbie that was parked next to the big obnoxious McCain Palin sign. He then says “Really dear, I know you can’t stand the woman, but isn’t that taking it a little too far?” I proceed to go into convulsive laughter myself and managed to not only ruin my mascara due to the tears, but also manage to give myself the hiccups.

Here’s hoping it was a sign from above!!!! Have a swell election day my dears and go get yourselves to the polls!!!!