rude!

Why do people have to be so rude at the gas pumps? Its already a bitter pill to swallow that my car insists on being fed the uber expensive gasoline. Must they add insult to injury by being pigs at the pumps? Especially those special few who drive big truck-ish like vehicles, for example, a popular tree trimming type service truck? With an unpronouncable name? They park in the worst positions imaginable at the pumps. I think its a contest to them to count how many people they can prevent from getting to the other pump. And bonus points are given if the one trying to squeak in bangs their car against the brightly hued cement surrounding the pump. Who the hell named those things 'islands', anyhow. Doesn't look like any island I want to go hang out on. Beside's, it would be no fun watching the jackasses in the giant trucks monopolize all the choice real estate, anyhow. Boo, hiss. Can you tell I've been up all night?

Because its Sunday

This week, the Head Gardener is to be decided upon. Celtic Rose's husband has a gift with all things green, but she has already claimed him. Since she's had him for the last 20 some odd years, I suppose I have to capitulate, and choose another.
Now, I am thinking my choice is going to surprise some of you. Hell, it kind of surprised me. But, I chose this man for the creativity he would give to my garden. Also, I think he would be just well, fun to have around. This choice isn't for looks, its for the energy he would put into things. So, my Head Gardener? Flea, from the Red Hot Chili Peppers.

parking lot, revisited

my hometown, Main Street, inundated.


its almost too pretty, isn't it?


the long, sweet lines, and fins of this one. . sigh


Everyone loves a good Challenger. . .


This was one of my favorite cars!


Ford Anglia? Or Stormtrooper? You tell me. . .


1926 Ford

They paved paradise, and put in a parking lot

But its just for today, and I'm not complaining! My tiny little town has gone crazy. Car crazy. Every year, there is a huge car show, with somewhere around 700 classic cars parked everywhere. Everywhere you turn, a beautiful car, and usually at least four men drooling on it. For the last seven years, since I moved up here, I have never made it to this car show, I'm always out of town for one reason or another. This year, I happen to be home, so I got up early, and hit the car show. I know, girls aren't supposed to like muscle cars, but as long as I don't have to build it, or work on it, this one does. I can appreciate whats under the hood, and there were a few cars there that I would have liked to have driven away in. I only lasted two hours before my vision started blurring, but I saw, and took pictures of some awesome looking cars. Ran into a few people I know, talked with a few I didn't, then high tailed it back home, where I am guzzling iced tea. The weather decided to play nice today, but it is a tad warm.

Psychic's and Ferrets, what more could you want?

I hate to keep picking on BW's neck of the woods, but lately, things are happening in the Philly area. I read an article in the news today that there has been a law on the books for thirty years that bans Fortune Telling in Philadelphia. No Psychic's, No Tarot cards, nothing. Apparently, this law was just re discovered, and so, Philly's finest are running around town, shutting down all the places in town that offer such services.
I have a few questions. Shouldn't any psychic worth their salt have "seen" this coming? Who made the thrilling discovery that this law passed 30 years ago, and why is it so important to uphold it now? Did the police commissioner get a bad reading, or something? Are the psychic's of Philly going to unite, and curse the baseball team? (Uh, wait, that might have already happened. . .).
I have never personally sat down for a psychic reading of any sort, and I really don't plan on it. A foreign exchange student from Italy "read" my palm, once, and told me I was going to die in a car crash before the age of 30, unless I only drove in a blue and yellow car. Oh, and that I would never find love. I am 37 and I drive my red SUV with glee, and I have found love. (It went away, but it was love. Sigh.)I think she was angry because the Belgian foreign exchange student was flirting with me. But I digress. Psychic's, love them, hate them, or indifferent? And, now what are the unemployed Psychic's of Philly supposed to do with themselves? So, BW, next time your out driving around, if you pass any homeless psychic's that are holding signs that say "will read Tarot for food", let me know will ya?
Oh, and I can pick on California, too. Did you fine people know it's illegal to own a ferret in this state? Celtic Rose and I want to start a "legalize Ferret's" campaign. You can own a snake, or a spider, hell, you can even go leap frog's in a competition, but one little ferret will land you in jail. Unfair!

Mixed bag

Just to clear something up.
Its not just the name of the Philadelphia stadium that I don't like, its most of them. And the reason they all annoy me is because some giant corporation has taken them over, and tacked their name right onto the stadium! I mean, come on. What was wrong with "Candlestick Park". It has (had) carried that name for ages, and now, you want us to call it what? I Refuse. So, its not just Philly. And, even the games carry logo's now. "Tostito's Fiesta Bowl". Sounds like a Taco Hell menu item. I am sure that some sports junky somewhere went off in his blog in more detail about it, and so I will stop at this. Now for my regularly unsponsered blog.

******

The walls in my house move. I swear they do. Just like the rocks moved on my Grandfather at Lake Almanor. Just ask my toes. I swear I should wear steel toed boots for life. (Yes I walked into the corner of a wall, are you happy? It hurt like a SOB). I stayed awake many hours yesterday, on purpose. Usually, on my "friday", I take a short nap when I get home, and make myself wake up and function for awhile, so that I can sleep during my nights off like normal people. Yesterday, I got an extremly short nap, because I needed a haircut desperately, and my stylest only had a morning appointment availiable, for a long time. So blearily I went to the beauty salon. Has anyone else noticed that when your tired, sound magnifies by at least ten thousand? Especially gossipy women in a salon. I swear the only peace I got in there was at the end, when she was blow drying my now, much shorter hair. During the haze that was my haircut, the window washer man was washing their windows, and my mind started wandering into the strange zone. He must see into a lot windows, this man, and by the void look on his face as he did the windows, I would hazard a guess that he really doesn't "see" into the windows,anymore. Is he just burned out? Or does he think he's "seen" it all in people's windows? What would it take to surprise him, or make him laugh, or even notice? He is the true definition of being on the outside, and looking in, but when he comes in to clean the inside, is he on the inside, looking out? I told you it was strange. Then the peaceful buzz of the hair dryer turned off and I got forced back into the bright land of chirping, happy women. It was almost painful. The only thing that saved it was that I did get a good haircut out of the deal.

I almost forgot. . . its wordless Wednesday! Duh

A Knight to combat Celtic Rose's Dragon