Catch up on my doings, lately

Though it really didn't do the orange justice, this is some of the smoke we've been living with/moving in. I gotta tell you, breathing in this is kind of a miserable experience. MM and I had to be careful, and plan our time outside wisely. We seem to be getting control of some of our fires near here, and though they predicted more thunder and lightning this weekend (and probably more fires) Knock on wood, we've had none, yet. We don't want any. Rain, though? Yes, please. Most of California has decided that fireworks ARE NOT a good thing this Fourth of July. So we won't be having any. I actually don't mind.
*edit to add* oops. Off on the picture marking. But I am sure all you smart people can figure out what is what in here. Oh well

So. See this stuff here? (or rather, down there?)

That's right. It is a paint additive. And yes, it says "Fresh Air" on it. There was also Vanilla, Island Breeze, and a few others I can't remember. When MM and I were out in the sooty air, getting paint, I stumbled across this. It says, right on the package, that the scent can last "up to 12 months".
The hell you say. That's what I said. I wanted to test it out. MM looked at me like I was crazy. But we bought some Fresh Air. And they mixed it into our paint for me. I eagerly awaited the day of paint. We teased and talked about the fresh air paint. Finally, yesterday evening, after we'd spent a good portion of our day taping off everything in a lovely shade of blue, MM and I cracked open the "allure blue".
I have to tell you, I am shocked and amazed. Does it smell like fresh air? I maintain it does. MM however, insists that it smells like Vaseline Intensive Care Skin Lotion. What it does not smell like, is paint.
Even now, a good 12 hours after we applied the paint, I smell the fresh air. And not paint. So, if any of you are going to paint, I do actually recommend this crazy stuff. As far as how long the fresh scent will last? Will it be up to 12 months? We shall see...

and last. But not least. Here is my finished kitchen. Please don't judge me by the curtains. Those are coming down, and getting changed out, as soon as I possibly can do it. Also, I will be painting a few of the tiles that you can't see in this picture. They have ugly, beige flowers on them. Still trying to decide what color to paint them. I am leaning towards cobalt blue.

still toiling

had a good time yesterday visiting the parents and eating bbq. Learned a new domino game from some friends, and left for home before the fireworks even started. We were both asleep less than 5 minutes after we got home. Today we are finally doing the prep work to paint the living room and hallway/alcove. Our realtor is supposed to show up sometime this afternoon to give us a "gift" (it better involve alcohol) and copies (yet again) of all our fricken' paperwork. Then, I am deleting ANY evidence of her from my phone, my home, and my life! Seriously.
She wasn't horrid. But she IS annoying. Yet, she found us a house.
So I will be nice.
Kind of.
Onward and upward!

Hiya

Just a quick one. Finally online at the new to us house. Used my airport to connect (thanks Daryl!)
We've been working our hearts out. Turns out, no one came to help. Sis bailed last minute. The 2 guys we hired were excellent though and worked hard and efficiently to get us both moved out. I could not have thanked them enough.
So far, the only room that I have completely unpacked is the kitchen. And it looks wonderful. Pictures soon. Tomorrow, a much needed day off. ..

not for lack of blog fodder

But really for lack of time, and energy. Unless some miracle happens, I think/know that I am not up to finding a mieography, or writing out the story that is living in my head this week. MM and I breaking our asses to move, and as the only help we can seem to find is the help we have to pay, well, we are doing the bulk of it ourself. Middle sister is coming tomorrow, which will be some relief. But she can't lift anything. So I am having her do 'scut' work in the new house. Like lining the kitchen shelves with paper. It works.
Saturday is my parents 45th wedding anniversary. Every year, they have a big bbq at their house, and we watch the fireworks that can be seen from their balcony that they launch over the nearby lake. With the fire season already in full swing (800 fires in California right now) I personally think that this should be a NON FIREWORK year.
Anyhoo. MM and I are going to drag our sorry, beat up selves to the bbq, but leave well before the fireworks. I know we will need some time to recover from this week.
So, I will be back Monday. I hope.

Wordless Wednesday

Right Now

Right now we are socked in to a smoky nightmare. California is on fire. Massively. I can barely go outside, it is like the end of the world out there. Please, if it is in your nature, pray that not many (or no) homes are lost. No lives are lost. And that we get our keys. (still have not heard.).
But mostly, pray for rain.
We need it.

frustration at its highest level

It's like they are dangling the keys in front of our nose, and laughing.
It's like they know, in those last few hours, it is their last chance to screw with you.
This, my friends, is the closing of a house.

So MM takes an extra day off last week to sign the paperwork that they HAVE to have so that we can get the funding for the house, and then the keys, today. We go, we sign. We see the incredible hulk. And we wait...
and wait more
and today. It finally gets here. We have been waiting for this day. The DAY. The day of the keys. Even if it turned out to be later today. That was okay. We had a plan.
That is what screwed us up. We should have never had plans.

So instead of getting the keys, we got (eventually) phone calls. Papers that should have been signed that were "accidentally" left out. Problems getting employment verification, despite the fact that we have each provided them with W-2's for the last two years, paycheck stubs, social security cards and even some DNA (okay, not DNA but you get my point).
And through it all, my freaking realtor, who does not know how to retrieve messages off her new land line phone, OR her fricken new cell phone. Finally calls me and tells me its her job to keep me informed, yet, I should be calling her and telling her what the loan officer and title officer are telling me. YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME.
So, they SAY that we are going to get a "special close" tomorrow. (Well, today, now, because I am "pre-posting" again. In futile hope). And supposedly, our keys. Yet the realtor? Wants me to re arrange the rental truck to Wed. Thurs. instead of Tues/Wed.
We have to be OUT of this house by Friday.
You do the math.
Freaking people. I hate them all.
Except you, of course.
And MM.

and I shall call him

Mini MM.

same great website as below

madness, I say!

I don't know how much I am going to be posting this week, it is THE WEEK. The big week. We get house keys, and we kill ourselves to get MM out of his house by Friday, and hopefully, most of my stuff out of the "storage unit". Keep your fingers crossed for us.

I know you are reading this on Monday. But, I ain't gonna lie. Today is Friday. I am pre posting. Just because I can. And because today was goofy and I have to blog it!

So I went over to pack, and today was the day I really needed to be kind of done with the apartment. We have other fish to fry this weekend. Paint shopping, shopping for a few necessities, and, truthfully? Some time to relax and not stress. We are both kind of stressed.

As I was packing, and finding things. (found my great sunglasses that I thought I lost!) I realized, about 2 pm, that the box situation was dire. I had more books to pack, and other items, and I needed bigger boxes than the dinky ones I had. I have been collecting boxes at work now for 3 weeks. I had TONS of them. And I filled almost all of them. The surviving empties are just too small. Sighing, I called MM and whined a little about needing to actually *buy* boxes. Then I went to go get boxes.

I went to the Uhaul place in Podunk, where we will be retrieving a 17 foot truck of our own Tuesday morning. I walk in, and, I kid you not. 2 men sitting there, each one of them weighing in at what I would guess to be 500, A PIECE. And with them? A big, red Pit Bull. Helloooo.

I hesitate, because, frankly, I don't know who intimidated me more. The dog, or the men. I stupidly blurt out " do you sell boxes here" and one of the half ton masses moves his toothpick aside and points me in the direction of the wall to the left. Sure enough, huge pile of boxes. I peruse, and the dog comes to look with me. She sniffs my hand, but they call her back to where they were. I see the size I want. And look to see where they are in the massive piles of flat boxes leaning against the wall. They are in pre bundled sets, so, I end up with 15 of them. No, I didn't need 15 more boxes. But they buy back what you didn't use, and, frankly, I want to leave the store. I struggle, with my wimpy girl arms with my 15 boxes, up to the cash register, only to have the toothpick chewing Jabba man say "I could have helped you carry those."
"really? I think to myself. That would have been great. But I don't want to have to resuscitate your flabby self." But I keep silent. They do, after all, have a dog. After paying an EXHORBITANT amount of money for recycled cardboard, I start to head for the door. But Jabba man decides he will help. He carries my boxes to the Jeep. But I had to slide them in all the way. His arms couldn't do it.
I went back to the storage unit, and worked and toiled until MM was home, and met me for dinner. We tried a new place, in Nirvana City.
And the fun just never ended.
We had high hopes. It smelled good. It was Hula Friday, or something like that. Live music on the patio! The music was actually acceptable. We placed our drink orders, and, eventually our food orders. That was the last we saw of our waitress. I should mention she never even managed to bring us water. Someone eventually brought us food. We started with soup (MM) and salad (me). The salad was TINY. And the person who brought them promised us fresh bread that was supposedly "in the oven". Never got it. Then the entree's came. And they were "eh". We've had better. Podunk, and Nirvana City have lots of good eating places. This one, really isn't one of them. We finished our drinks fairly early, during the soup/salad debacle. We lined our glasses up for more. Hoping. I gave MM the rest of my iced tea, eventually. I'd ordered a cold beer to have with my meal. I got it cold in the bottle, but a warm glass. The serving person told me "don't pour it in the glass it will get warm." Seriously. Eventually, a young man came and cleared our dinner plates, and tried to clear off our glassware! "We wanted refills" I say. He went and refilled for us. Then we sat, for a half hour. Wondering if we still had a waitress. We had not seen anyone twice, except for this young lady who, I think was the hostess. Finally, we asked if we had a waitress. (We asked the hostess). She said she'd check, and then came back. Sure enough, our waitress had gone home! At that point we were more than irritated. The hostess assisted us in ordering dessert (a really good Banana's Foster Cheesecake.). Talking about the poor service we'd gotten, we decided we really should tell the manager. The same, unfortunate young man who'd tried to steal our glassware came by to clear the dessert plate. (we shared). We asked for the manager. He got wide eyed, and said he'd send her over. Moments later, some young blond thing comes by, and we tell her our tale of poor (no) service. And she says that she is "sorry". A few times. And tells us our waitress had been on overtime, so they sent her home. But she would "talk" with the one who had supposedly picked up our table. Yeah, and that would be?....
We told her we were not leaving a tip, but would tip the hostess, whom we saw more than anyone. She told us that was our right (duh), apologized again, then said she'd hope to see us again, soon (NOT!) and as she left, she said "we will give you the dessert for free". Yeah. Whatever. Free cheesecake does not make up for an evening of VERY POOR SERVICE. We paid our bill, wrote a comment on the receipt, tipped the hostess, and left. Swearing to never go back, and to tell our small community about the sucky service at THE TROLLEY IN NEVADA CITY, CALIFORNIA.
I still am not sure who the hell our waitress was.....
and we are still waiting for a drink refill.....

I shall call her Mini Me

You, too can do this, just go to this great site and have some fun!

Short Story Saturday

today's story is special. It was written by me in October of 1979, when I was in forth grade. My Mom saved it. I think it is the first short story I ever wrote. If I could scan this in to show you my 4th grade cursive, I would. But I will post this story just like I wrote it, spelling errors, and all....(the teacher gave us the introductory paragraph, I remember. The rest is all mine....)

Traci Being a balloon.


I started out flat, get blown up until I am very fat and then I begin to wait for the end. A balloon has a very short life, but it is exciting.
*Here is where my story starts*

Today I almost got popped and since a baby owns me, it started to scream when its father almost sat on me. Then she waddald over and threw me in the air over to her mother, who was sewing. I almost touched her needle but she caught me just in time and threw me to the father, who threw it to baby Linda. Linda's last name is Green. She caught me and took me to her younger sister. She tryed to put me in mothers tummy. I started to talk that night to her mother and father. They were so Surpriseed! They named me Traci. I had eyes, an nose and a mouth. Because they drew them.
The next morning was Christmas morning. I had no idea what Chrristmas was! Linda got a doll. The parents got me a balloon body. so I could walk. but then Linda got a cat who tried to pop me. but I ran from her and she chased me all over the house. In my room she bloced me against the wall/ I was skared and she popped me.
The End.

So there you go. My first story, spelling errors and all. I was skared. (lol). I find it interesting that the balloon person had a room, and knew how to run with the balloon body. Note also how I referred to baby Linda as "it" I also tried to say that the mom was pregnant, hence the "tryed to put me in mothers tummy". The handwriting on this is hilarious. I actually remember writing this story. I started it at school, was supposed to finish it at home, but didn't. Instead, I finished it on the benches on the playground right before it was due. I think that's why it has such a quick ending of death by cat claws.....

Friday Mieography

We are going across the pond for this one

Adeline Virginia Stephen was born in 1882, in London. Her parents had both been married previously, both their spouses having died, so she grew up in a family that contained the children of 3 marriages. They were very literate, and well connected, and she was educated by her parents in their Hyde Park home. In total, there were seven children in the household.
Her father's first wife had been the eldest daughter of William Thackeray, a famous author of that time, and her father wrote a biography of the man. He was well known for this, and their home was an environment that was filled with the influence of the Victorian literary society. Frequent visitors included George Eliot, Julia Margaret Cameron, and James Russel Lowell. Her mother came from a family of renowned beauties, who were models for Pre Raphaelite artists, and early photographers. The house also had an immense librar, where Virginia was taught classic and English literature
The family spent every summer in Gornwall, in St. Ives. Many of her memories of these summers made their way into her books. Her mother suddenly died when she was 13, and her older sister died 2 years later. The stress of this led to the first of what would become many nervous breakdowns. When her father died in 1904 she broke down so severely that she was briefly institutionalized.
Many scholars have now claimed that her breakdowns, and depressions were triggered by the sexual abuse that she and one of her sisters suffered at the hands of 2 of her half brothers. She was plagued during her life by severe mood swings, which greatly impacted her social functioning. However, her literary abilities remained intact. In this day and age, she would have been diagnosed as a bipolar patient.
Anyhow. Now that we've covered her mental health....
When her father passed away, she and her siblings sold the Hyde Park house, and purchased a home in Gordon Quare, Bloomsbury. She began to study at King's College in London, where she got to know many other people, including Leonard Woolf. She married him in 1912. They had a very close bond. They also collaborated professionally. In 1917, they founded the Hogarth Press, which published most of her work. Interestingly enough, the group of intellectual friends they had gathered about themselves ("The Bloomsbury Group") discouraged sexual exclusivity, so Virginia also had a long term relationship with Vita Sackville-West. She even wrote her a book that has been documented as "the longest and most charming love letter in literature". They remained close friends after their affair ended.
All in all, she wrote 8 novels, including Mrs. Dalloway, To the Light House, and The Years. She also wrote 3 short story collections, and did 3 "biographys", which were also novels, but written in the biography style about her chosen characters. She also wrote 13 non fiction books. Many of her diaries and her own autobiographical writings were also published.
After finishing her last novel, "Between the Acts", Virginia fell into a deep depression. The war, and the destruction of her London homes related to the bombings worsened her condition. She also had just published a biography that was not well liked. She became so depressed she was unable to work. In March, of 1941, after having a nervous breakdown, she drowned herself by weighing her pockets with stones, and walking into the River Ouse. Her body was not found until April. Her husband buried her cremated remains under a tree, in the garden of their Sussex home. In her last note to her husband, she said this:

"I feel certain that I am going mad again. I feel we can't go through another of these terrible times. And I shan't recover this time. I begin to hear voices, and I can't concentrate. So I am doing what seems the best thing to do. You have given me the greatest possible happiness."

It goes on to talk about how she cannot fight any longer, that she felt like she was spoiling his life, and that she cannot write properly. She tells him if anyone had been able to save her, it would have been him.

A tragic end for so prolific a writer....

Controversy in my household

It all started like this:


Me, MM and MG went to see Ironman. Sounds innocent enough, right?



But here's the thing. And I guess I am kind of outing myself here.
I don't like Robert Downey J. (RDJ). And I would not have cast him in this role.
I announced this, at the end of the movie, and was on the receiving end of twin looks of horror from MM and MG. Now, don't get me wrong. It was a pretty good movie. I just don't like RDJ. I think that he wasted so many years being a junkie, and abusing his loved ones and frittering away his talent. And when we give ex jumkies money, well. Most of them fall back into that world. Sounds cynical, I know. But there you have it.
According to MM, however, Tony Stark, aka Iron man, is a giant, womanizing alcoholic asshole. Making it the perfect role for, you guessed it, RDJ, At least, this is the argument he offers me when we discuss the movie. I can accept that, I guess. Especially because, when he asks me to come up with another actor who could have pulled off the role, all I could think of was Liam Neeson. I like Liam Neeson. But is he Tony Stark? Probably not. (I am really going to have to try and find someone better to answer that question with.)

BUT. BUT BUT BUT.
Yesterday, after signing away the next 30 years of our lives to our new to us home, (and we finished signing the paperwork in record time, thanks to are awesome title company lady Jill)
we went to see this:


I loved it. It was fantastic. I liked many things about it. I am not going to spoil the movie here, so it is safe to read this post until the end.
What I enjoyed, was the fact that they paid homage to the previous hulks, and they even used the haunting music that I remember from the TV series days. It totally worked. I also really liked the fact that they didn't make the hulk look like a green painted Lou Ferrigno. They styled the "monster" very well. They didn't try to make him look too believable, too human. They made him look as he should.



and of course. I liked this. Edward Norton. He played the mild mannered Bruce Banner perfectly. With a little bit of an edge. Not a push over, wimpy "oh poor me" Bruce Banner. He was wonderful.

So go see Hulk. I don't think you will be sorry.

Wordless Wednesday

my last 15 years

In a nutshell

I wasn't tagged by bubblewench but she suggested I do this, so, here goes. The last 15 years of my life. In 10 bullet points. Whoo hoo. This should be fun.

1. Got a job working in a 'Mini Mart' so I could afford to divorce the Italian, Mamma's boy Marine that didn't want to be married anymore.

2. Went on a few crummy dates, then gave up on men in general.

3. Put myself through Nursing School, working at same Mini Mart I got hired at to divorce the Marine.

4. Got a job at the hospital of my choice. Bounced around there for 3 years or so. Still given up on men.

5. Went online one day and found a job in Podunk, a place I'd always thought about living. Got the job and moved in less than a month.

6. Became an ICU nurse

7. Gave up my moratorium on men, but ended up dating the Village Idiot, followed closely behind by the Village Drunk, was considering giving them up again for my sanity

8. Went online again, but this time I found MM.

9. MG came back to live here in Podunk

10. We are in the death throes of purchasing a home together.

There you go. 15 years, in a very basic nutshell. Some of the good, fun detail-y stuff is obviously left out. Like the torture that was middle sisters wedding, my three nephews, my Dad's Cancer (well, that wasn't fun). But all that REALLY happened to other people, not me....

Why sometimes I shouldn't be taken nice places

Because when I fold back the napkin to get to the warm, crunchy bread, I accidentally laid it on top of the candle holder and burnt a hole in the napkin. Good thing MM was there to save the day....

brain fried

It finally happened
I broke my brain. At least, it feels that way.
What with things finalizing on the new house, my extreme summer cold, that is finally almost completely gone. (Still an occasional dry cough) packing, stressing, and a vacation that doesn't really qualify as a vacation (packing) it is no wonder I can't think of something to REALLY blog about today.
I am sure you don't want me to blog about the black cat hairball I just cleaned up. Really you don't.
Or the fact that MM thinks there is an animal conspiracy in the house, because they "know" we are moving.....
(I told him it isn't a conspiracy unless he steps in Poop).

These are the things bouncing through my brain right now. That, and the fact that I must get moving and go pack. This is getting old. I can't wait to move.

I will try to come up with something more fun and less whiny tomorrow. Meanwhile. Anyone want anything specific? Just leave your suggestions in the comments!

Father's Day

F- funny as hell
A articulate. When he wants to be
T twinkling eyes. Especially when he is pranking someone
H humility. He's got it. In spades.
E easy going. Not an uptight bone in his body
R rascal. He really is one.

The above is my father. It is no secret I am a "Daddy's Girl". I would not be the person I am today without my dad. Sure. My mom had some to do with it, too. But he and I? Still incredible friends. After all these years. He always has my back, and I always know it. He will always be on my side, even, after that terrible, fateful day when he will be no longer with me. The day I cannot bear to think about.

So happy Father's Day, to my Dad who does not even know I blog. (He is anti computer). I love you. Now answer the phone!

AND as a bonus, MM will be home today. We are having our extra special dinner, Captain Crunch with Crunchberries! He asked for it....

Short Story Saturday

Taylor/Erol woke up, slowly, forgetting where he was. It was still rather dark outside, and the scent of night jasmine floated through the air. Rolling over, he groped for his alarm clock. Eyes snapping open, he suddenly remembered all that had befallen him.
Sitting up, he studied his surroundings in the dark. He was in a chamber filled with the other Eunich's, He thought they were all asleep, but he could not be sure. He considered attempting an escape, but decided against it. "I need to learn my way around, first" he thought. Plus, there was a chance that if he were caught, and it was discovered he still had his "manhood", he was afraid of what would happen. Sighing, he got up off his simple pallet, and made his way to the bathing chamber. He had been told last night that he was to bathe, and bind himself each morning, before anyone else got up.
He quickly took care of his morning ablutions, and, wincing, bound himself the way he was shown. "I wonder if I will get used to the pain" he thought, walking gingerly towards the kitchens. He was to bring the Princess Nilufer her morning tray, and taste all of it within her eyesight, so she could ensure for herself that he did not die from it...
Nilufer rolled over, brushing her long black hair out of her face. She was bored, and had tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. Her various serving women pattered softly around the opulent room, trying not to wake her. Her bed was a raised cloud of softness, surrounded by curtains. Her persian cat, Salim, slept next to her, his whiskers twitching with dream. Wishing she was a cat to come and go as she pleased, she watched the black feline with envy. Sensing eyes upon him, Salim opened one, golden eye and glared at her. Laughing softly she scratched his chin, then pulled the curtains aside to indicate that she was awake.
Immediately her women came forward with her robe, and slippers Shrugging them on, she lithely stalked to the table, Salim at her heels. Sitting down, she rung the bell, indicating she would like to break her fast. At the ring, her new taster, Erol came in bearing a tray of fruit sorbet, figs, eggs, and bread. Her usual breakfast. Silently, she watched as he tasted them all. Then she waited, ten minutes. As he showed no signs of illness, or death, she proceeded with her meal. When she finished, she daintily wiped her face and mouth, and gestured for the tray to be taken away. Erol jumped to do it, but she motioned him down with one hand. "Not you. I would like you to remain, to entertain me" she announced. Shocked, he did as he was bid. "Come with me, I must bathe" she said, eyes twinkling.
"What is she trying to do, get me killed?" he thought erratically. She knew that he was not altered, yet, she was about to make him watch her bathe. Surely she was aware that she was a most beautiful woman. Trying to keep his reaction to a minimum, he followed her.
"He is a eunich, you may all stay behind" she said, to her maidens. They nodded their head, and did as she bid.
In the bathing area, Nilufer matter of factly stripped down to nothing, and entered the warm bath. When the bath mistress came to attend her, she turned to Taylor/Erol, and, in perfect English asked him
"So, from what did year did you step back from?"
Taylor felt all the blood rush out of his face at her words.
"What do you mean?" he stammered, heart fluttering.
" I came back here in 1967, I am from Woonsocket, Rhode Island, originally" she announced, as if it were no big deal.
"Rhode Island?" he parroted, shocked.
Laughing, she flicked her wet hair behind her ear, and tilted her head, giving the short bath mistress a better opportunity to wash it.
"Yes, Rhode Island. But no one hear remembers when I came, exactly. I was a young girl, traveling with my parents. I liked it well enough here that I was permitted to stay. Now, I am not so sure that that was the best decision. But it has been made, and, here I am." She laughed, bitterly. "I wonder what my life would have been like, otherwise" she whispered, softly. Then, shrugging her shoulders, she turned her aquamarine eyes on him.
"So tell me. Tell me what I missed. Tell me what modern day life is like. I want to know it all. And tell me, do you think you will stay in my time, or will you want to return to what you left?"
"Well if my choice is dying of poison or returning to what I know, why, then, I will choose to return" answered Taylor, still shocked at what was revealed to him.
"Makes sense" she answered. Then, she began to ask him questions, and talk with him about what he'd left behind. They filled the morning this way, and before he knew it, it was time to taste her lunch meal. He did so, and they continued to talk, all through dinner. Nilufer had a bright mind, he found, and she was very observant. She was keenly interested in where he came from, and what the future held for the Ottoman Empire. Being as he was a history major, he was well versed in the history. He was careful what he told her, though, because he did not want to alter the future dramatically. He was not quite sure how important, or not important of a 'princess' Nilufer was.
Weeks went by in this pattern, he tasting her food with each meal, then, filling he in on the many events that had happened since she had "disappeared". No detail was too small for her, she wanted to know them all. As the weeks went by, Taylor slowly became Erol, and Erol slowly fell in love with the Princess Nilufer. He knew, that if given the choice, he would take his chances, and remain by her side, forever, or until he was poisoned, which ever came first.
Nilufer loved Erol as well, and each time he tasted her food, she was sick with nervousness. " I should have never revealed myself, my heart, my secret" she thought to herself. "It would have been easier had I not gotten to know him, to love him." Anxiously, she would watch him for the signs of sickness, and poisoning that had affected the other taster's who had died. Weeks went by, then months, and still, he remained alive. Negotiations were finalized for her marriage to the all important Prince Isik, she was to become his 6th, and final wife.
The morning of the ceremony, Erol went to her chambers. He had not slept all night in his anguish. He did not want her to marry another. But he had found no way of escape. Dying a little inside, he brought her his meal. And he tasted it. Distracted, she did not wait her full ten minutes, she began to eat. Within minutes, she knew she was dying. Yet she kept eating. Looking at him, she also saw the death in his eyes. Taking his hand, she asked "Where was it?"
"I put it in the fruit juice" was all he could answer before his heart stopped. Downing the juice, within minutes, she collapsed over him, smile on her face....

Friday Mieography

This one is short, but sweet.
Molly Pitcher. Ever heard of her? Me neither. (Or, good for you!)
Many think that Molly was folklore, a story. Many think she is a composite of many real women. I will leave you to decide what you want to, but tell you what I learned.

Sources generally identify "Molly Pitcher" as Mary Ludwig Hays McCauley. She was born to a German family in Pennsylvania, in approx. 1754.
In 1778, she went with her husband, William Hays, who was an artilleryman in the Pennsylvania artillery unit, to the Battle of Monmouth, in what is now New Jersey. William fell, wounded. So she took his post, at his cannon. After the battle, General George Washington issued her a warrant as a non-commissioned officer, and she was known after that as "Sergeant Molly". Also, it is storied that what she did was carry water to the men on the battlefield during the revolutionary war. The water was not for drinking, but for swabbing the cannons. Thus, the name "Molly Pitcher."
Mary remarried, but her second husband died young, as well. After that, she became a nurse, and a housekeeper. In 1822, the state of Pennsylvania awarded her an annual pension of $40.00 for her heroism during the Revolutionary War. She died in 1832 in Carlisle, Pa.
In 1928, Molly Pitcher was a U.S. Postage Stamp. She was also further honored during WW II, with the U.S.S. Molly Pitcher. Unfortunately, the ship was launched, AND torpedoed, in 1943.
There is also a hotel in New Jersey, near the Monmouth battle sight called the "Molly Pitcher Inn". And in Pa, at the Pa-Maryland state line, there is a stretch known as "Molly Pitcher Highway"

One of the most upsetting times of my life

Fire season is starting here in the US, hot summer, dry winds dry weeds and grasses. We have already had a few devastating fires here in Northern California.
. My Mom and Dad have lived in the same home since 1979. To say we are attached to that house, and its contents, are an understatement. Especially me, probably, because I really did spend every formative year there. I played countless hours of flute in the bedrooms. I got ready for proms. I studied. I laughed, I cried, I kicked a hole in the bedroom door......
I came back to it after my marriage split and I needed refuge. Where once again I laughed, cried, and studied for nursing school.
My parents raised their children there. They raised a dog and half dozen cats, and a few birds, there. They've remodeled. Added on decks. Outbuildings.
My Dad, diligently, constantly hacked at the weeds and scrub growth, killing rattlesnakes and nearly himself sometimes, every year, to ensure there was a proper fire break around the house.
But yet, a few years ago, they almost lost it all.
Some arse wipe without a brain in his head noticed his engine getting hot, and pulled off the road, INTO THE WEEDS. Instead of staying on pavement, or turning onto a smaller street, he pulled, off into the weeds, and started a fire that burned down nearly half the county.
Including my Mom and Dad's house.
At one point, they showed a section, a very recognized section, of my Mom and Dad's property, burning. What I recognized was the big, giant, grandfatherly pine, right next to the house. Up in flames. Then they showed a burning house. And I went hysterical.
My Mom and Dad were actually watching, for awhile, from a safe place a few miles away. They live on top of a hill, and were looking up. Praying the house would not burn. Then the sun went down, and they could not see anymore. So they went to a hotel room. Crying.
We found out later, that luck saved the house, really, and the grace of God. There was a news crew actually on the ground over there, and a fire crew nearby. The house, or parts of it, did catch on fire. The back decking they had added on. But the crew's that were there were quick, and pried burning boards out of the decking and got rid of them. My Dad's woodshed, with all his firewood for the winter (how ironic) burnt down. They used some of his lumber that he makes things out of as "stepping stones" across the hot ash. They called in helicopters to drop water right on the house. Numerous times. And they saved the house. The news crew took a picture of these men, cheering and relaxing on my Mom and Dad's lawn. ( My pictures are all packed right now, or I would post it). We got a copy of the picture this last year. We would love to have all those men over for a good bbq, but we don't know who they are!
The aftermath was devastating. Middle sister and I drove down the next day, as soon as we could get in. Everything in the house was covered with ash. The water wasn't useable for close to 3 weeks. The land around them was grey, burnt, destroyed. It looked like mars. The old, beautiful pine? Ruined. What was left of it had to be chopped down. But they still had a house. Our home.
So I write this in the hopes that if you have a hot engine, you won't pull into the weeds. In the hopes that if you have a house, you will maintain the property properly, with good fire breaks. (I know MM and I will). I hope none of you, or us, have to go through what my parents did. Or what the over 20 other families who actually LOST their homes.
Fires are serious things. Lets do what we can to prevent them. Including, dropping money in the fireman's boots when you see them. Or thanking them for doing their difficult job.

Wordless Wednesday

In which I whine. Just a little

So I know now why I felt like I needed a nap at work last night, when I don't, usually.
I'm sick.
Or I am getting sick.
I always seem to be the one that gets a summer cold. Not every summer, but when I am going to have a cold, it is almost always during the summer.
I am at that very early stage of just not feeling great. The stage where I am delusional enough to hope it is just my allergies, but knowing in my heart it isn't. That scratchy throat, mild headach-y stage. That lethargic "I don't wanna" stage. I hate this stage.
At least in the full blown "I feel like crap" stage, you can admit defeat, stay home, and moan on the couch under your blanket of soggy kleenex's. Instead of doing that, I am working. And I will be tomorrow night, too. And after that, glorious vacation. 3 weeks of it. (thats why I am getting sick.suuuucks).

In good, non whining news, the loan officer, and realtor called MM and myself today. It seems we were (fingers remaining crossed KNOCK on wood) blessed by the house fairy. Our loan was a "clean approval" meaning-
all our ducks were in a row, there were no red flags, the house is worth what we are paying for it, and they don't need our first born children (lucky MG)
and, the house should be ours by June 23. We are going Sunday for a final walk through, to sign the septic repair report (they fixed the whole thing, tree roots were the culprit). After that, the last hurdle. Mountains of paperwork to sign, more money to fork over, and then we are in. I am still cautioning myself to not get too excited until I have a set of keys in my hand, and I can delete the realtors name out of my cell phone.Then, look out.

need.. to.... sleep....

I am sitting here, heavy lidded. I did something I rarely, if ever do, on my shift.
I took a nap on my lunch break.
We get generous lunches, usually. 1 hour. Tonight, due to unforseen circumstances, (ie really sick patients requiring MUCH nursing time)we only each took 45 minutes.
and though I slept really good yesterday
I am tired.
So I nodded off.
then jerked awake
then nodded off
then jerked awake
you get my drift.
And now I feel more tired than when I went on my break
thereby, defeating myself totally
which is why I don't ever nap at work.

Short Story Saturday

Taylor sighed as he approached the door to his hotel room, silently counting how much money he had left. He'd taken a years sabbatical from college, where he was a history major, to drive around, freely exploring the United States. He'd saved every red cent he'd made working for Home Depot for 3 years to purchase his purple VW, and go on this trip. He'd seen many things in the last 11.5 months. Fall in New England, the pizza place in Mystic, Connecticut where the famous movie had been made, the Biggest Ball of Twine in Minnesota, the Alamo, The Corn Palace, Mount Rushmore and the Black Hills, just to name a few. He had 2 weeks left of his wandering dream, and after that, it was back to the responsibilities that supposedly went with being an adult. Finish college, work, eventually marry and have children. His mother was practically foaming at the mouth for him to give her grandchildren. As he was her only child, it was his responsibility to do so. She reminded him of it nearly every time they spoke.
Tiredly, he rubbed his eyes, and studied the door. Amused, he ran his hand over the burnt symbol on the front. It appeared to be a Crescent Moon. I wonder who did that? He thought to himself, momentarily forgetting his troubles. Shouldering the backpack that held all his worldly possessions, Taylor fit the key into the lock, and swung the door open.
He smelled the smell of incense immediately, almost assaultive in its nature. Patchouli, if he was not mistaken. Taking a step in, he tried to see past the darkness. He felt eyes on him, and it unnerved him a great deal. Deciding he didn't like the feel of the room, he tried to take a step back, to leave, but found he could not. More shocking, was the fact that he was now all the way in the room. The door closed behind him as the panic began to hit. As soon as the door clicked, the darkness of the room faded, and he found himself standing in the middle of what could only be described as a very busy market place. Staring about, in shock, he looked down, at his own feet, and discovered they were in manacles, as were his wrists, and he felt one around his neck, as well. The one around his neck had a rope attached, and the rope was tied around a tall pole. People were milling about him, poking at him, staring at him.
"I must be dreaming" he thought wildly. Pinching at himself, he gasped, because he found himself wearing clothing he had no recollection of having put on, let alone owned. The pants, if you could call them that, were white, and billowy, and a baggy shirt in faded blue was the only other thing he had on. His feet were bare.
"Where am I?" he asked the portly woman who was poking at his ribs, with a frown on her face. At least, he thought she was frowning, for she had a veil over her mouth and nose.
"Constantinople" she answered shortly.
"Istanbul?" he echoed after her, as she walked away
"No, Constantinople" said an oily voice to his left. Turning, he saw a short, heavy set, olive complected man with a short mustache, and very pointed beard. The man approached and instructed him to open his mouth, and in his shock, he did. After looking at his teeth, the short man walked around him, three times, poking and prodding everything. Including his buttocks and genitals, causing Taylor to turn a bright shade of red.
"You will do" he said, simply, and turned away to talk with another man who was hovering nearby. Before long, Taylor found the rope that had tied him to the pole handed over to the short, dark man, who jerked him along, in an effort to get him moving. Stumbling, he followed, asking "who are you, where are we going?"
"You may simply call me Ali" the man answered. "We are going to the Rose Palace. You are to be my mistress' newest Eunich".
"Eunich?" answered Taylor, dumbfounded. "But I still have my..."
"Not for long" answered Ali, grinning.
Taylor fainted.
*********************
Nilufer sat as one of her many servants brushed her long, jet black hair. She was bored, bored beyond belief, and she had been for at least six months. Her father, Cemal had sent her to the Rose Palace, seemingly to protect her, but truthfully, she was here because he was trying to arrange marriage for her to Prince Isik, the son of their current ruler.
She was a beautiful woman, with long, black hair and topaz eyes. Many men had asked for her in marriage, but still, her father had resisted. He was not willing to give his prize daughter to just anyone.
Prince Isik had five other wives. Five other, conniving wives, whom had already tried to kill Nilufer twice before she came to live at the Rose Palace.
Now her father controlled every aspect of her life, what she ate, whom she saw. Her taster had died, from a poisoned fig just this morning, and her servant, Ali, was out in the market, to get another. A brisk knock sounded on her door, and, Ali himself entered, followed by 2 of her other slaves, Ahmet and Adil. Between them, they carried a very pale, red headed man, whose eyelids were fluttering.
"Put him down" she instructed, and came closer to look. "Where does he come from?" she asked Ali.
"I do not know exactly, but I would think one of the English speaking countries" he answered. Taylor's eyelids began to flicker, and she noted he had sea green eyes.
"He is to be my taster?" she asked
"Yes, as soon as I have his parts removed" answered Ali.
"Do not bother" she answered. "He will die soon enough thanks to those five scheming bitches that want to kill me. It would take him weeks to recover, and until that happened, YOU would be tasting my food. Simply bind them between his legs, and tell my father he was already fixed"
"Are you sure that is wise?" answered Ali.
"Just do as I say" she said, scowling at Ali.
"Yes, Princess".
"Now get him out of here, and cleaned up. I do not care what his name is, simply have him answer to Erol, as all the other tasters have."
"Yes Princess" answered Ali again, and motioned for the quiet, other men to once again, shoulder their burden. The four men bowed, (Taylor being pushed into it) and left the room.
A short time later, Taylor, now Erol, found himself in a deep, hot bath. Ali tried to take the srub brush to him, but he was now beginning to recover his faculties. He took the scrub brush to himself.
"Where, exactly, am I, and what year is it?" he asked Ali. "And do you understand me?"
"Yes, I understand you, though your Turkish is a bit funny sounding" answered Ali. (I'm speaking Turkish?" thought Taylor/Erol). As far as to where exactly you are, well. You are in Constantinople, at the Rose Palace. The year is 1414. Were you hit on the head, or something?"
"I don't recall" answered Taylor/Erol. He knew he could not tell Ali the truth, for it was unbelievable, even to him. When he was done cleaning up, Ali gave him a fresh set of clothing, and beckoned for him to follow him. "My mistress does not want you altered" said Ali, frowning. "So, I will show you how to hide your genitals. But I will warn you, also. Should her father discover that you are unaltered, you will have them cut off, stuffed in your mouth, and then you will be tossed into the Bosphorus to die."
"I am willing to take that chance" said Taylor/Erol. He meant to escape from whatever place this was, whatever this alternate reality was. But he had to figure out where he would go, first. He spent the first day adjusting to his new life. It was very uncomfortable to have his genitals bound and hidden, but the alternative was unacceptable. Ali showed him what his duties entailed, and, truthfully, it did not bother him so much. The fact that 3 other "Erol's" had died before him from poisoning did, though. He tried desperately hard not to think about that. The woman he was tasting for, Princess Nilufer, was beautiful, but he found her cold, and stand offish. "She could at least thank me" he thought, after he tasted her evening meal for her.
Late into the evening, Ali showed him where he could sleep. "Tomorrow, Erol, you will have to perform all your tasks without my assistance. I must be elsewhere in the palace. Can you do it?"
"Yes" he answered tiredly, and fell to his pallet, exhausted, and wondering, when he woke up in the morning, would he be home?
* sorry everyone, looks like yet another 2 part story....
these time travel inn ones sure do like to go on and on and on...

Friday Mieography

This weeks Mieography is someone near and dear to my heart.
She's a young one, but she's already done a lot of things.
She started her life in 1994 in Palo Alto, California, at the Lucille Packards Children's hospital Born to two young parents, she was 4 months premature, with an enlarged heart, that had a hole between the ventricles, and too much blood in her system She was also extremely jaundiced. You could say at a young age she showed her tenacity, and will to live. She left the NICU for home after a mere 3 weeks, returning once a week for checkups, to ensure the hole in her heart was closing. It did.. At a young age, her parents divorced, and she eventually found a permanent home with her father. She has lived in multiple states, Colorado, California, Oregon, Arizona....
While she lived in Oregon, she developed a love of animals, as well. Dogs, goats, llama's, she helped provide care to them all. She also especially loves horses, though she has not had one of her own, yet.
She is a good student,who has made the honor roll for her entire 8th grade year, despite moving 3 quarters into the year. She has many friends who frequently poke her to keep her in line, and she pokes right back! She also manages to keep in touch with all the friends she has left behind in various other states.
Shes a very pretty girl, who will, this evening, be stuck in a skirt, with open toed shoes, and black painted toenails with her new open toed sandals, so that she can walk down and graduate from 8th grade. I do believe her father may have a heart attack when he sees how pretty she looks in her graduation garb. Good thing I will be here to resuscitate him. Her father, whom she has lived with for most of her young life, (with very frequent, long visits with her Mom) has not managed yet to completely warp her with his sense of humor (yet.). He claims she is the one warping him. I beg to differ....
I am, of course, talking about Mustang Girl.
She graduates from 8th grade this evening, and I am so proud and happy for her. She's had a tough year, but still hung in there, and has done extremely well. She has a very bright future ahead of her, and I know that someday, when I am old and doddering, and still blogging, I will re-write her 'mieography' and it will take me 10 hours to list all the rest of the stuff she has done.....
so, Go Mustang Girl! I cannot wait to see you all dressed up tonight, getting your diploma. I promise we won't be too embarrassing to you.....

go look at these links!

I have always known that teachers are pretty important people.
I have always felt like they don't make the earnings they should.
I have an Aunt who is a teacher. A great teacher. A teacher I would have loved to have.

The last few months, having experiences now with MG being in school up here, and hearing and seeing some of the information she comes home with has just made me value a good teacher MORE. Because, sadly enough, she has so FEW of them at the moment.

The other day, MM sent me a link. This link. He'd found him on youtube. I started reading, and listening to his poetry. He does "slam" poetry, but he does it WELL. And his poems are about the importance of teaching, and learning. Learning, both students, and teachers, alike. MM and I both spent a good hour, watching his youtube stuff, marveling at what a charismatic speaker he is, enjoying what he had to say. And eventually, wishing he was one of MG's teachers.

So go on over, and give Mr. Mali a listen. Tell me what you think. You can find the youtube stuff under Poem Videos. And, he also has a blog in there, too...I liked him enough to add him to my Tlish.

And, I might just add here. If you are NOT USING Treasurelicious yet. Why not? You totally should be. Totally. If I could think of a cool way to add Tlish to my own Tlish. I would. It's that much fun. Now get on it...

Wordless Wednesday

because this was fun the first time I did it

Once again, I am looking at the silly question/answer pages at Yahoo. If you see one you like, answer it... It makes me laugh, the things people ask the internet...

1. What the Hell?
2. Can't remember the name of this cartoon. Drunk horse (dog)trying to light his cigar burns bar down?
3.What Tie should I wear with my olive green suit?
4.Is there a weight limit on an average mountain bike?
5.Name 2 words you can't handle?
6.Why can't children know the real names of their genetalia?
7.Classy peices? (sic)
8.Why do farts smell bad?
9.When a Yorkie is pregnant?
10.Which car is best for a vacation?
11.Can Acetone Peroxide, or Dicycloacetone Peroxide be made with HCL, instead of the standard sulfuric acid?
12.Am I an unconvicted criminal I wonder?
13. Canker Sore?
14. Where can I watch romantic princess?
15.Can I break my water on my own?
16.Do you remove water from Ramen noodles and eat like spahetti, or leave it and eat like soup?
17.Thoughts of killing the people you love?
18.Frustrated!!?
19. Could something be stunting my breast?
20. We know the speed of light, so what is the speed of dark?
21.What's the point of life?
22.I need help.... I need medication.... any good ideas?
23. How much does it cost for a divorce in Wisconsin?
24. My wives are angry with me because I won't let them marry and additional husband?
25.Puzzled could it be?

okay, plenty of fodder there. NO I did not make any of these up myself....
later on I will answer one in my comments. Have fun!

Hi!

So MM is, himself, the creator of a good story if you are looking for something worthwhile to read. Go on over to Nuggets of Wisdom. Yeah, over there. To your right, in my sidebar....

Why I hate spaghetti and how I became a nurse

because inquiring minds want to know...

When I was a kid growing up, there were few things my Dad cooked. Pancakes were one of them,and to this day I swear he makes the best pancakes ever.
Sadly, spaghetti was another.
He does not have the same gift with the spaghetti. Not even freaking close.
His idea of spaghetti made me sick. Every time. It was hamburger, fried with onions, topped in a stewed tomato sauce that had no spices or anything else to it. Everyone else liked it fine. But I just COULD NOT stomach it.
I would sit at the dinner table, for hours, while it got cold, trying to find a way not to have to eat it. But we could not leave the table until we ate. And for some reason my parents really dug in on spaghetti night. Usually I would go to bed hungry and in trouble. Or sick, because they forced me to eat a few cold bites of it.
As I grew older, and more capable of making my own dinner, I avoided Dad's spaghetti easier. But just the sight of the stewed tomatoes, or the smell of it could (and still can) make me gag. Many people have tried to feed me good spaghetti since then, including my very very Italian now ex mother in law, who made her famous spaghetti that takes 24 hours to make. I simply can't do it. It makes me gag and retch. So I am pavlov's dog when it comes to spaghetti. Thanks Dad.
As far as nursing. Well.
I originally wanted to be a teacher. But being a newly divorced single woman who needed to be able to support herself on her own wages disabused me of that idea. Both my sisters are nurses, and, I looked at what they did, and with some not so subtle nudges from my mother, I decided to try it. To see if I liked it, and it liked me. To my surprise, it did, and I do. And I do plenty of teaching, as a nurse. I knew I would not stay in the Navy, but it paid for college, and I got to travel extensively, which was something I really wanted to do.
So, there, in a nutshell, are 2 very random facts about me.

toonlet amusement