Tag Archives: random thoughts

Lost and Found

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I had a 24-hour run of very weird things happen to me — well, weird in my world, at least. Some of this may be slightly gross, so you have been warned. First, I lost my underwear. What happened was that I was visiting Older Daughter and I was taking a shower in 2-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable’s bathroom. I brought clean clothes in and took off my pajamas and underwear and then when I got out of the shower and got dressed in my clean clothes and gathered up my already-worn clothes, I could not find my underwear. Anywhere. Completely disappeared. I looked in all the towels and under the rugs, but nada. I even wondered if they’d gotten tangled up in the clean clothes — cargo capris and a T-shirt — I’d just put on but they didn’t seem to be there anywhere. (Notice how I’m trying to avoid the use of the word “underpants” since I am a good Southern girl and we just don’t use language like that out loud in mixed company.) My son-in-law gives my 2-year-old grandson Capt. Adorable his bath in that bathroom and I really didn’t want either of them to find my missing … well, you know, but a thorough search turned up nothing.  So I sort of forgot about the mystery and went on about the day — playing outside, going out for lunch, meeting and greeting — until a few hours later when I returned to the bathroom. And as I was leaving, I felt something soft skitter down my leg and there on the floor was the missing article of clothing. It apparently had gotten tangled up in my pants and had only then worked its way down. Very strange. And what I want to know is: Has this happened to anybody else? Is there an epidemic of underwear falling out of people’s pants legs? Do I need to be on the lookout for this?

And the weirdness only continued: The next day I was late for a hair appointment but the salon was closed when I got there so I left to run more errands and then the stylist got there after all and thought I was late but I came back and we were each glad we hadn’t given in to our impulses to leave scathing voice mails. So I got in the chair and she started cutting and all of a sudden she asked me if I had any old pantyhose. (Yes, even when it’s 95 degrees and 95 percent humidity, we Southern women will still wear pantyhose.) Turns out hair salons are collecting the hair that usually ends up on the floor and sending it to the Gulf for use in buoys that will soak up some of the oil spill. And also collecting pantyhose to put the hair in. The stylist and I debated the merits of used versus new pantyhose for oil-soaking-up and didn’t reach any conclusion. But my hair did contribute to the cause.

Then I needed lunch but my favorite downtown lunch place turned out apparently not to be my favorite since it had closed two weeks ago and I didn’t even know. So then I craved a veggie burger from Burger King but the nearest BK had a note on the door saying its broiler was broken although they could still fry anything you wanted. Add in road work and detours everywhere. So there you go.

But all was well this morning because my weekly column in the Florence, Alabama, TimesDaily ran next to a story about “Sex and the City” fashion so my column and photo is right next to a the headline that reads “Fabulous at any age.”  Yes, ma’am. I’ll take any adjacent and reflected glory I can get.

Bugs and Bones

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My laptop suddenly developed an annoying quirk of not letting me do anything until I’d signed up for some sort of anti-virus, anti-spam, pro-we’re-holding-your-computer-hostage-until-you-fork-over-$39.99 bug so I ran it over to my favorite computer folks for an emergency bug-dectomy. Luckily, Younger Daughter is Dayton, Ohio, for a competition  with the high-school percussion group she’s working with, so I’m borrowing her laptop, which she totally would let me do if she were here to ask. And of course there’s always the clunky old desktop, too. Remember back in the old days when the desktop was the only computer in the house and you had to sit right in front of where it was to use it???

Older Daughter’s had to sit down to do everything lately since she sprained/broke her ankle in spectacular fashion by falling in a hole their dog had dug in their backyard and has been hobbling around with a splint and crutches. But it’s not her fault, poor baby. Read my weekly newspaper column at http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20100416/ARTICLES/4165005 to find out who’s to blame.

Random Thoughts

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Did you ever think about all the things you know and take for granted that somebody else might think is the most incredible idea ever? For instance, a friend of mine and her husband are hydroponic farmers. Twice a week (soon to be three-times-a-week, by the way, for all local fans of Jack O’Lantern Farms in Florence, Alabama), they host a market to sell their produce and other fresh and yummy food items. Recently they started selling Higher Ground coffee, and they offer samples of a different flavor at every market. One day my friend said she had made too much coffee for the market and hated to dump it all out. I said, “Just make coffee ice cubes.” Turns out she’d never heard of that, but I do it whenever I have leftover coffee — and it does happen! Just pour the extra elixir of life coffee into ice cube trays and freeze. When the cubes are frozen, pop them into a freezer bag. You can use them to cool a too-hot cup without watering it down. Or put them in smoothies or cold and/or frozen coffee drinks. Anyway, my friend thought that was genius, and it got me wondering about all those little tips we have tucked away that we never think to share. Here are two more of mine that maybe you’ve never considered:

1) Keep a pair of inexpensive utility scissors (not your good sewing scissors) plus some airtight-sealable plastic sandwich and quart bags in your bathroom. When you think you’ve gotten everything out of your tubes of lotions and creams and gels, cut them open and you’ll be amazed at what’s left. You can get several days’ use out of something you thought was empty. Just be sure to keep the cut tube pieces in an airtight plastic bag so the product doesn’t go all yucky.

2) Before you put your boots away for spring — and I’m talking your good leather boots here — take them to a shoe-repair shop for thorough cleaning and any repairs. Don’t be shy. Load up your car with every pair of boots you’ve got and take them all over. It may take a while to get them back and you might think it’s a bit pricey (or maybe that’s just my local shoe shop), but I promise you the bill will be less than a pair of new boots and you’ll extend the life of your favorite pairs by several seasons. Besides, you need a shoe shop on your side for those footwear emergencies that always seem to happen at the worse possible time.

My third tip? Never put a roll of damp paper towels over a light bulb to dry out. But probably you already knew that.

Random Thoughts

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Have you ever had people say things to you — and I’m talking nice things here — that made you see yourself as someone other than the person you think you are? It always amazes when I see myself from somebody else’s perspective since usually the image does not jive at all with the image I have of myself. I mean, it sort of makes you wonder if the private you — the one that mostly lives inside your head — and the public you — the one that goes to work and the grocery store and PTA meetings — have anything in common whatsoever. This past week I had three people say things to me/ask me questions that threw me for a loop: 1) The person who cuts and styles my hair told me, “You’re always so sweet and cheerful when you come in. It just makes me day,” when really I think of myself as crabby and grumpy, especially when I have to spend $$$ just to make my hair look presentable; 2) the person working in the dressing rooms at my favorite discount-clothing store asked me if I knew where to find a purse with a clasp closure for a Christmas present, when I really think of myself as someone who can barely find her own purse and get outside the door with two matching shoes; and 3) a person in local-theater circles and I were chatting at a local coffee shop about the struggles of writing and what to do when you hit a wall and I said that caffeine always helps and this person said that (insert name of illegal drug) helps, too, and then sort of paused as if waiting for me to suggest we go get some. So in the space of three days, I’ve been identified as sweet, stylish and a drug user  — when really I’m just a grouchy un-put-together coffee fiend. Sigh.

Random Thoughts

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... because nothing says "Christmas" like planning your keg party.

... because nothing says "Christmas" like planning your keg party.

Mailboxes

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MailboxDid you know that U.S. mail carriers can give you a parking ticket? Well, not really. But they can leave you snarky little notes. Yesterday I went to my daughter’s house and parked on the street, careful to not block their mail box. I am a law-abiding citizen, after all. And polite. But apparently I Residential mailboxam not law-abiding or polite enough because when my son-in-law came home from work, he was waving a parking-ticket-like piece of paper and laughing. “The mail carrier is mad at you,” he said. The paper was printed with 19 infractions, complaints and transgressions regarding residential mail boxes and according to the emphatic and accusatory black-ink circle, I had broken No. 9: “The approach to your box should be kept clear of snow, vehicles and other obstacles.” Sooorrrrryyyy. Let’s get the measuring tape out, shall we? But what really got me was all the other 18 home-mailbox rules that potentially could be contravened, such as “No. 2 — The door needs attention:” “Nos. 5-6 — Box should be raised/lowered __ inches;” “No. 10 — The signal flag needs attention;” and “No. 18 — Your box should be painted to prevent rusting.” Who knew? The note goes on to say that the Postal Service might stop delivering mail until you raise/lower, paint or whatever. But what about all the dilapidated, rusted, dented, falling-down and falling-apart mailboxes I see all the time? Do they get snarky little notes, too? It’s like all the people who speed past you on the interstate and then you get stopped for doing 3 miles over the limit. Sigh. And then in related news — how’s that for former newspaper-reporter lingo? — I read this morning that the Postal Service is removing its blue collection boxes because fewer people are using them. Coincidence??? I think not.

Facebook Game

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Am I the last person to do ABC’s of Me from Facebook? I loved it — quick and easy and very Twitter-like. I you haven’t done this yourself, give it a try.

A – Age: 51

B – Bed size: Queen

C – Chore(s) you hate: Every single damn one of them

D – Dog’s name: Abby the Lately Beloved

E – Essential start-your-day item: Cappuccino. Espresso. Coffee. Rinse and repeat.

F – Favorite color: Green. No, yellow. No, blue.

G – Gold or Silver: Platinum

H – Height: One inch higher than whatever my husband claims.

I – Instruments you play: Cellphones

J – Job title: I used to have one of those …

K – Kid(s): Older Daughter (mother of grandson Capt. Adorable), Younger Daughter (college student contemplating fulfilling her mother’s dream of master’s/doctorate in English) plus Son-in-Law (Most Talented Artist Ever) and four cats.

L – Living arrangements: Married. With benefits.

M- Mom’s name: Susan Jeanette

N – Nicknames: ????

O – Overnight hospital stay other than birth: Too fuzzy to remember

P – Pet Peeve: People who cannot drive. And people who yell at people who cannot drive.

Q – Quote from a movie: From “Time Bandits” — Kevin: Yes, why does there have to be evil?
Supreme Being: I think it has something to do with free will.

R- Right- or left-handed: Right

S – Siblings: Two younger brothers, who of course were spoiled rotten and were raised by different parents than those who raised me and they got everything they ever wanted. But as all my friends and other family members know, I’ve come to grips with this and have moved on and don’t ever hardly think about it one little bit anymore at all.

T – Time you wake up: Anywhere from 4:30 to 5:30 a.m. — I know, I know. I can’t help it. It’s a curse.

U- Underwear: Yes.

V – Vegetable you dislike: One word — limayuckybeans

W – Ways you run late: Standing in my closet frantically throwing clothes on the floor and moaning, “I don’t have anything to wear. Why are all my clothes so awful? Why doesn’t anything fit? Why do I look so horrible?” In other words, typical morning routine.

X – X-rays you’ve had: Too fuzzy to remember.

Y – Yummy food you make: I am well known for my peanut-butter cookies, sandwich rollups, Chex Mix, spiced-tea mix and fresh salads. Hey, I’m thinking restaurant menu …

Z – Zoo favorite: Being on the outside looking in.

Note:  I said “Married with benefits” because my husband and I have a commuter marriage that straddles two states, which means I get to live in Alabama and Mississippi sort of both at the same time, with our home state of Tennessee thrown in, too. So get your mind out of the gutter.

Random Thoughts

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nolan-jan-2009-045When the bottom shelf rack fell out out of the refrigerator door not once but twice a few days ago, I knew we were heading into our own personal Series of Random Unfortunate Events, because this is what happened next (and I’m not even counting the fact that our upstairs heating-unit stopped working on Christmas Eve Eve and my college-senior daughter got her nose pierced in October): 1) My car needed all new tires; 2) My digital picture frame’s screen went weirdly and sort of scarily red; 3) Our Comcast Internet and local NPR station were gone for days; 4) Our new Christmas-present TV wasn’t working properly, leaving us unimpressed with big-screen high-def; and 5) The refrigerator incidents resulted in two broken bottles of wine and one smashed-to-bits shelf. But 1) we got new tires and figured out how to set up our TV properly, 2) Comcast and NPR came back, 3) I’m working on digital-picture-frame and refrigerator-shelf replacement and 4) none of these problems required calls to or visits from plumbers, electricians, doctors, hospitals, insurance agents, fire fighters or police officers and all loved ones are happy and healthy and accounted for, so what am I complaining about?

Houses

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saltillo-house-001This is our house. Okay, not really. But it’s a house my husband saltillo-house-006found and wanted me to look at it and think about, which is a big deal for us because we don’t have an “our” house.  The house we live in now is the one my ex- husband and I bought when we first moved to Alabama almost 15 years ago. He and I got divorced shortly after, so for most of those 15 years my two daughters and I have lived there in single-parent female-centric bliss. Now my husband and I have been married for 4 1/2 years, the girls are pretty much out on their own (one married with her own home and the other a college senior) and it’s time for our own place. I mean, he’s a great sport and hasn’t minded that the house is full of girly stuff and remnants of my ex-husband and doesn’t really reflect his style at all. So when he said, “Hey, I found a house I like. Let me show you,” I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I love this house! I love all the little nooks and crannies. I love that it looks different and comfortable all at the same time.  Of course, I’d change several a few of the details, and we haven’t gone inside or even seen a house plan, so who knows? And we’re not talking about this specific house, either. It’s off the Natchez Trace Parkway near Saltillo, Mississippi, in a new development. It’s a pretty spot but not the place for us. But from what I can tell from the outside of it, if I could take this house (with the several few changes) and plop it down somewhere close to family and friends and art galleries and theaters and good grocery stores, coffee shops and bookstores, I’d be happy. Of course, I’m happy right now in our house that still has decorating leftovers from high-school prom 2004 and the spot where our beloved Lab chewed the windowsill, but I can see where my husband might be ready to move on. And I think I’m (getting) ready, too.

Chaos Theory

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I go for for years without hearing the word “snuff” and then I hear it twice in the same week. And not only hear it, but hear it in conversations directed toward me. The first time was when the doctor at the medical clinic I’d gone to with a sinus infection this past weekend asked me if I “dipped.” (Read more about this at http://www.timesdaily.com/article/20081219/ARTICLES/812190302/1004). The second time was  Friday on my (usually) daily visit to my 93-year-old mother-in-law at a local nursing home. When I go in the afternoon, she’s normally asleep, but that’s OK because her roommate — we’ll call her Mrs. H. —  likes to talk. And by “talk” I mean she asks where Larry and them are and urges me to tell them to get a move on because they gotta go to town later and dinner’s almost ready. (It’s always a party at the nursing home.) But on Friday, after I asked Mrs. H. how she was and she allowed that she was pretty good, she looked me directly in the eye, jabbed a finger in my direction and said, “Don’t never do snuff. You can’t get shut of it. It’s that bad. I wish I never had.” Yes, ma’am. Point taken. I can absolutely promise never to do snuff. So that makes twice in one week that people have asked me/urged me if I did/not to do snuff. Very strange. My husband says this is chaos theory, which I interpret to mean you don’t do anything for five Saturday nights in a row and then three  invitations arrive for the same Saturday night but you end up getting a sinus infection and stay home anyway. Or two people in one week mention snuff to you. Go figure.