One of the habits, I guess you would say, of living in a small town is that from the time you are a wee child you are genetically programmed to pick up the local newspaper in order to read several items religiously: The arrests and the obituaries. You just never know when the little kid you used to babysit will get arrested for dealing cocaine (this actually happened to me!) or your former classmate oh, say, is attacked and eaten by a grizzly bear (also actually happened to me...see The Grizzly Man movie...but that's another post entirely). Anyway, a religious reader of local interest items, (ahem!) I glanced at the obituaries this morning and found such a precious little gem of an obit:
Evelyn Louise Storey
EVELYN LOUISE STOREY "Hoochie Mama" Merrillville, Indiana Age 87 passed away in her granddaughter's arms with her grandson and their spouses at her bedside, February 20, 2006 at Colonial Nursing and Rehab.
Hoochie Mama??? I LOVE it! The obituary went on to say,
On June 30, 1935 she married Alvin "Did" Homer Storey, a marriage that lasted 60 years and produced three children.
I told "Did" (aka H) he may want to take note...THIS is how I want to be remembered:
She enjoyed plastic cross-stitch, games (cards, dice, cribbage), word-search or crosswords, fishing, traveling and was known to be "The Master Teller of Dirty Jokes." She delighted in performing in the annual talent show put on by the senior residents of her Ahepa Phase # 3 Apartment complex, where she resided for 8 years.
"Did" was not impressed that I inquired about tickets for the annual talent show at the Ahepa Phase #3 Apartment complex, nor did he appreciate my asking to be called Hoochie Mama from this point on. "Did" did, however, enjoy the dirty joke I told as we ate our oatmeal.
Monday, February 27, 2006
Saturday, February 25, 2006
A sign this day just might be a challenge...
I was tired last night. Really tired. FallAsleepOnTheCouch Tired. Luckily, it's the weekend and better yet a weekend without a time schedule. Ahhh, the best laid plans...
This morning at 5:45 the poodles were alive and kicking and raring to go outside. I tried to ignore them but really, how does one ignore the *big chase* that involves Missy tearing across my body in a blur of white fur followed by Mr. P bearing his teeth and growling like he is going to rip her apart. No more sleep for this cowgirl. Miraculously, H was sound asleep. No, he is just better at faking sleep than I. Anyway, I trudged out of bed, down the stairs, and out the door to let them out.
Another big chase around the yard and Missy stops to take a poo while Mr. P PEES on her.
Yep, PEES RIGHT ON HER.
Argh.
This morning at 5:45 the poodles were alive and kicking and raring to go outside. I tried to ignore them but really, how does one ignore the *big chase* that involves Missy tearing across my body in a blur of white fur followed by Mr. P bearing his teeth and growling like he is going to rip her apart. No more sleep for this cowgirl. Miraculously, H was sound asleep. No, he is just better at faking sleep than I. Anyway, I trudged out of bed, down the stairs, and out the door to let them out.
Another big chase around the yard and Missy stops to take a poo while Mr. P PEES on her.
Yep, PEES RIGHT ON HER.
Argh.
Friday, February 24, 2006
Walktrotcanter: Defined
| walktrotcanter -- [noun]: A person who has the ability to be invisible 'How" will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com |
Saturday, February 18, 2006
Tundra outside my kitchen window...
Tundra
Originally uploaded by WalkTrotCanter.
Why I am not going outside today:
The combination of cold early morning temperatures and northwest winds
of 15 to 20 mph... will produce dangerous wind chills ranging from
20 below to 30 below this morning. Wind chills will rise above
dangerous thresholds by late this morning as winds diminish and
daytime warming occurs.
Daytime warming = 9 degrees!
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
Coming This Summer: Walktrotcantering on Brokeback Mountain!
Yeah, so Hot Babe gets to go to a sunny island. Whateveah...
My friend asked if I would like to go to California this summer. She has a sister out there who she visits every year. From what I understand, the sister has a nice piece of property nestled in a valley very close to the mountains. The sister also has several horses so we will be riding and riding and maybe riding some more on this trip. My friend said she wants me to go because, selfishly, she wants a horseback riding buddy. I told her no problem...she can use me all she wants for that.
I have known this friend for several years and have often heard about her sister. Apparently, Sister has not had very good luck with men. She was in a very abusive relationship when she lived here in the Midwest so she went to California to get away from all of that. Once in CA she met and married a guy and had 2 kids. They were divorced about 2 years ago because the guy was fooling around behind her back. She bought her place and moved away from him. When my friend asked me to go with her in July, she was a bit nervous. She asked me out to lunch and hemmed and hawed a bit before I finally said what's the deal. It turns out that the sister, in light of all of her man problems, has turned to women. She now lives with a woman and, as my friend nervously pointed out *incaseIwanttoturndownthewholetripbutsheknowsIhavefriendslikethis*..., they share a room.
Between becoming my own version of a cowgirl out west and experiencing first hand some sort of a lesbian/bisexual Brokeback Mountain thing, this summer is sure to generate some interesting if not thought-provoking blog material. Stay tuned.
My friend asked if I would like to go to California this summer. She has a sister out there who she visits every year. From what I understand, the sister has a nice piece of property nestled in a valley very close to the mountains. The sister also has several horses so we will be riding and riding and maybe riding some more on this trip. My friend said she wants me to go because, selfishly, she wants a horseback riding buddy. I told her no problem...she can use me all she wants for that.
I have known this friend for several years and have often heard about her sister. Apparently, Sister has not had very good luck with men. She was in a very abusive relationship when she lived here in the Midwest so she went to California to get away from all of that. Once in CA she met and married a guy and had 2 kids. They were divorced about 2 years ago because the guy was fooling around behind her back. She bought her place and moved away from him. When my friend asked me to go with her in July, she was a bit nervous. She asked me out to lunch and hemmed and hawed a bit before I finally said what's the deal. It turns out that the sister, in light of all of her man problems, has turned to women. She now lives with a woman and, as my friend nervously pointed out *incaseIwanttoturndownthewholetripbutsheknowsIhavefriendslikethis*..., they share a room.
Between becoming my own version of a cowgirl out west and experiencing first hand some sort of a lesbian/bisexual Brokeback Mountain thing, this summer is sure to generate some interesting if not thought-provoking blog material. Stay tuned.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
...and then I took on the roofing company
One evening during the year of HouseBuildingHell, H assigned me meet him at *the plumbing place* so we could pick out the sinks, toilets, and faucets for the new house. Because I was so (not) *into* the entire process of the planning, decorating and emerging beauty of the new house, I none-so-eagerly showed up after work to browse the various colors, shapes, sizes, and finishes of all things plumbing. Anyone who followed the neverending saga of building The House heard about how I detested the whole process …thus I was usually not a very pleasant person during these little shopping trips.
Nancy, the plumbing hostess, led us to the display of kitchen sinks once we had *tested out* both the standard and comfort height toilets. (She actually had us sit on the toilets so we could *feel* the difference. H was really enjoying himself during this. He even practiced holding a newspaper so he was truly sure which height was best.) PlumbingNancy was happily chatting about the benefits of her own black kitchen sink as she presented the selection of sinks. It never showed dirt, was terribly modern with her decor, etc. etc. The kicker with sinks, I found out, is that they come standard with a certain number of holes for the faucet, sprayer, etc. As luck would have it, the *Cashmere* colored sink came only with 3 holes (see, otherwise you have to have that *unsightly plate-thing to cover the extra hole) when the *Fairfax* faucet we liked required only 2, one for the actual faucet and one for the drinking water spout-thingie. PlumbingNancy suggested we get a soap/lotion dispenser to fill the extra hole. She was thrilled with the dispenser she had with her black sink and she raved on about how she doesn’t know what she would do without it. Obviously, PlumbingNancy does not live with H. Her husband probably works in an office and does not come home covered in pipe dope, drywall glue, and other various substances H encounters at work. Nancy's husband most likely comes home and announces he just needs to freshen up and he'll be back to help Nancy with the second and third courses of their meal. H for some reason jumped on the bandwagon and hailed the benefits of the in-sink soap dispenser. He lauded the utter convenience of the thing, how well they are made, bleah bleah bleah. Nancy was beaming with delight. S-O-L-D.
Fast forward to the present:
The soap dispenser and I have had an ongoing battle of goo since day one of installation. The damn thing is possessed and driving me to drink. (As IF I even need a ride!!) H is tired of my ranting and finally tells me to write to the company and stop complaining to him. I write a scathing letter to Kohler that ends with a question as to why I can purchase a soap dispenser from Bath and Body Works that will dispense thickasheck- beaded-with-moisturizer-anti-bacterial soap without fuss for just a few dollars while my $$$$$$$ *Kohler Fairfax* does not and has never worked.
I received a new dispenser for all of my troubles. Yea. On top of that, I received a note from *Customer Service* stating “We have determined human error as the cause of the soap dispenser failure”.
Human error?
MY Human Error?? Honey, I have worked in Customer Service for nearly 20 years. I could give seminars on The Golden Rule of dealing with customers so I'll give you a little hint: You never blame THEM.
I wrote back stating that my only human error with their product was purchasing it in the first place.
Anyway, it's all Plumbing Nancy's fault... but at least I didn’t get a black sink.
Nancy, the plumbing hostess, led us to the display of kitchen sinks once we had *tested out* both the standard and comfort height toilets. (She actually had us sit on the toilets so we could *feel* the difference. H was really enjoying himself during this. He even practiced holding a newspaper so he was truly sure which height was best.) PlumbingNancy was happily chatting about the benefits of her own black kitchen sink as she presented the selection of sinks. It never showed dirt, was terribly modern with her decor, etc. etc. The kicker with sinks, I found out, is that they come standard with a certain number of holes for the faucet, sprayer, etc. As luck would have it, the *Cashmere* colored sink came only with 3 holes (see, otherwise you have to have that *unsightly plate-thing to cover the extra hole) when the *Fairfax* faucet we liked required only 2, one for the actual faucet and one for the drinking water spout-thingie. PlumbingNancy suggested we get a soap/lotion dispenser to fill the extra hole. She was thrilled with the dispenser she had with her black sink and she raved on about how she doesn’t know what she would do without it. Obviously, PlumbingNancy does not live with H. Her husband probably works in an office and does not come home covered in pipe dope, drywall glue, and other various substances H encounters at work. Nancy's husband most likely comes home and announces he just needs to freshen up and he'll be back to help Nancy with the second and third courses of their meal. H for some reason jumped on the bandwagon and hailed the benefits of the in-sink soap dispenser. He lauded the utter convenience of the thing, how well they are made, bleah bleah bleah. Nancy was beaming with delight. S-O-L-D.
Fast forward to the present:
The soap dispenser and I have had an ongoing battle of goo since day one of installation. The damn thing is possessed and driving me to drink. (As IF I even need a ride!!) H is tired of my ranting and finally tells me to write to the company and stop complaining to him. I write a scathing letter to Kohler that ends with a question as to why I can purchase a soap dispenser from Bath and Body Works that will dispense thickasheck- beaded-with-moisturizer-anti-bacterial soap without fuss for just a few dollars while my $$$$$$$ *Kohler Fairfax* does not and has never worked.
I received a new dispenser for all of my troubles. Yea. On top of that, I received a note from *Customer Service* stating “We have determined human error as the cause of the soap dispenser failure”.
Human error?
MY Human Error?? Honey, I have worked in Customer Service for nearly 20 years. I could give seminars on The Golden Rule of dealing with customers so I'll give you a little hint: You never blame THEM.
I wrote back stating that my only human error with their product was purchasing it in the first place.
Anyway, it's all Plumbing Nancy's fault... but at least I didn’t get a black sink.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Just in case you notice me in blue eyeshadow and liquid liner
I stopped out at the mall the other day. It was Clinique Bonus Time and, well, even when I have all the makeup I need I can still find something to purchase in order to get that free gift which still, after nearly 20 years, includes bright yellow Dramatically Different Moisturizer. Who can’t resist that cheery colorful makeup bag with the fun trial sizes? Once while purchasing my obligatory amount of Clinique in order to get my free gift, a woman was walking past the counter with her husband. She saw that it was Bonus Time and suddenly turned to her husband and said “I…I…need some…something!” She didn’t even know what she would buy but she was obviously upset with herself for shopping with her husband during Bonus Time…husbands just don’t quite understand the obsession.
When I first began wearing Clinique makeup, I was just starting college. I remember feeling like I was entering a special sisterhood as I walked up to the brightly lit counter. Suddenly I felt very, very mature. No longer would I peruse the Maybelline and Bonnie Bell aisle at Walgreens. I would instead plunk down an obscene amount of money for bright silver eyeshadow cases and faux green marble blusher containers. And I, like many others, would eagerly await Clinique Bonus Time when it was all worth it because you got free stuff. Being a virgin to this new way of makeup shopping, I was assisted by the woman in the sterile white lab coat who was behind the counter. I remember she had short, blond hair and wore red glasses very similar to Sally Jesse Raphael. Several of us eventually referred to her simply as “Red Glasses Lady”.
Where did you get that great frosted eyeshadow?
Well, Red Glasses Lady recommended it…it’s a new shade.
Or
I can’t remember which color blush I used last summer…I’m going to have to check with Red Glasses Lady.
Always friendly but never pushy, Red Glasses Lady helpfully guided my friends and I thru Honey Blush, frosted eyeshadow duos, Moisture Surge Lotion, and self tanner.
I have since, in the course of makeup-wearing, shopped other Clinique counters in various cities across the country and even the world. The other day when I stopped in at my original store for my purchase and Bonus, I was assisted by none other than Red Glasses Lady herself. Only now she is sans the red glasses due to lasik surgery a few years ago. As I was waiting for her to ring up my purchase, another customer and I began talking about Red Glasses Lady and her friendly years of service to us. RGL returned to the counter and heard the last of our conversation wherein I said, “I feel like I have grown up with her!” To that, RGL smiled and informed us she is going to be retiring next month. The other customer and I both agreed that Clinique Bonus Time surely will not be the same without her. Certainly, our makeup shopping will not be nearly as comfortable without her expertise. Who would we trust now for new shades of colorful shadow and makeup tips? In a way, it was kind of sad. I didn’t realize how attached I was to something so everyday and familiar that I didn’t really think about it. I even feel kind of bad now about straying from her store to others during the last several years. I felt like a bit of a Clinique-counter slut. Anyway…
Thanks Red Glasses Lady…I’ll miss you!
When I first began wearing Clinique makeup, I was just starting college. I remember feeling like I was entering a special sisterhood as I walked up to the brightly lit counter. Suddenly I felt very, very mature. No longer would I peruse the Maybelline and Bonnie Bell aisle at Walgreens. I would instead plunk down an obscene amount of money for bright silver eyeshadow cases and faux green marble blusher containers. And I, like many others, would eagerly await Clinique Bonus Time when it was all worth it because you got free stuff. Being a virgin to this new way of makeup shopping, I was assisted by the woman in the sterile white lab coat who was behind the counter. I remember she had short, blond hair and wore red glasses very similar to Sally Jesse Raphael. Several of us eventually referred to her simply as “Red Glasses Lady”.
Where did you get that great frosted eyeshadow?
Well, Red Glasses Lady recommended it…it’s a new shade.
Or
I can’t remember which color blush I used last summer…I’m going to have to check with Red Glasses Lady.
Always friendly but never pushy, Red Glasses Lady helpfully guided my friends and I thru Honey Blush, frosted eyeshadow duos, Moisture Surge Lotion, and self tanner.
I have since, in the course of makeup-wearing, shopped other Clinique counters in various cities across the country and even the world. The other day when I stopped in at my original store for my purchase and Bonus, I was assisted by none other than Red Glasses Lady herself. Only now she is sans the red glasses due to lasik surgery a few years ago. As I was waiting for her to ring up my purchase, another customer and I began talking about Red Glasses Lady and her friendly years of service to us. RGL returned to the counter and heard the last of our conversation wherein I said, “I feel like I have grown up with her!” To that, RGL smiled and informed us she is going to be retiring next month. The other customer and I both agreed that Clinique Bonus Time surely will not be the same without her. Certainly, our makeup shopping will not be nearly as comfortable without her expertise. Who would we trust now for new shades of colorful shadow and makeup tips? In a way, it was kind of sad. I didn’t realize how attached I was to something so everyday and familiar that I didn’t really think about it. I even feel kind of bad now about straying from her store to others during the last several years. I felt like a bit of a Clinique-counter slut. Anyway…
Thanks Red Glasses Lady…I’ll miss you!
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
My latest senior moment
For some reason, I have a great sensitivity to seeing old men by themselves. I have no idea where it comes from, since the majority of my life is spent making sarcastic fun of people in general. It happens nearly every time I encounter an older man who isn’t doing something retiree-esque such as golfing or having coffee with his friends. If I am, say, shopping and I see an older man stocking shelves or worse yet being a greeter in a store, I have the tendency to get a bit teary. To me, they just deserve better. He probably misses his wife and her wonderful beef stew and maybe his kids grew up and live far, far away and don’t call or write and that’s why this poor guy is working his part time hours to pass the time until Wheel of Fortune comes on at 6. My sister calls it my *sickness*. She will burst into gales of laughter in telling the story of my emotional encounters with the older man that used to work in the local K-Mart. Every time I went into the store there he would be stocking the Martha Stewart towels or slowly trying to figure out the cash register in the midst of a bunch of over made-up GenX teens. Once, to my horror, my sister phoned me to say she saw him sitting all by himself, ringing a bell and dressed as Santa Claus in the front of the store. I avoided the place for the entire holiday season. I must have died a lonely old man in a previous life.
Last Friday I was doing my usual grocery shopping. I was moving along, minding my own business in the chip and dip aisle when suddenly I had one of my *senior moments*. Coming towards me in one of those motorized cart-things was an older gentleman. He had on a little pageboy cap and very thick glasses. He motored right for me for a brief moment and suddenly took a sharp left turn right into the potato chips. As he buried the entire front of his cart in the Ruffles I could hear the air-tight bags popping and the chips breaking. Instinctively I wanted to turn around and just go away. Heroically, I might add, I grabbed the *handlebars* of his cart and planted myself so he could bury himself no further into chip and dip hell. Mumbling something about how to stop, he slowly moved his finger from the *gas pedal* and brought the thing to a stop, nearly running over my foot in the process.
As much as I wanted to shake that old man and scream at him for making me all teary and emotional because here he is all alone on his little cart crashing into things with no one to help him because his wife died and his kids never call and how did he even get to the store did he actually drive himself????, I instead smiled all brightly and said, “Whoops, better take it easy there!”
I really do need some help. Really.
Last Friday I was doing my usual grocery shopping. I was moving along, minding my own business in the chip and dip aisle when suddenly I had one of my *senior moments*. Coming towards me in one of those motorized cart-things was an older gentleman. He had on a little pageboy cap and very thick glasses. He motored right for me for a brief moment and suddenly took a sharp left turn right into the potato chips. As he buried the entire front of his cart in the Ruffles I could hear the air-tight bags popping and the chips breaking. Instinctively I wanted to turn around and just go away. Heroically, I might add, I grabbed the *handlebars* of his cart and planted myself so he could bury himself no further into chip and dip hell. Mumbling something about how to stop, he slowly moved his finger from the *gas pedal* and brought the thing to a stop, nearly running over my foot in the process.
As much as I wanted to shake that old man and scream at him for making me all teary and emotional because here he is all alone on his little cart crashing into things with no one to help him because his wife died and his kids never call and how did he even get to the store did he actually drive himself????, I instead smiled all brightly and said, “Whoops, better take it easy there!”
I really do need some help. Really.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Hello? Is it you???
Tonight at the gym I was on the eliptical trainer...located just behind the treadmills. As I huffed and puffed, I happened to look at this woman who was working just as hard as I on her treadmill. She looked vaguely familiar. You know, how you KNOW somone...but you just can figure out WHO she is. The entire time I was eliptically training, I stared at Treadmill Woman. Who the hell IS SHE?, I thought?? As finished my eliptical workout, Treadmill Woman happened to be finished with her workout and headed out the door to her car. She glanced my way once with no sign of recognition.
All of the sudden, it came to me! This person, Treadmill Woman, looked exactly like BlogPerson Lynne! I don't even know Lynne, I am but a lurker on her site...but I have seen so many pics from HotBabe, Stacy, and Christine, that I recognized her right there on the treadmill in my very own club!
Lynne, next time you are pep-stepping away on your treadmill in NW Indiana and the person behind you on the eliptical trainer is staring at you, rest assured it is just me, WTC.
All of the sudden, it came to me! This person, Treadmill Woman, looked exactly like BlogPerson Lynne! I don't even know Lynne, I am but a lurker on her site...but I have seen so many pics from HotBabe, Stacy, and Christine, that I recognized her right there on the treadmill in my very own club!
Lynne, next time you are pep-stepping away on your treadmill in NW Indiana and the person behind you on the eliptical trainer is staring at you, rest assured it is just me, WTC.
Practice makes perfect...if you have the time.
I just got a call from my mother. Now that they are both retired, she and my dad enjoy attending these educational seminars offered by our community. The seminars are directed to seniors and cover all sorts of topics from medical issues to political issues, to music, to pets. They actually sound quite interesting even to a non-senior like me. They are, apparently, so interesting that the venue where they are held is getting too small for the senior crowd. According to Mom, some of the attendees have complained about parking, not being able to hear the speaker, and even not enough seats for everyone. My heart goes out to the poor soul who has to field those phone calls.
Anyway,
Mom told me she and Dad just received the newest seminar schedule.
"Your father and I just got the new Social Senior Schedule. They finally decided to move it to a larger building. It was so crowded your father couldn’t hear."
"That’s great Mom, they seem to get quite a crowd."
"Well, your father is pretty sure he knows the parking around the new place."
"It will be handy to know where to go, especially in bad weather."
"The programs don’t start until next week but your father and I are going to drive to the new place tomorrow."
"How come?"
"Well, your father and I need to practice going to the new place."
I so need to retire...
Anyway,
Mom told me she and Dad just received the newest seminar schedule.
"Your father and I just got the new Social Senior Schedule. They finally decided to move it to a larger building. It was so crowded your father couldn’t hear."
"That’s great Mom, they seem to get quite a crowd."
"Well, your father is pretty sure he knows the parking around the new place."
"It will be handy to know where to go, especially in bad weather."
"The programs don’t start until next week but your father and I are going to drive to the new place tomorrow."
"How come?"
"Well, your father and I need to practice going to the new place."
I so need to retire...
Friday, January 13, 2006
I couldn't stop lisenen to her
I have a most unfortunate duty, I think, in that I have to be “The Voice” of the phone system at my workplace. You know how when you call a business and “The Voice” gives you a number of options that hopefully get you to whom you wish to speak? That Voice. Once my mom called and when I answered my phone she said, “That was YOU!...That voice…It was YOU!” as if she had suddenly recognized me on the street and realized I was the leading lady in an academy award winning film. It was very exciting for her.
When I record the greeting, I try to be very careful about my pronunciation and diction because I am so very anal retentive. During the *recording sessions*, I need several attempts before I am satisfied enough to “go public” with the finished product. Hey, it isn't easy rattling off departments and extensions...and timing when to take a breath so I don't sound as if I am gasping for air. Oh, the stress! It is so not my favorite job! Consequently, when I call various businesses, I try to listen closely to their Voice just in case I might pick up any tips for my own performance. It can be very educational I have discovered.
The other day I had to phone one of our customers. The Voice was so very endearing because I will bet the woman spent a lot of time getting it as perfect as she possibly could.
Thank ya fer callin . Please lissen carefully to the followin options…
Fer Purchasin, press one
Fer Perduction, press two
Fer Shippin, press three...
The Voice was actually quite pleasant in a sing-songy country Tammy Wynette kind of way. In listening to the entire list of options there was not a "g" to be heard. It had me so intrigued, I forgot why I had called in the first place!
I am not sure why I wanted to post about this...It is just one of those cute things I find amusing in my odd little world.
Thank ya fer readin it.
When I record the greeting, I try to be very careful about my pronunciation and diction because I am so very anal retentive. During the *recording sessions*, I need several attempts before I am satisfied enough to “go public” with the finished product. Hey, it isn't easy rattling off departments and extensions...and timing when to take a breath so I don't sound as if I am gasping for air. Oh, the stress! It is so not my favorite job! Consequently, when I call various businesses, I try to listen closely to their Voice just in case I might pick up any tips for my own performance. It can be very educational I have discovered.
The other day I had to phone one of our customers. The Voice was so very endearing because I will bet the woman spent a lot of time getting it as perfect as she possibly could.
Thank ya fer callin . Please lissen carefully to the followin options…
Fer Purchasin, press one
Fer Perduction, press two
Fer Shippin, press three...
The Voice was actually quite pleasant in a sing-songy country Tammy Wynette kind of way. In listening to the entire list of options there was not a "g" to be heard. It had me so intrigued, I forgot why I had called in the first place!
I am not sure why I wanted to post about this...It is just one of those cute things I find amusing in my odd little world.
Thank ya fer readin it.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
When they scratch at the door what does it mean?
I bought some reins on ebay a couple of weeks ago. Now that I have a horse to ride I feel it necessary to further grow my tack collection beyond merely a used saddle. One never knows when one will need to look coordinated and classy on one’s horse. Who knows, I could be invited to a show, parade, or Olympic Games at any moment and I want to be prepared.
When I received the reins in the mail, they included a color pamphlet describing the seller’s spiritual counseling business. The woman is a channel, animal communicator, horse trainer, author, nutritional consultant, energy-meridian therapist, a 4th degree black belt, and founder of Zen Horsemanship. I am thinking I purchased my reins from God herself. Boy, do I ever feel inadequate after reading that resume. The pamphlet included a number to call for past life readings, channeled readings, spirit communications, animal totems, energy balancing, ghost evictions, and animal communications. At this time, I don’t have much need for past life readings or ghost evictions; however, I am kind of intrigued by animal communications.
“Animal Communications are about healing. This takes place in the subtle body of the animal, spreading to their human companions. Increased awareness to the animals’ needs and their purpose is a benefit gained.”
I read all of this and took a good look at my dog Missy as she gnawed on her Nylabone.
“Sucker…I’ll lie here and look like I am all into this and just as soon as that chick leaves to ride her precious horse I am so on the couch.”
I looked over at the other dog as he lounged on his dog bed…
“Ya, AS IF I am supposed to be comfy on this piece of crap. I call the chaise!”
Feeling very increased in my awareness, I bought 2 new dogbeds today.
When I received the reins in the mail, they included a color pamphlet describing the seller’s spiritual counseling business. The woman is a channel, animal communicator, horse trainer, author, nutritional consultant, energy-meridian therapist, a 4th degree black belt, and founder of Zen Horsemanship. I am thinking I purchased my reins from God herself. Boy, do I ever feel inadequate after reading that resume. The pamphlet included a number to call for past life readings, channeled readings, spirit communications, animal totems, energy balancing, ghost evictions, and animal communications. At this time, I don’t have much need for past life readings or ghost evictions; however, I am kind of intrigued by animal communications.
“Animal Communications are about healing. This takes place in the subtle body of the animal, spreading to their human companions. Increased awareness to the animals’ needs and their purpose is a benefit gained.”
I read all of this and took a good look at my dog Missy as she gnawed on her Nylabone.
“Sucker…I’ll lie here and look like I am all into this and just as soon as that chick leaves to ride her precious horse I am so on the couch.”
I looked over at the other dog as he lounged on his dog bed…
“Ya, AS IF I am supposed to be comfy on this piece of crap. I call the chaise!”
Feeling very increased in my awareness, I bought 2 new dogbeds today.
Monday, January 09, 2006
My main squeeze
MAG
Originally uploaded by WalkTrotCanter.
He walks, he trots, he canters!!!Finally...A pic of the newest man in my life! Meet Mr. Magoo! His eyes look a bit funky from the flash but he seemed to enjoy our little photo shoot.
Sunday, January 08, 2006
I just want to clear the air about Friday
On Friday afternoons, I usually do my grocery shopping immediately after my riding lesson. The store is conveniently located near the barn so popping in, picking up my items for the week before heading on home seems to work out just fine. One disadvantage of my speedy method of grocery shopping is that I am usually still dressed in my riding clothes while shopping. I don't smell or anything...it isn't like I stomp in horse shit and wander around the fresh veggies, but I do tend to look a bit dusty just from being in the barn.
This past Friday, I was doing my usual *shopping in ridingwear*. I was nearly finished and heading down the dairy aisle when, just ahead of me, I heard "Ohhhhhhhh Daddy!!!" I looked up and there was a man about my age with three little kids. Another kid said, "Awwww Dad...let's get outta here!" I couldn't figure out what had happened until I moved forward and tried to breathe..."Dad" had let off one of those putrid beer or chili farts that was lingering right next to the margarine. As luck would have it, a woman happened to be heading down the aisle right towards me, just as I entered the toxic zone. Me in my dusty riding clothes.
"Dad" and the kids sped off and guess who got the"I can't be-LIEVE you stunk up the refrigerator section you filthy barn rat!" look of sheer disgust?
This past Friday, I was doing my usual *shopping in ridingwear*. I was nearly finished and heading down the dairy aisle when, just ahead of me, I heard "Ohhhhhhhh Daddy!!!" I looked up and there was a man about my age with three little kids. Another kid said, "Awwww Dad...let's get outta here!" I couldn't figure out what had happened until I moved forward and tried to breathe..."Dad" had let off one of those putrid beer or chili farts that was lingering right next to the margarine. As luck would have it, a woman happened to be heading down the aisle right towards me, just as I entered the toxic zone. Me in my dusty riding clothes.
"Dad" and the kids sped off and guess who got the"I can't be-LIEVE you stunk up the refrigerator section you filthy barn rat!" look of sheer disgust?
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
A very belated holiday review...
Well, the inflatable Santa, life-sized snowglobe, chaser lights, pine-scented pillows, and NOEL fingertip towels have all been stored neatly in their cheery red and green plastic bins…the holiday season is officially over. YEA!!! (Actually, I never had any of the above…I just like the blogworld to think I get into the holidays like every other red-blooded American and buy the latest and greatest in tacky seasonal items.) I have been the non-blogger for too too long! Not that I have had nothing to write about, it is pure end-of-the-year laziness. That and I have been riding my horse every day for several hours a day. I think I was beginning to get a bit bowlegged so thankfully I am back to work. I am trying not to sit on my deskchair as if it is a saddle…that might get some odd looks from my coworkers.
I have been reading about some of your holidays…you all have these warm, inviting photos to share, silly stories of presents and toys and wonderful trips. Honestly, it is impossible for me to even attempt to top any of that so I will simply review the past couple of weeks in bland list form. You may have the idea I am not very fond of the holidays and you are correct. I don’t detest the merry time of year, I simply get tired of the idea that everything is supposed to be happy, cheery, and tied with festive red ribbons. I do the happy, cheery, red ribbon thing for about a week and then I am broke, crabby, and ready for all of it to end. I do try my best to vew the entire season with humor; however, most of the time I seem to revert back to my usual sarcasm...imagine that. Anyway, back to the list:
H & I celebrated Christmas Eve by munching on Chinese food and watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I fell asleep before my favorite line, “To my big brother George, the richest man in town!” H was happy I was asleep because despite having seen the movie a zillion times, I cry every single time.
On Christmas day, we had my parents and NASCAR brother over for drinks. NASCAR brother brought a jar of North Carolina moonshine he had received as a gift. After tasting it, we all agreed it could probably best be put to use running an automobile. Yikes. On an interesting note, my folks gave H & I a humongous package of homemade sausage as a gift. The thing must weigh about 10 lbs. Knowing I am not a fan of sausage whatsoever, my mother said, “I know you two don’t really eat this, but it will be great to serve when you have people over.” With that amount of sausage, I am thinking we could invite a third world country for a get-together and still send people home with doggie bags.
For the second year in a row, I received no horse-related items as gifts. I give up. Thankfully, I have my own little horse now (YAHOO!) and I am ebaying myself together as far as necessary equipment. As much as I would have LIKED new breeches, a saddle pad, brushes, tall riding boots, a crop, a quilted vest, a titanium helmet, chaps, reins, a snaffle bit, boot socks, and/or a saddle cover, I was a good girl and smiled with thanks for the chocolate fondue set and Dilbert calendar.
H tends to get a bit bummed out on Christmas morning because he would love to have a houseful of kids to wake us with their present-opening anticipation. He has this idea that every other family shares a Norman Rockwell-esque warm fire, well-behaved youngsters, a golden retriever, and a Mrs. Cleaver wife during the holidays. I can’t understand why an icy cocktail, two neurotic poodles, and a wife in riding clothes won’t cut it for him. Anyway, he was feeling his usual we-need-some-kids mood until my brother and his family arrived. By the time our nephew was lounging all over the new sofa eating greasy chicken wings and our niece was projectile vomiting on the new area rug, his tune was rapidly changing to “when can we have our cozy quiet house back”. It was really kind of funny to watch. Poor H and his romantic ideals.
Last of all, it seems our cookies-for-the-neighbors sales tactic worked. We received friendly little cookie-reciprocations from several of the power-washing folks around us. One was even a late Christmas Eve delivery complete with a hearty, “Welcome to the neighborhood!!”. Perhaps they only wanted to get a closer look at Those who don’t decorate the wellhead and Those who don’t extract the unsightly soil from the driveway but the cookies were pretty darn tasty.
By the way, a belated Happy New Year to everyone!
I have been reading about some of your holidays…you all have these warm, inviting photos to share, silly stories of presents and toys and wonderful trips. Honestly, it is impossible for me to even attempt to top any of that so I will simply review the past couple of weeks in bland list form. You may have the idea I am not very fond of the holidays and you are correct. I don’t detest the merry time of year, I simply get tired of the idea that everything is supposed to be happy, cheery, and tied with festive red ribbons. I do the happy, cheery, red ribbon thing for about a week and then I am broke, crabby, and ready for all of it to end. I do try my best to vew the entire season with humor; however, most of the time I seem to revert back to my usual sarcasm...imagine that. Anyway, back to the list:
H & I celebrated Christmas Eve by munching on Chinese food and watching It’s a Wonderful Life. I fell asleep before my favorite line, “To my big brother George, the richest man in town!” H was happy I was asleep because despite having seen the movie a zillion times, I cry every single time.
On Christmas day, we had my parents and NASCAR brother over for drinks. NASCAR brother brought a jar of North Carolina moonshine he had received as a gift. After tasting it, we all agreed it could probably best be put to use running an automobile. Yikes. On an interesting note, my folks gave H & I a humongous package of homemade sausage as a gift. The thing must weigh about 10 lbs. Knowing I am not a fan of sausage whatsoever, my mother said, “I know you two don’t really eat this, but it will be great to serve when you have people over.” With that amount of sausage, I am thinking we could invite a third world country for a get-together and still send people home with doggie bags.
For the second year in a row, I received no horse-related items as gifts. I give up. Thankfully, I have my own little horse now (YAHOO!) and I am ebaying myself together as far as necessary equipment. As much as I would have LIKED new breeches, a saddle pad, brushes, tall riding boots, a crop, a quilted vest, a titanium helmet, chaps, reins, a snaffle bit, boot socks, and/or a saddle cover, I was a good girl and smiled with thanks for the chocolate fondue set and Dilbert calendar.
H tends to get a bit bummed out on Christmas morning because he would love to have a houseful of kids to wake us with their present-opening anticipation. He has this idea that every other family shares a Norman Rockwell-esque warm fire, well-behaved youngsters, a golden retriever, and a Mrs. Cleaver wife during the holidays. I can’t understand why an icy cocktail, two neurotic poodles, and a wife in riding clothes won’t cut it for him. Anyway, he was feeling his usual we-need-some-kids mood until my brother and his family arrived. By the time our nephew was lounging all over the new sofa eating greasy chicken wings and our niece was projectile vomiting on the new area rug, his tune was rapidly changing to “when can we have our cozy quiet house back”. It was really kind of funny to watch. Poor H and his romantic ideals.
Last of all, it seems our cookies-for-the-neighbors sales tactic worked. We received friendly little cookie-reciprocations from several of the power-washing folks around us. One was even a late Christmas Eve delivery complete with a hearty, “Welcome to the neighborhood!!”. Perhaps they only wanted to get a closer look at Those who don’t decorate the wellhead and Those who don’t extract the unsightly soil from the driveway but the cookies were pretty darn tasty.
By the way, a belated Happy New Year to everyone!
Saturday, December 24, 2005
The stockings have been hung on the chimney with care...
HO HO HO!!!
I have not had much time to blog this week...what with whipping up yummy yule logs, glue-gunning festive baubles for present-wrapping, gathering dried folage for my table's centerpiece, and taking time to shrink wrap gift baskets for the needy, I have hardly had time to do anything. Ya right...let's get serious.
H & I are hanging out at home this weekend...he deserve's a long winter's nap after all of his hard work the past year. (Mainly putting up with me!) *Hanging out* will pretty much involve cocktails, movies, and munching on snacks, as these are a few of our favorite things. We may change out of our sweat pants to walk the dogs if they REALLY have to go. My sis and family from Michigan are arriving on Monday so we will have a houseful of guests. I am making dinner for a crowd on Monday evening...sis, parentals, NASCAR brother, etc., so I have a bit of meal-planning to do...but it will be fun. I am off the entire week so it's time to relax and visit!
The very bestest news of all is that I am now the *leasee* of a lovely chestnut Quarter Horse gelding!!!!!!!!!! It is a bit of a stretch financially but H & I agree it is a good way to start out so we know what owning a horse will cost in the future. I am beyond thrilled...I feel like a 6-year old on Christmas morning, actually! Honestly, I am kind of afraid I will run the poor horse into the ground riding every day...but I was assured he is *healthy as a horse* and he needs to be ridden so there you go.
I'll post a picture so you can all oohh and ahhh about him. He's such the little peach!
Have a safe and happy holiday everyone! Merry Christmas!
I have not had much time to blog this week...what with whipping up yummy yule logs, glue-gunning festive baubles for present-wrapping, gathering dried folage for my table's centerpiece, and taking time to shrink wrap gift baskets for the needy, I have hardly had time to do anything. Ya right...let's get serious.
H & I are hanging out at home this weekend...he deserve's a long winter's nap after all of his hard work the past year. (Mainly putting up with me!) *Hanging out* will pretty much involve cocktails, movies, and munching on snacks, as these are a few of our favorite things. We may change out of our sweat pants to walk the dogs if they REALLY have to go. My sis and family from Michigan are arriving on Monday so we will have a houseful of guests. I am making dinner for a crowd on Monday evening...sis, parentals, NASCAR brother, etc., so I have a bit of meal-planning to do...but it will be fun. I am off the entire week so it's time to relax and visit!
The very bestest news of all is that I am now the *leasee* of a lovely chestnut Quarter Horse gelding!!!!!!!!!! It is a bit of a stretch financially but H & I agree it is a good way to start out so we know what owning a horse will cost in the future. I am beyond thrilled...I feel like a 6-year old on Christmas morning, actually! Honestly, I am kind of afraid I will run the poor horse into the ground riding every day...but I was assured he is *healthy as a horse* and he needs to be ridden so there you go.
I'll post a picture so you can all oohh and ahhh about him. He's such the little peach!
Have a safe and happy holiday everyone! Merry Christmas!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
Merry Christmas to All...
H’s last day of bell ringing at Wal Mart was last week. He has such confidence when he goes into these things. I know he dreamed of his moment of fame when the mysterious gold coin would appear during HIS stint with the bell. I think he had visions of transforming the entire town into a celebratory scene from a Hallmark card as he stood next to his bright red kettle.
Instead, on his last night, he had to move out of the way to make room for the police and ambulance folks to get inside the building to deal with the woman in the wine aisle who smashed a bottle over a guy’s head.
…and to all a good night.
Instead, on his last night, he had to move out of the way to make room for the police and ambulance folks to get inside the building to deal with the woman in the wine aisle who smashed a bottle over a guy’s head.
…and to all a good night.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Power Sellers
Since H and I moved into the neighborhood during what I like to call “The Broiler Portion of Summer”, most of the neighbors were holed up in their air-conditioned homes on the weekends, bar the weekly powerwashing of the driveway by the neighborhood men. The noise of the powerwashers made it somewhat difficult for H and I to introduce ourselves so we normally gave a friendly wave (or hoist of the Miller Lite in my case). The powerwasher-people usually returned the wave, often with a somewhat puzzled look as if to say, “Who are you…you who sit idly while your driveway collects dirt and grime?” Once the powerwashing season was over, the weather got cold and no one came outside so we have not met many neighbors. These people don’t know what they are missing…wait til they find out that H will rake leaves, blow snow, and generally become a cabana boy once he gets to know them. Anyway, we were kind of hoping to get somewhat of a jump-start before next Spring as far as knowing who goes with what powerwasher. We figure maybe they will find us to be somewhat normal despite our unsightly driveway, battlefield themed well-head, and mole-tunnel filled yard. I know, our chances are getting pretty slim…especially since my potted mums on the porch kept falling over and blowing across the yard during my attempt to fit-in and seasonally accessorize this past Fall.
During some discussion the past couple of weeks, we decided we are going to try the direct approach and actively campaign to meet our neighbors during the holidays. Instead of painting holiday-themed signs or whipping something together with felt and a gluegun, we decided to bake cookies and distribute them to the folks on our street. We made several varieties of cookies over the weekend and I purchased snowman-containers and raffia ribbon so we could put our little packages together in deliciously attractive bundles.
H: What do you think I should write on the card?
WTC: Feliz Navidad…then they will think we are foreign and thus don’t know how to powerwash.
H: No, really…
WTC: How about Jesus is the reason for the season! Then they will realize we are religious and can’t do yardwork on Sundays.
H: Will you stop it…they will think we are weird.
WTC: We ARE weird.
“From our powerwasher to yours, H & WTC wish you a very happy holiday”
During some discussion the past couple of weeks, we decided we are going to try the direct approach and actively campaign to meet our neighbors during the holidays. Instead of painting holiday-themed signs or whipping something together with felt and a gluegun, we decided to bake cookies and distribute them to the folks on our street. We made several varieties of cookies over the weekend and I purchased snowman-containers and raffia ribbon so we could put our little packages together in deliciously attractive bundles.
H: What do you think I should write on the card?
WTC: Feliz Navidad…then they will think we are foreign and thus don’t know how to powerwash.
H: No, really…
WTC: How about Jesus is the reason for the season! Then they will realize we are religious and can’t do yardwork on Sundays.
H: Will you stop it…they will think we are weird.
WTC: We ARE weird.
“From our powerwasher to yours, H & WTC wish you a very happy holiday”
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Another holiday classic from Indiana!
I may have mentioned previously my *love* for *attractive* Christmas decor and kozy kristmas crafts. A 7’ inflatable Santa, a life sized snowglobe, animated light-up reindeer, cheery glue-gun-assembled wreaths, cornhusk nativity sets…my list of items goes on and on. Screw the classy red bows and lighted garland…I want plastic candy canes, chaser lights, and wreaths on the grille of the car!
After the big Midwest snowstorm last week, H ventured back to our old neighborhood to plow snow for our two neighbor ladies. The two are sisters, in their 50’s, who live together. While we lived on that street, H always raked their leaves and shoveled their walk in the neighborly gestures that make H the nice guy he is. (Amazing that such a giving guy should end up with someone as selfish, sarcastic, and bitchy as me…opposites attract, I guess.) Anyway, since we have moved from the neighborhood, he feels sorry that suddenly these ladies have to fend for themselves during the brutal Indiana seasons of falling leaves and snow. The two ladies were thrilled that H arrived to save the day. He was showered with hot tea and freshly baked cookie treats. He also came home with a gift. A lovely thoughtful and handmade gift.
Knowing my *affection* for tacky craft items, H brilliantly placed the homemade sign at the entrance to our garage. I nearly drove through the garage door when I saw it.
Frosty and Me Welcome Thee!
WTC: “Yikes, where on earth are we going to put that?”
H: “Ummmmmmm, I guess we can’t leave it here by the garage in case they stop over.”
WTC: “Well we can’t put it on the porch or anything, someone might SEE it!”
H: “I know, it isn’t exactly your style unless the Frosty means a nice iced glass of something”
WTC: “Perfect. Let’s put it on the bar, then and call it good.”
Sunday, December 11, 2005
Overheard last evening in the Ladies Room of a rather fancy restaurant:
Oh my god…I am so wasted
Ya, you’re pretty bad
I haven’t had a drink in three years. I’m so wasted.
You drank at last year’s party, didn’t you?
No, I haven’t drank in three years.
But you were so wasted at last year’s Christmas party. That was crazy.
I wasn’t drunk, tho, I just smoked the pot, remember?
Oh ya…right. You are so wasted.
Ya, you’re pretty bad
I haven’t had a drink in three years. I’m so wasted.
You drank at last year’s party, didn’t you?
No, I haven’t drank in three years.
But you were so wasted at last year’s Christmas party. That was crazy.
I wasn’t drunk, tho, I just smoked the pot, remember?
Oh ya…right. You are so wasted.
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