Chocolate milk and toast

One of my favorite breakfasts is sitting down to a frosted glass of chocolate milk and a couple of crispy slices of toast.  It's not even that I really like chocolate milk, it's the memories the chocolate milk and toast bring back.

Chocolate milk and toast take me on a journey way back in time.  To a time of self discovery. A time I was a teenager struggling to find my identity, learning how to love life, live life and how to thrive.  It was a time I was closest to my oldest sister who is no longer with us.  A simpler time.

It was a time of tanning in the back yard, using the garden hose to cool off and  moisten our bodies.  Of flipping over ever 15 minutes so we could "bake" evenly, front and back.  Of laughter and nonsense.  Of squishing our bellies together with our hands and cracking up over how it made our bellies look like a baby's butt.  There's nothing quite like a sun kissed body!

It was summer days full of Knots Landing, Dallas (we loved to hate J.R.!) and the Eagles.  Cruising around in a '64 pea green cougar, rocking out to Heart,  The Eurythmics, and Kiss.  Singing at the top of our lungs (usually off key) with the windows down, the sun streaming in and our hair blowing itself into long tangled knots. Later, during more mellow moments, digging on Lou Rawls.

Ahhh, the memories.  I say my sister is no longer with us, but that's not entirely true.  She lives on in my memories and the special moments that we shared.  She's the sound of music playing on an old radio in the front seat of a '64 cougar...she's the soft laugh that ends in a hiccup and a sigh when I hear something funny.  C'mon sister, let's go for a ride...

Feeling a little melancholy today...

I am a thrift store junkie and a dime store diva

I'm totally addicted to thrift stores and bargain stores.  I've found everything from Rolex watches to Egyptian gold rummaging through these little digs.  Today I ventured out to do a little rummaging, looking for wall hangings in a Tuscany style.

I have an eye for putting things together, for blending colors and design.  In minutes, I can have a cart filled with an unusual assortment of items that individually look unimpressive, but as a whole become something interesting and colorful.

Most often I don't really know what it is I have in mind when I set out, only a vague idea of what I want to accomplish.

Each of these items were found at different thrift stores, none of them coming from the same store and yet, each one with subtle variations of the same color schemes. 

                                                                                                 

 Two small wall hangings

I particularly LOVE this clay vase!  A bit on the primitive side but it appeals to me.  Grouped together, the colors in these items flow smoothly. 

I can't wait to get them all put up, but for now, it's time to relax, put my feet up and contemplate my next little adventure.

I only wish my friend Lindsay could have taken the photos for me.  Speaking of which, if you have a love for fine photography, check him out here  Lindsay Donald

To tweet or not to tweet?

I've just set up a Twitter account but I can't seem to make sense of what's going on there.  Everybody's following somebody (somewhere) and it all seems to go in absolutely no particular direction.

Why is it that the first person to "follow" me lead straight to an XXX site?

How do you follow a conversation on there?  I haven't been able to make any sense of the "chatter" yet.  I can't even seem to find where all these conversations originate.  Is it just me, or is there some kind of method to this madness?

High Speed Technology....NOT

If it weren't for my phone card I wouldn't have internet access at present.  Even as I should be thrilled I can get online, some mornings I feel like this:

                       



Pingomatic Directory

Claim to fame or walk of shame?

Today I've been busy promoting my blog. I don't know how many of you are familiar with all the means of getting pinged, zinged or badabinged out there but I'm utilizing those avenues that I'm familiar with.  This post is just a confirmation that I own this blog.  You may now tune back to your regularly scheduled programming.  Thank you.

FGFUGDQ2RJCG

Blogging with abandon

I've been a blogger for many, many years.  I can recall a time when I blogged with total abandon, writing about anything and everything and enjoying a loyal following of other fellow bloggers. 

Those were the days.  A bunch of nonsensical fun.  Each blogger writing in a style unique to them.  The variety was like my own personal smorgasboard where I could feast my eyes on whatever written diet of words I desired on any given day.  Or I could gorge myself on ALL the varieties at once.  Manna from heaven!

Lately it seems I've lost my muse.  So I search.  I read.  I visit other bloggers seeking inspiration.  While I haven't quite found where my muse is hiding, I have found some fascinating individuals who rekindle my love for writing and stir the smoldering embers of writing with abandon.  Take Annah for example, at When Red Means Go.

She's a little risque, totally off the wall, but I completely get her sense of humor!  She's blogging her way to "famosity" and makes no bones about it. I do, however, think the whole "eating kittens" part is a bit of a sham, but shhhh, we won't mention that!  I laugh at the thought even as I hide my "kittens" from her keen eye.  (Forgive me Annah, I tried to email you for permission but this crazy system wouldn't allow me...grrr)

And then there's Geri, a military wife and mom to two kids.  Her life is never dull as she dances dangerously with her cats, takes on the principal and coaches like a bulldog and waits anxiously for her husband to be deployed.  There's never a dull moment around her house!  You can visit Geri at http://justmedefyinggravity.blogspot.com/ .  You won't be disappointed. 

I'd like to find my sense of "abandon" again.  As I tumble in and out of one blog after another I feel I should bring a gymnasts mat.  Sometimes I laugh so hard I fall to the floor.  Other times a post is so outrageous it makes me swoon.  Never, however, am I ever bored!

For other fantastic blogs check my list of blogs I follow. 

Frog man

I just watched my husband do the naked, drunk, frog man walk from our R.V. down to the house that we're preparing to move in to. Mind you, he is not a navy seal or anything military related. The only things he had on were his flip flops and a cocky smile. No pun intended.

      

As he high stepped over the thigh high weeds and grass I thought I'd snap some pictures but I saw how white his hiney is and I don't think the flash on my camera works too well against that kind of white...

Why is it when you take a man out of the city and drop him in the country he's suddenly Rambo gone commando? A little rumble in the jungle? His primitive side, (along with his back side) begin to show.  Just him and his "boys" enjoying the cool night air.

Zeus the goose

My savannah cat, Zeus, loves the water. It's not uncommon to hear shrieks coming from the bathroom whenever some unsuspecting soul steps into the shower or slinks into a warm bath. Even though I give fair warning, some people just don't listen and if Zeus is allowed in the bathroom he believes it's his right to join you in the tub.

We'd brought Zeus up to spend a week with us in the R.V. at Shawnee lake. I wasn't sure if he would be as excited with such a large body of water, but I put him on his leash and harness and off we went.

The initial introduction to this foreign body of wetness was met with hissing, scratching, flailing legs and horrible howls.  After a quick dunking, Zeus settled right in and was curiously swimming with me and the little one.


Occasionally he would paddle out and give one of us a little loving head butt then realize his paws were no longer touching bottom and swim back in to safer places.

After a short while of swimming, skipping after minnows and ferociously attacking water weeds until he was certain he'd killed them, I decided he'd had enough for his first time out and took him to shore.

I dried him off with a towel and he sunned himself for a bit. Drowsy, Zeus was ready for a nice little nap. I watched him as he slept, marvelling at how much he resembles the wild cats. His head is more cougar shaped now and his eyes have a definite exotic slant.

It's crazy how much I love this cat, but I do and he's one of the greatest gifts I've ever received.  If he ever dies I think I'll have his head and tail stuffed and turn him into a purse.

Slip sliding away

When my two sons were small we saw something on t.v. that got us really excited. It was the hottest part of summer and we were looking for ways to cool off when we saw a commercial for the Slip N Slide.

Looking back, I question my sanity as a parent. Initial impressions said this device would be great fun but I really didn't think beyond what my eyes had seen on that blinking t.v. screen.

Off we went to purchase this amazing instrument of slippery summer fun. Joyfully we toted it home. Following the manufacturers simple instructions, we were able to create our own personal nirvana.

Triumphantly, we stood back to admire our handiwork. A long, yellow snake of plastic stretched out flatly before us, water shooting gentle streams inviting us to have some fun  !

Wheeee~ Look at me!

                                        

Just look at that face in the photo!  How could any mother not be excited?  For hours we ran and jumped, our bodies arcing through the air and landing with a resounding "thwack" on the wet plastic.  One belly flop after another as we slid the length of that slippery yellow snake. We wiggled and we squiggled and we laughed out loud! 

How could I know that this harmless seeming device was, in reality, a device of torture? 

As I tucked the boys in bed that night I prided myself on being a good parent.  We'd had a wonderful day of fun, sun and laughter.  The following morning told it's own tale as I rolled out of bed, moaning and groaning and clutching my body.  Oh the deception! I couldn't sit up for days. 

Who in their right mind could ever think that body slamming yourself onto solid ground for endless hours with only a thin sheet of plastic between you and the dirt could be a good thing?  For me the end results were similar to having somebody take a wooden plank and hit me in my  belly with it .  Over and over again.