Friday, June 24, 2011
DUH.
Hm. I wonder if I'm halfway losing it. I was doing intense research last night on my computer (ok, I was facebooking), and Mike came in from VBS. I asked if there was a good crowd and he said there was. He then went into the bedroom and evidently got in bed to read. A while later I heard some soft music from the back of the house. I went to find out what it was and found Mike in bed on his computer. I said "Oh hi. When did you get home?" He looked at me over his computer with an odd look that said "What the heck?". I looked at him blankly, not understanding the look. Then it SLOWLY came to me what had happened. I vaguely remembered him coming in. Hope this does not happen again on a regular basis. Oh, and yes, today I have to get an attorney first thing today to fight Mike committing me to the bughouse. Y'all pray.
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Ok. So I'm a technotard. I admit it.
I successfully retrieved some of my old posts from FB tonight. BUT--- (And that's a big but), when I posted them here on this handy dandy blog I got them out of sequence. I can't figure out how to move them around on this site yet. Maybe someday I'll learn, but until then if I were you, I'd read them according to dates from the oldest to the present. That will give you a little continuity of what the Girls were doing. Otherwise you'll be lost as two dogs (one dog couldn't be that lost) about their carryings on. Ok. Just shut up and do what I say, hear?
Girls' Night Out- It's the Little Things. February 19, 2010
Well, folks. Tonight was the big night again. The Cracker Barrel was hoppin' tonight. Brenda Allen came in with someone that I know HAD to be Elvis in disguise. I could tell by the head held high and that confident stride. Sometimes you just have that gut feeling about something. And my gut said the KING was in the room. I don't know who his plastic surgeon was, but he did a good job. Even down to giving him a perfect head. Only a few men have a head worthy of being shaved. The rest, eh. This guy was perfect. I just knew that if the joint had a band, he'd be up there gyrating and singing Blue Suede Shoes at the drop of a hat.
Anyhoo, there was the usual chatter. This month all had their calendars out doing the colonoscopy shuffle. They were all coordinating who was getting one and who was driving who. Then who was returning the favor. It is a beautiful thing to see folks working together like that. When I was watching the goings on, tears came to my eyes.
Char was back from the Greased Pig Wrestling National Championships in lovely Minot, North Dakota. We were all proud that she got all the way to the last round. Unfortunately, the regulations for the round were that all contestants had to use Crisco. Chars preferred greasy substance was WD 40, so that put her at a slight handicap right off. Now with the Crisco, you did have the choice of oil or solid. Char made a change up at the last minute to solid. That proved her undoing for sure. The way we heard it online from the paramedics, she threw herself right off on to the hogs back ( the dreaded Mr Porky, well known in the upper plains), she couldnt get her grip around his neck. He started his famous sharp veer to the left. She was thrown to his right and received a hip check from the swine. This threw her back onto his back but forward where she unintentionally head butted him in his occipital region. This immediately knocked her out and she fell to the sawdust covered tile floor in a heap. It seems ( the way the paramedics explained it) that she came to in the hospital crowing like a rooster and remained that way for bout 36 hours. By this time, the docs at Minot Childrens' Hospital (yes, she ended up there. What do you expect? It's Minot!) suspected a head injury. Thank the Lord, when she came around she pretty much was in her right mind. The only lasting residual Is that every once in a while she'll punctuate her verbiage with a few clucks and a crow every now and again. Kinda like Tourette's Syndrome. Those of us that are close to her understand and still love her despite this unfortunate handicap. Her students do make fun of her behind her back, the hateful little punks. We have been told that she may eventually come out of it. We can only hope.
Well, we were so happy to have her back with us that I watched with secret joy when she got involved in the giddiness around the colonoscopy plans. I'm just glad that she got back in time to schedule hers. It's the little things in life that bring the most joy.
Char was back from the Greased Pig Wrestling National Championships in lovely Minot, North Dakota. We were all proud that she got all the way to the last round. Unfortunately, the regulations for the round were that all contestants had to use Crisco. Chars preferred greasy substance was WD 40, so that put her at a slight handicap right off. Now with the Crisco, you did have the choice of oil or solid. Char made a change up at the last minute to solid. That proved her undoing for sure. The way we heard it online from the paramedics, she threw herself right off on to the hogs back ( the dreaded Mr Porky, well known in the upper plains), she couldnt get her grip around his neck. He started his famous sharp veer to the left. She was thrown to his right and received a hip check from the swine. This threw her back onto his back but forward where she unintentionally head butted him in his occipital region. This immediately knocked her out and she fell to the sawdust covered tile floor in a heap. It seems ( the way the paramedics explained it) that she came to in the hospital crowing like a rooster and remained that way for bout 36 hours. By this time, the docs at Minot Childrens' Hospital (yes, she ended up there. What do you expect? It's Minot!) suspected a head injury. Thank the Lord, when she came around she pretty much was in her right mind. The only lasting residual Is that every once in a while she'll punctuate her verbiage with a few clucks and a crow every now and again. Kinda like Tourette's Syndrome. Those of us that are close to her understand and still love her despite this unfortunate handicap. Her students do make fun of her behind her back, the hateful little punks. We have been told that she may eventually come out of it. We can only hope.
Well, we were so happy to have her back with us that I watched with secret joy when she got involved in the giddiness around the colonoscopy plans. I'm just glad that she got back in time to schedule hers. It's the little things in life that bring the most joy.
Girls' Night Out- Special Edition Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Evening, all. Thought I better touch base with you to let you know what's going on with all us gals. Of course, last Thursday we met up with each other at the Cracker Barrel. Well, four of us anyway. I think you already know that Pip's in the Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, Boo-Boo" Rehab Center in scenic rural Idaho. Yep, she's facing her cough syrup addiction with a dogged attitude and vowing to beat the monkey off her back. (and get rid of the cough syrup problem, to boot). So actually she has an acceptable excuse for being absent this month, in my humble opinion. Peg made it back to Indiana in her 65 Rambler, still rolling along at 35 MPH on the little spare. Unfortunately, along about Nebraska she finally lost her back door that had been wired shut since 1979. Seems she hit a cow and the poor ol' bossy ripped off the door trying to get away. Now what she was doing in a cow pasture with a Rambler, I don't know. I don't even want to hear her flimsy excuses. I still think it had something to do with her time hanging around with the riff-raff at the Tastee Freeze in Downtown Pocatello. She's a tad bitter at those folks, I hear. Seems while she was there she got to smoking those cheap cigars that she likes, and finally the big Kahuna asked her to leave cause the fumes were making the soft-serve smell like cigar smoke. Now if you don't know about the Tastee Freeze employees, they are fiercely protective of their soft serve. Hence and forthwith, they gave her the bum's rush out to the county line. About the cow pasture- personally I think maybe, just for a time, she gave up the cigars for a little roll-your-own wacky tobacky. BUT, I can't prove it and her lips are sealed.
Anyhoo, we got to gossiping about Aunt Irene. Seems she was on the" We Be Way Old"Senior Citizens' Dating Website and met her a new man. I guess she's quite smitten with him, too. He's one of them Bikers on a Harley "Wanna Be". The way I hear it is that he bought a 1959 Indian brand spankin' new. Still rides it rain or shine. One thing he won't do is ride on ice or snow. I guess they say he used to, but slid going too fast around the "S" curve over by Thayer, laid it down, and broke a hip. Witnessess say it put him outa commission for about 18 months. I guess during that time he got so crabby that he ran off his 2nd wife (he outlived his first one, God rest her soul). Now, the way I hear it was when he saw her picture on the dating website, he thought she looked like Betty Davis, and wanted to meet her. Now normally, this is not the kind of man Aunt Irene would like. But he was a persistent ol' bugger and kept on until she consented to meet him on neutral ground at the Country Kitchen lunch counter. They talked and he kept winking at her. (later on she found out the had a particle in his eye that night, but I digress). She noted that he had a 15 inch long thin ponytail flowing from white hair ringing his head. The crown of his head was slick- bald with no warts or moles. We had grown a pair of white mutton chop sideburns (he was growing hair where he could). He refused, however, to grow a beard because he just knew the Moose Lodge would draft him to play Santey Claus at the yearly Christmas party.
Well, anyway, Aunt Irene was not so sure about riding the bike with him. The only thing she had ridden other than a car had been a Farm-all tractor back in the 40's and 50's. But, not wanting to be called an Old Fogey, she got on and surprisingly loved the feel of the wind in her dentures. Evidently, this has opened up a whole new chapter in her life and she has embraced it, whole hog. There's even a rumor going around town that she went to the tattoo parlor and got herself a tramp stamp. If that ain't love, I don't know what is....
Char was still in Minot, enjoying all the sights. Take it from me, when a small town girl gets to the big city, ya kinda hate to miss out on the big city offerings while you're there.
Barb had an infection in the site of her earlier bilateral bunionectomy and was oozing pus wherever she walked. Said she refused to go to the doctor because "He's got all the money out of me that he's gonna get!" One thing about Barb, she can be quite stubborn when she wants to be. Honestly, I still don't know how she walks in the snow with those flip flops on. She's says that's all she can get on at the present time. Oh well. I can stand it if she can. But it really does turn my stomach seeing her toenails turn blue due to the cold. But hey, it's her life......
As we were sitting at the table there at the Cracker Barrel, Sis was quietly eating her monthly meatloaf.
Usually she was much more vociferous than she was being. As a matter of fact, she had hardly opened her mouth all night. Now for Sis, that's really saying something. Finally we got her to confess to the thoughts she was having. Evidently she'd been at work at the Family Express and grabbed a quick snack. They had just got in some luscious Goo Goo Clusters and she partook. Unfortunately, she forgot to drop the money for it in the till after her break and was feeling guilty as sin. We told her to just lay low driving through DeMotte going home. That way, if the boss had seen it on the security camera and had a warrant put out on her, she could at least make it home.I did tell her not to squeal her tires or draw any unnecessary attention to herself to get pulled over. You know the DeMotte law enforcers would have her in the lock up sure as shootin'. I told her to just sneak into the store in the morning and go to the boss and plead and beg for mercy. Oh- and cough up the cash.
Sheesh. That's ALL we need right now in our family. Someone with a record.
Char was still in Minot, enjoying all the sights. Take it from me, when a small town girl gets to the big city, ya kinda hate to miss out on the big city offerings while you're there.
Barb had an infection in the site of her earlier bilateral bunionectomy and was oozing pus wherever she walked. Said she refused to go to the doctor because "He's got all the money out of me that he's gonna get!" One thing about Barb, she can be quite stubborn when she wants to be. Honestly, I still don't know how she walks in the snow with those flip flops on. She's says that's all she can get on at the present time. Oh well. I can stand it if she can. But it really does turn my stomach seeing her toenails turn blue due to the cold. But hey, it's her life......
As we were sitting at the table there at the Cracker Barrel, Sis was quietly eating her monthly meatloaf.
Usually she was much more vociferous than she was being. As a matter of fact, she had hardly opened her mouth all night. Now for Sis, that's really saying something. Finally we got her to confess to the thoughts she was having. Evidently she'd been at work at the Family Express and grabbed a quick snack. They had just got in some luscious Goo Goo Clusters and she partook. Unfortunately, she forgot to drop the money for it in the till after her break and was feeling guilty as sin. We told her to just lay low driving through DeMotte going home. That way, if the boss had seen it on the security camera and had a warrant put out on her, she could at least make it home.I did tell her not to squeal her tires or draw any unnecessary attention to herself to get pulled over. You know the DeMotte law enforcers would have her in the lock up sure as shootin'. I told her to just sneak into the store in the morning and go to the boss and plead and beg for mercy. Oh- and cough up the cash.
Sheesh. That's ALL we need right now in our family. Someone with a record.
Girls Night Out-A New Beginning January 3, 2010
I'm going to speak to you about something that has seriously affected our happy family. Addiction. There. I said it. If you've been following our life story, you'll remember that Pip was confronted with her cough syrup addiction and she finally consented to go to rehab. Woot! After a long drive courtesy of Peg and her 1965 Rambler, she arrived at The Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, Boo-Boo" Rehab Center in Idaho the last week of November. The drive there was harrowing to say the least due to the fact that Peg drove all the way there on a mini spare tire that prohibits driving over 35MPH due to safety factors. Because she's a soft touch (Read: Enabler) , Peg let Pip partake of her cough syrup of choice- Delsym- the entire trip. She figured it wouldn't hurt since if Pip changed her mind she couldn't jump out of the car anyway. The Rambler's door had been wired shut since 1979 when it was hit from behind by an Allis Chalmers tractor doing 25 MPH in a church parking lot. The Allis and it's 6-year-old driver sustained no injuries. It was reported that the six year old was trying to ditch Sunday school when the accident happened. It was also reported that the Allis Chalmers was parked at the church by the pastor who used it to plow up his garden on the church lot. No charges were filed.
Anyhoo. The trip would have been very hard on Pip without the cough syrup. And not because of her addiction, either. It seems that when Peg went to Tahiti for her hula lessons, she acquired a taste for cheap cigars. What with the smoke from the cigars and the thin air during the climb over the Rocky Mountains, Pip woulda horked up a lung at some point. Instead, she laid in the back seat (in the fetal position) mumbling unintelligibly and popping Ricolas all the while. The Ricolas were a little anesthesia to help Pip cope with Peg's singing along with the eight track. While the sisters love each other alot, it was a bit much to put up with Peg's choice of music. Since she was a small child, she always had a heart for Zimbabwean Harp and Drums Corps music. That, and the fact that Peg had a "tin-ear" and couldn't sing on key for nothing. Of course, (being the loving family that we are) we never told Peg that she sang out of tune. Guess we should have just up and told her but hindsight's 20/20. Peg insisted on an expensive vocal coach for years which my Mom happily paid for (Poor mama was clueless, being deaf as a post). Peg felt she had a career as an opera singer when she got outa high school. But when she graduated, she took a job at the Tastee Freeze in town and started living the fast life.
During the trip, Sis kept in touch with the girls via cell phone. It was a bit coincidental that she had just taken a job as a researcher for Verizon. Every 20 minutes she'd call and say "Can you hear me now"?.
Unfortunately, Peg had Sprint for her cell carrier and anything outside of Poughkeepsie comes through garbled.
God bless her, Barb dipped into her jar which had the money she'd been saving to buy a new Harley (one with all the bells and whistles) and had given them money for gas and eats for their trip. Because Peg wanted to make good time getting there, they mainly ate at drive thru's.
They tended to frequent the White Castle Restaurants that were adjoined to Gas stations. There, they could get gas AND get gas. White Castle was Pip's favorite food joint. Peg- being the kind person she is- humored her.
The kind staff at the Cracker Barrel had all chipped in and bought a box of Moon Pies for the trip. They knew what a hard road this rehab stint was going to be and wanted to communicate their love. They even sent a to go order of luscious pinto beans. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.....
The girls were supposed to meet up along the way with Char for supper one night. Char was flying into Minot for the World Finals of Greased Pig Wrestling. Now this was THE competition that all GPW's (greased pig wrestlers) longed to qualify for. Char had only taken up this hobby in July of '08 when she saw it as the Main Event in the grandstand at the County Fair. It was love at first sight, and she hasn't looked back since. Luckily, Char, being the quick study that she is, took to GPW like a duck to water. She was able to qualify for the '09 Finals and Minot had quickly become a reality.
They were able to meet up at a Weeny Joint close to the South Side American Legion, where the GPW Finals were being held. This was the first real "sit down" meal of the trip. Peg and Char enjoyed a bit of conversation, while Pip slipped out to the 7-Eleven on the next block for a new bottle of cough syrup and a bag of Ricolas.
In a few minutes she was back, but ticked off in a big way. Seems all the 7-Eleven had was Pediacare Cough and Cold and Halls Honey and Lemon cough drops. She said she had to buy 2 of each because otherwise she wouldn't even get a good buzz going.
After they left Char in Minot, they continued on their way. With only one other major stop to try to get tire chains put on to help manage with the snow in the mountains, they arrived in one piece at the Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, boo-boo" Rehab Center in lovely Idaho. By this time, Peg and Pip had pretty much had enough of each other. Peg let Pip outa the car, opened the trunk and threw her suitcase at her. With that, she peeled out (as much as you can on snow, anyway), and headed for the nearest Tastee Freeze located 20 miles down the road in Pocatello. She was ready then to Par-Tay! (You know those Tastee Freeze folks live on the wild side, even in Pocatello.)
We got a phone call from Pip when she arrived. Said she was ready to make a clean start, but was devastated that Tom Cruise was not there to welcome her. Evidently the Center is not run by Tom Cruise, he just pays the bills. Pip said that if she'd have known that, she'd have picked somewhere in the Caribbean with European guys running around the beach in Speedos to dry out. Sheesh, Pip. Cry me a river...........
During the trip, Sis kept in touch with the girls via cell phone. It was a bit coincidental that she had just taken a job as a researcher for Verizon. Every 20 minutes she'd call and say "Can you hear me now"?.
Unfortunately, Peg had Sprint for her cell carrier and anything outside of Poughkeepsie comes through garbled.
God bless her, Barb dipped into her jar which had the money she'd been saving to buy a new Harley (one with all the bells and whistles) and had given them money for gas and eats for their trip. Because Peg wanted to make good time getting there, they mainly ate at drive thru's.
They tended to frequent the White Castle Restaurants that were adjoined to Gas stations. There, they could get gas AND get gas. White Castle was Pip's favorite food joint. Peg- being the kind person she is- humored her.
The kind staff at the Cracker Barrel had all chipped in and bought a box of Moon Pies for the trip. They knew what a hard road this rehab stint was going to be and wanted to communicate their love. They even sent a to go order of luscious pinto beans. If that isn't love, I don't know what is.....
The girls were supposed to meet up along the way with Char for supper one night. Char was flying into Minot for the World Finals of Greased Pig Wrestling. Now this was THE competition that all GPW's (greased pig wrestlers) longed to qualify for. Char had only taken up this hobby in July of '08 when she saw it as the Main Event in the grandstand at the County Fair. It was love at first sight, and she hasn't looked back since. Luckily, Char, being the quick study that she is, took to GPW like a duck to water. She was able to qualify for the '09 Finals and Minot had quickly become a reality.
They were able to meet up at a Weeny Joint close to the South Side American Legion, where the GPW Finals were being held. This was the first real "sit down" meal of the trip. Peg and Char enjoyed a bit of conversation, while Pip slipped out to the 7-Eleven on the next block for a new bottle of cough syrup and a bag of Ricolas.
In a few minutes she was back, but ticked off in a big way. Seems all the 7-Eleven had was Pediacare Cough and Cold and Halls Honey and Lemon cough drops. She said she had to buy 2 of each because otherwise she wouldn't even get a good buzz going.
After they left Char in Minot, they continued on their way. With only one other major stop to try to get tire chains put on to help manage with the snow in the mountains, they arrived in one piece at the Tom Cruise Scientology Cloistered Commune "You can't get no cough syrup here, boo-boo" Rehab Center in lovely Idaho. By this time, Peg and Pip had pretty much had enough of each other. Peg let Pip outa the car, opened the trunk and threw her suitcase at her. With that, she peeled out (as much as you can on snow, anyway), and headed for the nearest Tastee Freeze located 20 miles down the road in Pocatello. She was ready then to Par-Tay! (You know those Tastee Freeze folks live on the wild side, even in Pocatello.)
We got a phone call from Pip when she arrived. Said she was ready to make a clean start, but was devastated that Tom Cruise was not there to welcome her. Evidently the Center is not run by Tom Cruise, he just pays the bills. Pip said that if she'd have known that, she'd have picked somewhere in the Caribbean with European guys running around the beach in Speedos to dry out. Sheesh, Pip. Cry me a river...........
Girls' Night Out. Medical Musings.... November 21, 2009
Yessir, Thursday was GNO again. With all us sisters in attendance, we were once again escorted to the round table up front of the non-smoking section. The one underneath the Grape Nehi sign. Being in a somewhat jocular mood due to the abundance of sweet tea, the conversation went from who had the latest colonoscopy to Peg's sinus polyps. Then Char talked about being cursed with the abundance of ear hair that had been handed down for generations in our family. She griped about how she either had to use that little "weed-whip" that you use to yank nose and ear hairs, or had to go see her hair dresser, Rhoda to give her ears a trim in between hair cuts. She really hates to use the weed whip, as it works by ripping out the hairs by the roots. Rhoda is the preferred method, though she did ram the scissor point into the tender ear flesh when Char sneezed once. Char forgave her for that, but withheld her tip that day. Trust me, I'd never withhold a tip from MY hairdresser. Not if you're gonna let them cut you hair again. They could get a bit vengeful and you could leave the shop with a reverse mohawk or the like. Now Rhoda loves the Lord and all, but you never know if withholding a tip might just give the Devil foothold enough for her to forget her commitment to the Almighty just for a second and get crazy with the clippers, and pray for forgiveness later.Just sayin......
Barb was having a conniption fit over her bunionectomy and the bill she got afterwards. Seems she thought her Blue Cross- Blue Shield 80/20 coverage would pay most of the bill and she'd only have to cough up a small amount. Turns out her agent had skipped town with all her premium money and had set up a nice , cozy little condo in Minneapolis with his third wife. Of course, this meant she had been uninsured all the while and had to pay the whole tab. She said if she'd have known that, she'd have skipped the surgery and continued wearing her 4 inch stillettos in a size 10 triple E and saved the cash. Now, I guess, she will live out the rest of her days paying 25 dollars a month to the surgery clinic for the doggone bunions.
Now with that, Pip, in a fit of the bawley-squallies, confessed that she thought she was ready to go into cough syrup rehab. We all gathered around her ( as good sisters do) gave her hugs for her tough decision. Pip has been on the cough syrup for about 9 years now, an until now would never admit she had a problem. She was blind to all the times we had to haul her out of pharmacies wailing and begging them to just spot her a bottle until payday. And the nights we got calls from places that complained she was curled up in the fetal position under the coatrack and would we PLEASE come get her. Hers is such a sad story. When she was in her 50's, she developed a little tickle in her throat and started with an occasional Robitussin. After awhile she was using every day. Then she progressed to Vick's Formula 44.
Sadly she has gone on to the hardcore- Delsym. Yeah, you heard right. That, and every once in awhile she'd pop a Ricola and she was more than outa control. She'd call people up after midnight crying and moaning about how she knew she was going down the wrong path but couldn't help herself. Personally, I had quit enabling her years ago, but we have a few bleeding hearts in amongst us and I feel they shoulda used tough love. Oh well. Hindsight's 20/20. They'll reap what they sow.
Peg was so kind as to offer to drive Pip in her 1965 Rambler to the chosen rehab place in a cloistered commune of Scientologists in Idaho. In the Boonies. Of course with them you won't get a bottle of cough syrup if you had pneumonia. I think she made the right decision.
Actually, that was just about all for our monthly medical reports. Oh, except for Sis. She said her hemorrhoids had flared up again, but she was keeping the symptoms at bay with mega doses of preparation H suppositories (not the cream).
Well, folks, that's about it. If you want to send Pip a letter of encouragement just e-mail her at
Pip_63@Scientologycloisteredcommune/coughsyrup. I'm sure she'll appreciate that her friends are loving her from afar............
Now with that, Pip, in a fit of the bawley-squallies, confessed that she thought she was ready to go into cough syrup rehab. We all gathered around her ( as good sisters do) gave her hugs for her tough decision. Pip has been on the cough syrup for about 9 years now, an until now would never admit she had a problem. She was blind to all the times we had to haul her out of pharmacies wailing and begging them to just spot her a bottle until payday. And the nights we got calls from places that complained she was curled up in the fetal position under the coatrack and would we PLEASE come get her. Hers is such a sad story. When she was in her 50's, she developed a little tickle in her throat and started with an occasional Robitussin. After awhile she was using every day. Then she progressed to Vick's Formula 44.
Sadly she has gone on to the hardcore- Delsym. Yeah, you heard right. That, and every once in awhile she'd pop a Ricola and she was more than outa control. She'd call people up after midnight crying and moaning about how she knew she was going down the wrong path but couldn't help herself. Personally, I had quit enabling her years ago, but we have a few bleeding hearts in amongst us and I feel they shoulda used tough love. Oh well. Hindsight's 20/20. They'll reap what they sow.
Peg was so kind as to offer to drive Pip in her 1965 Rambler to the chosen rehab place in a cloistered commune of Scientologists in Idaho. In the Boonies. Of course with them you won't get a bottle of cough syrup if you had pneumonia. I think she made the right decision.
Actually, that was just about all for our monthly medical reports. Oh, except for Sis. She said her hemorrhoids had flared up again, but she was keeping the symptoms at bay with mega doses of preparation H suppositories (not the cream).
Well, folks, that's about it. If you want to send Pip a letter of encouragement just e-mail her at
Pip_63@Scientologycloisteredcommune/coughsyrup. I'm sure she'll appreciate that her friends are loving her from afar............
Girls' Night Out for Dummies.....August 28, 2009
Well, folks. We did it. Yep, got out of Cracker Barrel relatively unscathed Thursday night. Don't know how we did it, But I think it's a first. Of course, all the troublemakers have taken a hike. Like the 72 year-old lady bouncer that used to be the WWE wrestler (back in the old days when it was the WWF)...Last I heard she moved to New York City. Heard through the Cracker Barrel Grapevine that she was an avid fan of the Apprentice and had the hots for Donald Trump. Said she wanted to run her long, airbrushed fingernails (with the tiny gunshot holes painted on them) Through his lovely locks. Did I mention that she's legally blind in one eye and can't see out of the other? She'd give Melania a run for her money if she had a touch up on her face lift and dyed her hair flaming red to match her red lipstick. But that's just my humble opinion.
Now about the ex-felon woman (and that's using the term "woman" loosely) that brought her gang o' female thugs to the Cracker Barrel and gave us the stinkeye as they were escorted by the lovely (again, loosely) dark-mustached hostess (Hey. I guess she can't help it. I hear it was due to her Armenian heritage) to the smoking section. After the cops hauled her and her band of large-muscled, hairy armpitted nasties off in the paddy wagon to the Lake County jail, I heard they busted out by slinging the toxic meatloaf served for lunch into the eyes of the guards, grabbed their keys, and made a run for it. Last I read in the paper they tried to escape to Canada via Lake Michigan in a cardboard refrigerator box and were never heard from again. Serves 'em right ( again, in my humble opinion). Either they made it or drowned trying. All's I know is that none of 'em washed up anywhere here on the shores 'tween here and Milwaukee.
I also heard through the CBG (Cracker Barrel Grapevine) That the heavy-set, hairy-moled midget (Yes, politically incorrect, but just deal with it) that served us on roller skates in the non-smoking section awhile back, drove her '53 Buick woodside station wagon all the way to Vegas on near-bald tires. I heard that they were retreads, but I can't confirm that information. Rumor is, she works in a breakfast diner by day, and at night dances in an all-midget girlie review at the "Sand Bar" till three in the morning (their time). Hey. I know I shouldn't judge how a person makes their living, but Holy Smokes, Batman , an all midget girlie review? Heck, she had thighs as big as telephone poles. PLUS, her water on the knee (which she got by waitressing on roller skates all those years) was not very flattering. Did I mention that her left big toe was hacked off as a youngster cutting wood for her MawMaw and makes it hard for her to balance in those 3 inch stilletto heels she dances in. She keeps crashing into the platinum blonde transvestite that dances next to her. Makes me wonder how many times that will happen before the platinum blonde and her throw down. Last time anybody messed with the blonde, they ended up with a Tidy Bowl swirlee from the nearest bathroom (Men's or ladies-I'm not quite sure).
For all those that have been wondering, Pip stilll fights the everyday battle with cough syrup (Vicks Formula 44. Talk about rotgut, would ya?). She's still in denial but she's a grown woman and will reap what she sows. It's really sad, seeing her in the corner in a fetal position, sucking her thumb and whining: "Please! Just one more slug! I promise it'll be my last!"
Char has taken up a new hobby. Saw it at the County Fair and was immediately enthralled. She spends every weekend at various rodeos in the Midwest wrestling and riding greased pigs. She's pretty good at it. Her personal preference is WD40 but some competitions use Crisco.
Well, that's all for now. I'm wore out and need to hit the sack. Stay tuned, kiddies.
Oh, no. Here we go again. Girls' Gone Wild at Girls' Night Out! May 3, 2009
Well, folks. We had the monthly "Girls night out" about two weeks ago. Honestly (or not), I've been too doggone traumatized to write about it till now. It was kinda sparse that night, as we were missing one of the dear sisters. Peg was out of the country, actually way out of the country in Tahiti. See, she always wanted to learn either to belly dance or do the hula and this opportunity just came up at the last minute so she went with a bunch of other "orthopedic shoe wearing" hula-ites. I think about 4 women and two men, although one of the men would really have to work at it much harder as he has a wooden leg and has a little trouble with balance. I hear he's also quite the womanizer and I told Peg to steer clear of him cause he's probably a heart breaker. We'll see if she listens to me. I don't know at this point. She can be quite the little hussy if she gets off away from family......
Anyhoo. We again decided on the Cracker Barrel as we found out the bouncer had quit. We hear she went back to wrestling full time. You know, in the new Geriatric Women's league of the WWE. I think she'll have a definite advantage over the other tough old broads. Now don't tell anyone this cause I heard it through the cashier and she could lose her job, AND this is illegal in WWE Geriatric League circles. Anyhoo, I hear she has a titanium hip. The way I hear it, it's kinda like a bionic hip. I'm keeping my lips sealed over it cause at 72, she's one of the younger participants and the older, wiser wrestlers usually have an advantage over the young-uns do to more experience in butt-whoopin's.
Well, back to the story. We marched in pleased as punch and holding our heads up real proud cause of our great southern Dutchman heritage. Our favorite hostess, the sweet little one with the dark uni-brow and ample facial hair bordering on a mustache, ( poor thing. I hear it's her Armenian heritage) seating us at our preferred table in the non-smoking section, of course. Our waitress was Leigh. She's been there for eons and was pretty good at her job. My schoolteacher-sisters had her many moons ago in class, and, God bless her, she's never held it against them. She even knows about Pip's fondness for "cough syrup" and turns a blind eye to it. "Service with a smile", that's what Leigh is. She's the only one that's ever volunteered to be our server. The only one not faking appendicitis or cowering in the kitchen under the canned tomatoes when we come in. The only thing is, I don't know HOW she does her job so well with working in the spiky heels she wears. Says they make her feel so feminine and makes her legs much shapelier. Trouble is, she has bilateral bunions as big as golfballs. Anyway, I digress.
Well, she took our orders and filled our glasses quite promptly. I did request that she only serve us two sweet teas apiece, then cut us off and serve only unsweetened or diet cola. She very graciously agreed. Each sister, in turn, started to fill the group in on what's been going on in our lives since the last GNO. We listened closely as Barb gave us the details of her latest colonoscopy. Pip was a little "out of it" as she'd had oral surgery that day. I don't think she realized it, but she kept leaking out the side of her mouth that had the tooth cut out. Honestly, I couldn't be sure if it was the anesthetic or the cough syrup making her drool. Maybe the combination...... Sis seemed a little irritable. OK, a LOT irritable.
I just chalked it up to irregularity and told her she should eat more fiber. She rudely shot back at me that it gives her gas and that just wouldn't do (her working with the public at the Family Express and all).
Hey, I was just giving my professional opinion.
We all talked bad about Peg. That's one of the rules of GNO--you don't show up and we can all dog you out. And we'll tell you we did.
Char was whining that she was hungry and that we didn't get our biscuits yet. Cry me a river, doggone it. My heart bleeds.
About that time, Leigh started bringing on the food. Pip always gets the lucious pinto beans. Today, though, she had to mash 'em up to be able to eat, as of course, she couldn't chew. I couldn't bring myself to tell her how they looked when she drooled them out. Sis got her usual meatloaf. Well, when Leigh set the entree down in front of her she had nothing short of a hissy fit! She got really rammy and got up in Leigh's face and said that it looked like the "dry, end nub" of the meatloaf, and she wasn't gonna have it. Leigh said she'd have the chef come out to talk to her about it. Leigh went to the kitchen and we heard a man's voice screamin' and a'beggin'. About that time, Sis got up and went into the kitchen herself. We heard shoutin' and a yellin'. Then a man's loud sobbing. I was so embarrassed. No man should sound that pitiful. Meanwhile, Leigh came out and refilled our glasses. And refilled our glasses. And refilled our glasses. I think she had forgotten the request about cuttin' off the sweet tea, or she was just being passive-aggressive. Anyway, we all were starting to feel mighty bold. Char, still ticked about the lack of biscuits, said that she was gonna go in and help Sis straighten out this mess. Well, shoot. There was NO WAY that fur was gonna fly and the rest of us not get to see it. Pip didn't make a move to get up. What with the sweet tea, anesthetic, and cough syrup, she had become one with her chair with her eyes half closed and a goofy, one sided grin on her face. Barb, still gloating in the satisfaction of a good colonoscopy report, decided to get in on it. 'Bout that time, the chef comes running out and attempts to make a getaway through the smoking section. You know. The door that says "Alarm will sound if door is opened". Well it was and it did. We were all in hot pursuit, but he was just too darn fast for us. Hopped into his '53 Buick "Woodie" station wagon ( quite the hot car. He just shouldn't have put spinners on it). He mashed the gas and was gone. Even though she couldn't catch him, Sis WAS able to spatter the passenger side wood panel with the end-nub meat loaf. That, at least, gave her a small sense of satisfaction. When we all returned to the table, Leigh was just comin' back outa the kitchen with a pitcher of tea. Unbeknownst to her, a newbie waitress had swept some spilled mac and cheese in a pile in the doorway of the kitchen and hadn't picked it up. Leigh and the pitcher went flying, spiky heels in the air. She came down on her boo-tay. She was really ticked that she had broken a heel. Last I heard, she was sueing Cracker Barrel for a new shoe wardrobe and hospital bills for "bilateral broken buttocks". I think we may start meeting at another joint next time. Just seems like the Cracker Barrel is just going downhill more and more........
Girls' gone wild. Girls' Night Out again! Saturday, March 28, 2009
Well. Girls' Night Out. Always fun to be back at the Cracker Barrel when we can sneak past the 72 yr old white-headed old lady bouncer ( who, BTW used to be a WWF wrestler when it used to be the WWF). Anyhoo. We were able to be seated because my middle sister, Peg, went in in a bear hat and large showy sunglasses (oh, and without her teeth) incognito to divert her attention. She was back in the clearance racks (a whopping 70% off some things!) and Peg kept asking her questions about the John Deere sweatshirts across the aisle (not on sale). We were able to be seated in the back (non-smoking section, of course) all the while this was going on. Finally the bouncer was able to brush her off cause she was getting a bit squeemish about getting spit on whenever Peg asked her a diversionary question. ( She's not so good at talking toothless). As she went in the back for more stock, Peg snuk to the table although she knocked over a kid in a rocker playing chess. (Only two stitches needed, we found out later).
This time, as in all others, we got a new waitress. Definitely new, as all the established ones won't wait on us anymore. Once is all each one'll do. I can't figure it out. Someone said they either hid in the kitchen under the canned tomatoes or faked appendicitis when we show up. Beats me. Now this one was more our style. She was a midget (not a politically correct term, but one nonetheless, cause I don't know the other). 'Bout as wide as she was tall, with thick "man" glasses and a hairy mole high up on her right cheek (her right, our left). Guess she thought she'd be pretty busy that night cause she was on roller skates. Ya know, the REAL ones with four wheels per skate. Not the new, goofy ones. Anyway, we saw her coming out of the kitchen like a bat after a mosquito. Scared the livin' snot outa all of us cause she came at us like a bowling ball toward the pins. Thank the Lord she was good at using the brakes on them things. Of course, we all ordered the sweet tea (except Pip. She's on the wagon and had a diet coke. I'm not really sure, though, but it looked like she was pouring a little something in it under the table. Said she had a bad cough and needed the cough syrup). I don't know, though. You know how those school teachers lie just to keep their sanity sometimes. Anyway, She was good to keep our glasses filled, as we're quite the thirsty bunch. We knew ,though, that there was gonna be trouble when we told her we all wanted SEPARATE tickets. You'da thought we asked for a jillion bucks. Let me tell ya. That's when all the yelling started. She started up with the attitude. She called us twelve-sandwich-eatin'-white-pimple-butt-egg-suckin'-sons of guns! Said she better get a darn good tip for doing that. I just flat-out told her that we'd tip her good. At least ten per cent if she gave us good service. She threw down her pencil and said, "Ten per cent!? Is that all? Then I just gave it to her straight. Told her I tithed ten per cent to the Lord, and NO WAY was I gonna give her a dime more than I gave Him. Honestly, folks, I'd had just enough sweet tea in me to make me THAT doggone bold. Now. All this before we even ordered our meals. Empty stomach. Lotsa Sweet tea= Trouble. She started up with the name calling. SHE started it, mind you. Told us how we we're no-good southern Dutchmen. Now mind you, our hometown is only 25 miles south of there, but we're a proud people. NO ONE talks to the Girls like that. NO ONE. That was just. about. it. Before another word was said, my sister, Sis, FLEW over the table at her with the loudest head-butt I ever heard. Knocked her clean outa one skate ( which flew into the smoking section underneath a high chair). Now, if you've never seen a heavy-set, fuming, hairy-moled midget hopping around on one skate, the other foot smooshing around unswept up mac and cheese, you haven't been out much. In the mean time, my sister Barb, (age 71, doesn't look a day over 70) Had swiped the pitcher of sweet tea and was keeping us stoked. Actually, she always was the trouble-maker of the family. Now, the family with the baby in the high chair from the smoking section came over with their dukes up. They were TICKED. The thought that someone had lost control of a skate and almost took out their precious little one was more than they could take. Their 9 year old daughter got brave and kicked out the skated foot of the midget who was still hopping around. Well at that point, the midget said that she gave up, and crawled back into the kitchen to put ice on the goose-egg that came up on her forehead. In the mean time, the "baby-family" went back to the smoking section to finish smoking and eat their cornbread (it's a shame to waste good cornbread). We finally got our order taken by the manager, who, BTW fired the HSFHMM (heavy set fuming hairy moled midget) on the spot cause he saw it all and how she instigated the whole thing by her greedy spirit. AND, to top it off, offered free dessert if we'd knock off the sweet tea for the rest of the meal. It was hard, but we thought free dessert was worth it. My sister Char ate two desserts. She ate Pip's, cause she'd been passed out in the corner (non-smoking section, of course) I think due to all the cough syrup.
This time, as in all others, we got a new waitress. Definitely new, as all the established ones won't wait on us anymore. Once is all each one'll do. I can't figure it out. Someone said they either hid in the kitchen under the canned tomatoes or faked appendicitis when we show up. Beats me. Now this one was more our style. She was a midget (not a politically correct term, but one nonetheless, cause I don't know the other). 'Bout as wide as she was tall, with thick "man" glasses and a hairy mole high up on her right cheek (her right, our left). Guess she thought she'd be pretty busy that night cause she was on roller skates. Ya know, the REAL ones with four wheels per skate. Not the new, goofy ones. Anyway, we saw her coming out of the kitchen like a bat after a mosquito. Scared the livin' snot outa all of us cause she came at us like a bowling ball toward the pins. Thank the Lord she was good at using the brakes on them things. Of course, we all ordered the sweet tea (except Pip. She's on the wagon and had a diet coke. I'm not really sure, though, but it looked like she was pouring a little something in it under the table. Said she had a bad cough and needed the cough syrup). I don't know, though. You know how those school teachers lie just to keep their sanity sometimes. Anyway, She was good to keep our glasses filled, as we're quite the thirsty bunch. We knew ,though, that there was gonna be trouble when we told her we all wanted SEPARATE tickets. You'da thought we asked for a jillion bucks. Let me tell ya. That's when all the yelling started. She started up with the attitude. She called us twelve-sandwich-eatin'-white-pimple-butt-egg-suckin'-sons of guns! Said she better get a darn good tip for doing that. I just flat-out told her that we'd tip her good. At least ten per cent if she gave us good service. She threw down her pencil and said, "Ten per cent!? Is that all? Then I just gave it to her straight. Told her I tithed ten per cent to the Lord, and NO WAY was I gonna give her a dime more than I gave Him. Honestly, folks, I'd had just enough sweet tea in me to make me THAT doggone bold. Now. All this before we even ordered our meals. Empty stomach. Lotsa Sweet tea= Trouble. She started up with the name calling. SHE started it, mind you. Told us how we we're no-good southern Dutchmen. Now mind you, our hometown is only 25 miles south of there, but we're a proud people. NO ONE talks to the Girls like that. NO ONE. That was just. about. it. Before another word was said, my sister, Sis, FLEW over the table at her with the loudest head-butt I ever heard. Knocked her clean outa one skate ( which flew into the smoking section underneath a high chair). Now, if you've never seen a heavy-set, fuming, hairy-moled midget hopping around on one skate, the other foot smooshing around unswept up mac and cheese, you haven't been out much. In the mean time, my sister Barb, (age 71, doesn't look a day over 70) Had swiped the pitcher of sweet tea and was keeping us stoked. Actually, she always was the trouble-maker of the family. Now, the family with the baby in the high chair from the smoking section came over with their dukes up. They were TICKED. The thought that someone had lost control of a skate and almost took out their precious little one was more than they could take. Their 9 year old daughter got brave and kicked out the skated foot of the midget who was still hopping around. Well at that point, the midget said that she gave up, and crawled back into the kitchen to put ice on the goose-egg that came up on her forehead. In the mean time, the "baby-family" went back to the smoking section to finish smoking and eat their cornbread (it's a shame to waste good cornbread). We finally got our order taken by the manager, who, BTW fired the HSFHMM (heavy set fuming hairy moled midget) on the spot cause he saw it all and how she instigated the whole thing by her greedy spirit. AND, to top it off, offered free dessert if we'd knock off the sweet tea for the rest of the meal. It was hard, but we thought free dessert was worth it. My sister Char ate two desserts. She ate Pip's, cause she'd been passed out in the corner (non-smoking section, of course) I think due to all the cough syrup.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Hey. I already watered my flowers today. Shut it off!
Man, was it a wild-eyed storm tonight! I was looking out the patio door and seeing the rain coming down in sheets. The wind was bending the trees and the sky was dark. All of a sudden. I got to thinking that I'm sure glad I'm saved. In case there's a tornado sneaking up on me, I got nothing to worry about. Especially since I have no basement. I do have a crawl space, but I'd rather be sucked up in the vortex of a twister than share time under my house with all them spiders. It's just not healthy. Anyway, I'm living to tell about it with no damage to life or limb. My trees are blowed bare, but I can deal. We didn't lose power, but I had the emergency candles out and the "flic your bic" lighter on stand-bye. The main disappointment in something like this is that I lost my satellite signal. Shoot fire! If I didn't have Twitter and Facebook and my macbook, I'd of gone bughouse with no Direct Tv. I did miss the newest episode of "The Little Couple". I was NOT happy. It couldn't even be recorded. Now what'll I watch tomorrow night?
Anyhoo, I'm not sure what I'll see when the sun comes up in the morning. Probably a lake in the back yard. If so, Mike'll be miffed (that's putting it kindly) that he'll have to spend a good part of his day pumping it out to the street. Which ticks off the next door neighbors. Boo hoo. My heart bleeds. They're not the ones under water here.
Ok, folks. I'm hitting the sack. My extra strength "Five Hour Energy" is wearing off, but I got my money's worth cause it lasted for 9 hours. (That's some good stuff if you tend to fall asleep driving in broad daylight, like I do). I'm gonna drag my sorry butt to bed, put in my earbuds, and listen to wind or rain or heaven knows what that's on my iPhone app to help me fall asleep. Or maybe I could leave them out and listen to the real thing. Yeah..that's it. G'nite folks. Zzzzzzzzzz.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Ok, let's get this show on the road.
Ok, folks. I decided to start writing down a few of my thoughts and muses. But first, I loaded a few of my GNO diary entries for you to check out. Seein' so's its 12:37 am and way past my bedtime (ok, so I had an afternoon nap.), the serious stuff will have to wait until I get some shut eye. And go to work tomorrow. So hang in and sooner or later I'll throw you a bone. Hopefully sooner. Dunno.
Cheers,
Terri
Help Me! Somebody Help Me!
BooHooHooHooo! *wailing and gnashing teeth* Where have I gone wrong as a mother? Why? Why? Whyyyyy? My son got a tattoo! I think I'll pause now and have a nervous breakdown. *tears streaming down face* I'm crawling in bed and going to stay there in a fetal position for weeks and possibly months. Son, after all I've taught you and all the threats that I've made. Still you do this! My heart is cracking in two. *Snubbing and slinging snot* Pray, saints!
The Girls and Surgery January 28, 2011
The mood was quite somber at the Cracker Barrel last night. Cis was sharing the new finding by her regular cardiologist that instead of the surgeon doing just an aneurismectomy, he took the liberty of doing a full heart transplant. It seems that the patient in the OR before her was scheduled for the transplant, but the surgeon cut the pipes too short and it didn't fit. It seems that since they hated to waste a perfectly good heart and Cis was getting her pipes reconstructed anyway, they cut her pipes a bit longer and made it fit. Later, she found out that in the previous surgery (it was rumored) that when the surgeon took the heart out of the cooler he accidently dropped the floppy little thing. The quick-moving OR nurse (she attributes this to her daily Zumba classes), made a dive for it and she was able to bat it into the air in a great save. It bounced off the assisting surgeon and hit the floor. The doc felt the "five-second rule" applied here because it was within the sterile field. The OR tech took it to the sink for a quick rinse off and it was as good as new. Back to the cooler it went to use in case there was a need. Honestly, if I was in that position I'd hate to waste a perfectly good heart, as well. It'd be a cryin' shame, in my professional opinion.
The group's next question was, "Will she sue"? "Would she demand an investigation and that his licence be suspended in the meantime"? Cis said she really saw no need as it seems the ticker was working quite well. Besides, the surgeon was very good looking and had a great bedside manner. It would be terrible to take a gifted surgeon like that out of circulation while he went through all that mess.
With this news, Cis began to understand the strange things she found happening since the surgery. I seemed she no longer had a love for chocolate, but now had strange cravings for Peking Duck. This definitely presents a problem as there is no where south of the River that serves it. Thus, when Pip takes her to her daily cardiac rehab in Valpo, they make a stop afterwards at the Dynasty Chinese Buffet. Since it's not served in the buffet, she has to order off the menu. Pip happens to like the variety on the buffet and eats that until she's comfortably satisfied.
Speaking of rehab, there was a mixup in the physician's order. She was first directed to what turned out to be Alcoholics Anonymous for rehab. Citing her feeling that, as she says, "Alcohol rehab is for quitters". She refused to go. The gaff was discovered at her first post op appointment and the proper rehab was ordered.
You'd probably say "all's well that ends well", but not Cis. It seems that her complaint (and the resulting somber mood) was because she was dissatisfied with the resulting 63" scar. Not the length, mind you, but she felt instead of being stapled from stem to stern they should have called in a plastic surgeon to use tiny sutures to close (Medicare pays for that). That way she wouldn't have a "Frankenstein-like" scar. Doggone it Cis. My heart bleeds. Shut up and eat your meatloaf. At least they closed you up.
The Girls' Annual Chrismas Letter December 19, 2010
Well folks, It's been quite an eventful year. The Girls have been busy with their family and friends and assorted activities. Hmmm. Where should I start?
Well, Char started a new career this fall. She was getting bored as a teacher and felt she needed to open herself up to new horizons. Seizing the rare opportunity to snap up this multi-talented SuperWoman, The Roselawn-Thayer Tabernacle Choir offered her big buckeroos to be their fearless leader. Never one to run in the face of a challenge (plus she could use the paycheck), she took the job. This gave her a chance to actually get to handle the conductor's little baton-thingy. This has always been a subject of fascination for her, since she played trombone in the DeMotte High School band.
If you'll remember, last year Char had that accident at the Greased Pig Nationals in beautiful Minot, ND. After hitting her head she suddenly took on a Tourette's-like verbalization of clucking and crowing like a chicken. Luckily the effects have subsided for most of the time except when under extreme times of stress. Pip shared with me in confidence that Char's been heard clucking soprano under her breath lately. Which is a big improvement as before she was a clucking contralto.
Pip? Well, Pip has taken up a new hobby since retiring from her job. She started making festive homemade candles out of ear wax. She loves the moldability of the substance and says that it is "eco-friendly" as well as clean burning. She accepts donations and will even pay for shipping (library rate) if you offer her your extra cerumen. She says the pungent aroma of the candles is reminiscent of the scent of the goat barn at the Jasper County Fair and evokes pleasant memories from her childhood. She won't, however accept wax from anyone west of the Continental Divide. There's been a known ear fungus there for years and people from over that way tend to give off spores. Researchers have tried to treat it for years and even the folks from The Society to Heal and Prevent Ear Boogers has given up on it.
Oh, on another note, if you donate, please make sure it is hair-free. If you have have copious ear hair, it's best you keep your cerumen to yourself, thank you.
Cis has had a tough time this year. She was jailed after a fight at the American Legion Friday Night Fish Fry. It seems her and some of the kitchen help got their noses out of joint over God-knows-what. One of the cooks took a large, battered filet and whacked her square across the gums with it, breaking her front tooth. Well now, nobody whacks Cis in the bazoo with a wet fish. NOBODY. The war was on. She let her temper get the best of her and she took a flying leap over the coleslaw at the guy. She managed to get him by the hair of the head and face plant his sorry mug into the egg and milk wash. It was said the guy almost sneezed himself to death after she mashed his face into the corn meal (white, not yellow) coating. After she finished with the guy, he was begging for mercy and crying for his maw-maw. It was rumored later that the egg, milk, and cornmeal facial left his skin lustrous and smooth. Cis however, sued him for injuries received and got a new front gold tooth out of the deal. She did, however, have to wear an ankle bracelet for the next six months. She said it was a small price to pay for the satisfaction of putting that sorry sucker in his place. Plus she was able to start her own skin care line that she sells online.
This year, Peg decided to embrace an alternative lifestyle. She left town and moved to the outskirts of Milwaukee and set up a pup tent over by the West Allis dump. She wanted to leave the rat race behind and take her cats with her. She hauled off in her trusty 1960 Pontiac Tempest with a bedroll, a frying pan, matches and 23 cats. And the tent. Big enough for two people (and that's stretching it). She moved over by the dump because, in her reasoning, (faulty if you ask me but who am I to judge?) she felt people would stay away due to the acrid stench. She also thought her cats could forage to supplement their diet of cooked pig brains and Morroccan couscous. Being out in the great outdoors a litter box would not be needed cause they could do their deed in the dirt just like she would.
She made mention that she had saved up most of her past earnings so she'd have plenty of sustenance while she lived out yonder. Honestly, just 'tween me and you, Peg had always lived simply. She was a "no frills" kinda gal. The only times that she got a little lavish was when she got a little too much liquor in her (on just a few holidays a year, such as International Show Me Your Mole Day, Ex-Lax Awareness Day, Mondays, and the 14th of every other month). Then she'd take out her charge card (Visa) and go nuts. The upside to these little jaunts was that she accrued air miles from the card at an astonishing rate. The downside is, she'd have to hope she kept all the receipts so she knew where all the merchandise was bought. That way she could take it all back the next day.
Peg stayed in her outside paradise only a week and a half. That's when her daughter, Lori, kidnapped her and took her home. It seems Peg had been severely under medicated for some time and we just attributed it to the "late-in-life crazies". I guess instead it was the "forgot to take my meds crazies". So, that was the high point for Peg this year.
Barb had an exciting year (for an old lady). Marv finally talked her into them getting a brand-spankin' new motorcycle. and not just any ol' cycle, but a black crotch rocket with orange flames down the sides. Once the decision was made, Barb embraced it whole-hog, like a crazy woman. They went out and got matching leathers. Next they joined a motorcycle gang. No, not like Hells Angels. It was a senior citizen gang sponsored by Butch's Funeral Service and Assisted Living Facility. It was so cute to see Barb and Marv getting excited about the outings. They made advance plans for Bike Weeks in Daytona and Sturgis. A little birdie told me they enjoyed the vino just a little too much at a weinie roast in Sturgis. Ended up going to bed at 6:30 that night. A whole 2 hours earlier than normal. Life in the fast lane proved a bit much for them on that trip.
At Daytona, they made the decision to get their first ink. And second, third, and fourth. I've always heard it's addicting. They certainly proved that right. Barb got a tramp stamp first thing. It was a Colt 45 surrounded by the words "Obey yo Mama". Then they both got tatts of each other's faces that covered the entire surface of their backs. Marv's pic on Barb's back was spot on. Marv wasn't so lucky. Marv's tattoo "artist" this time around couldn't draw his way out of out of a paper bag. I hate to say it, but if I'm lying, I'm dyin'. PLUS he was blind in one eye and couldn't see out the other. The tattoo of "Barb" on Marv's back turned out looking like Janet Reno without her glasses. Oh, and his pen slipped and gave her a scar above her left cheek. (He said no one would notice.) Barb didn't want Marv to be disappointed at the NOW PERMANENT HUGE UGLY tattoo on his back so she told everyone to remark to him how wonderful it was and what a great likeness of her it is. He probably won't ever see it since it's on his back anyway. That is, unless some nimnul takes a pic and shows him. Barb DID take the "artist" outside and told him she'd put a contract out on him if he charged her for that crapfest of a thing. He had heard she was from the Chicago area. She kinda gave him the impression (ok, she lied) that she was Rahm Emmanuel's mother and could have his whole shop blown to smithereens tomorrow. He said "N-n-n- nooooo ppprroblem, lady!" and excused himself to go to the bathroom...
So far, Marv hasn't got a clue, but Barb as put the kahbosh to any more tatts. Now then, don't a one of you be a moron and tell Marv about this, hear? She'll hunt you down like a beagle on a jackrabbit and knock you into next week. Plus, you'll be on Santa's Naughty List.
Family Reunion. No fatalities. July 26, 2010
Enjoyed our Misch Family (minus the Misch Family) Reunion. This is the first reunion the family has had in recent decades. About forty or so folks showed up at the DeMotte Outdoors Ballroom. The actual present day Misch family (all 71 of them) had a previous engagement. So, in true Misch fashion, we carried on without them.
Cousins came from far and near to celebrate our grand heritage. Before chowing down on the potluck, we all stood and did the Pledge of Allegience. Then the National Anthem was led by Rich ("Pipes") Hanley. There wasn't a dry eye as we remembered the Fallen Misch Soldiers. Then a reading detailing the research into the life of the oldest Misch soldier recollected was shared. Yes, Sergeant Boo Misch was indeed a hero in the Civil War. He had made a name as the man that liberated the cat shelter at Appomattox. Even John Smith, an avowed feline loather, shed a tear. The Lord's Prayer was then recited in unison.
It was finally time to dig into the luscious potluck spread before us. First ones in line were all the folks on Weight Watchers. They had saved up their points and were ready to dig in. Of course, they took advantage of all the low cal offerings and only filled their plates half full. Made them all look like they were following the plan. Then when everyone else was busy enjoying the Sauteed Brussels Sprouts, etc, they snuk back to the food and filled their plates. Many times. Same when it was time to hit the dessert table. "I'll just have a taste", one was heard saying. Then, of course, while everyone else was peacefully in a sugar coma, they hit the table hard, licking the serving spoons as they went, leaving only crumbs in their wake.
After the satisfied burps had died down from all those there at the reunion, a few souls chose to play corn hole. All was going well until the jocularity got outa hand. The way I hear it, Cindy Marvel got a lil crazy and went after Peg Nick to try to grab away the corn bag. Cindy tried to jump over the corn hole board and got her leg caught in the hole. They had to end up calling the paramedics who used the Jaws of Life to extract her. Though she was unhurt, she sustained a few scrapes and bruises.
Meanwhile, those in the DeMotte Outdoor Ballroom were jamming to the sounds coming from Shannon Mosier's convertible. It seems that Shannon is a rap fan and her subwoofer was cranked. Marv Daniels decided to try to break dance on a picnic table. While he was doing a head spin, he tilted slightly and got a big, honkin splinter in his ear lobe. The stabbing pain caused him to fall off and hit the seat head first. Although he wasn't knocked out cold, he was slightly goofy for awhile.
In the mean time, the neighbors called the Po Po about the noise. It seems they didn't like rap. Before the police arrived, Andy Lawyer tried to make nice with them by offering to switch over to Classic Rock. The neighbors refused and said only Country would satisfy them at those decibles. Aine Schultz stood up and yelled "This Misch may mash you into mush if you don't leave us be! We're not giving up our rap for you or anyone else!". With that, she threw egg salad at them, hitting the ol' lady square in the yapper. Then Leslie Lawyer did a flying head butt at the guy but missed and went flying into the bushes behind him.
By that time Mike Hanley got out the "big guns"...Ambrosia Salad. Lemme tell ya, at that point, all bets were off. Handfuls of Ambrosia were flying everywhere. Barb Daniels, the oldest of the clan kept running around and saying "How are we gonna clean up this mess"?!
At that point, the police arrived in the paddy wagon. The SWAT team was right after them, rounding up all the offenders flinging the salads. When they had finished, they checked out the food that was left. Noting their attention to the chicken wings and such, Barb asked them if they'd like to fix themselves a plate. Their weapons were set aside as they filled their plates. Lips a'smackin' and the sounds of "Mmmmmm" filled the air.
Cousins came from far and near to celebrate our grand heritage. Before chowing down on the potluck, we all stood and did the Pledge of Allegience. Then the National Anthem was led by Rich ("Pipes") Hanley. There wasn't a dry eye as we remembered the Fallen Misch Soldiers. Then a reading detailing the research into the life of the oldest Misch soldier recollected was shared. Yes, Sergeant Boo Misch was indeed a hero in the Civil War. He had made a name as the man that liberated the cat shelter at Appomattox. Even John Smith, an avowed feline loather, shed a tear. The Lord's Prayer was then recited in unison.
It was finally time to dig into the luscious potluck spread before us. First ones in line were all the folks on Weight Watchers. They had saved up their points and were ready to dig in. Of course, they took advantage of all the low cal offerings and only filled their plates half full. Made them all look like they were following the plan. Then when everyone else was busy enjoying the Sauteed Brussels Sprouts, etc, they snuk back to the food and filled their plates. Many times. Same when it was time to hit the dessert table. "I'll just have a taste", one was heard saying. Then, of course, while everyone else was peacefully in a sugar coma, they hit the table hard, licking the serving spoons as they went, leaving only crumbs in their wake.
After the satisfied burps had died down from all those there at the reunion, a few souls chose to play corn hole. All was going well until the jocularity got outa hand. The way I hear it, Cindy Marvel got a lil crazy and went after Peg Nick to try to grab away the corn bag. Cindy tried to jump over the corn hole board and got her leg caught in the hole. They had to end up calling the paramedics who used the Jaws of Life to extract her. Though she was unhurt, she sustained a few scrapes and bruises.
Meanwhile, those in the DeMotte Outdoor Ballroom were jamming to the sounds coming from Shannon Mosier's convertible. It seems that Shannon is a rap fan and her subwoofer was cranked. Marv Daniels decided to try to break dance on a picnic table. While he was doing a head spin, he tilted slightly and got a big, honkin splinter in his ear lobe. The stabbing pain caused him to fall off and hit the seat head first. Although he wasn't knocked out cold, he was slightly goofy for awhile.
In the mean time, the neighbors called the Po Po about the noise. It seems they didn't like rap. Before the police arrived, Andy Lawyer tried to make nice with them by offering to switch over to Classic Rock. The neighbors refused and said only Country would satisfy them at those decibles. Aine Schultz stood up and yelled "This Misch may mash you into mush if you don't leave us be! We're not giving up our rap for you or anyone else!". With that, she threw egg salad at them, hitting the ol' lady square in the yapper. Then Leslie Lawyer did a flying head butt at the guy but missed and went flying into the bushes behind him.
By that time Mike Hanley got out the "big guns"...Ambrosia Salad. Lemme tell ya, at that point, all bets were off. Handfuls of Ambrosia were flying everywhere. Barb Daniels, the oldest of the clan kept running around and saying "How are we gonna clean up this mess"?!
At that point, the police arrived in the paddy wagon. The SWAT team was right after them, rounding up all the offenders flinging the salads. When they had finished, they checked out the food that was left. Noting their attention to the chicken wings and such, Barb asked them if they'd like to fix themselves a plate. Their weapons were set aside as they filled their plates. Lips a'smackin' and the sounds of "Mmmmmm" filled the air.
While the officers were happily oblivious to all but the picnic fare, Gary Struble, (Alias "Bad Butch") snuk over to the paddy wagon and opened the door. Out jumped the naughty crew and at the behest and direction of Gayle Smith, crammed into the handicapped porta potty and remained still. Mike Hanley then rounded up the nasty cop-calling rap-hating neighbors and tied them hand and foot with duct tape (neon pink colored). In case they decided to start yelling for help or singing country songs, Mike covered their mouths with duct tape, as well. This time his choice was John Deere green tape. Then they were given the boot into the back of the paddy wagon. Unbeknownst to the Po-Po, the switcharoo was complete. After finishing their canned pop and taking one more for the road, they hopped into the front seat and were on their way to Rensselaer to the county jail. After they left, the door was opened to the porta potty and the occupants tumbled out. Some were coughing and some were wretching, but they were mostly ok. The main complainer was Dave Watson. It seems his position in the potty was squatting on the urinal. Apparently, it was quite uncomfortable and he got a toe cramp, which we found out later, took a day and a half to go away.
All in all, everyone was quite satisfied with the reunion. So much so, that it was voted to have another next year. Site to be announced later.
Back at the Cracker Barrel April 16, 2010
Howdy, y'all. Once again we met for a festive Girls' Night Out ( trademark) at the Cracker Barrel where they have a whopping 60% off all their hard to get rid of winter stock, including ALL Purdue garb. Of course, we went right for the grub, like always. Cis, with her comfortable meatloaf- freshly cut from the middle of the loaf. The kitchen knows better than to try giving her the dry end nub as you all know. Ever since she threw the last one at the escaping cook's Buick Wagon and shattered the back window, they even bake a fresh one at 4 o'clock on the 4th Thursday of every month to be served fresh in the 5 oclock feedbag. Char, feeling still a bit embarrased by her residual Tourette-like clucking and crowing, stayed at home and ate carryout breadsticks ( no cheese and spices) from the Pizza Hut. A faithful soul, she remains a regular customer there even though they had earlier been shut down for 2 weeks by the Health Department. She showed up one day at lunch and there was a sign on the door posted by the owner that said " Temporarily Closed Due to Sam and Ella." She thought they just took a vacation to the relatives in Cincinnatti. There were rumors flying around town about there being a kitchen- goober problem but she chalked it up to hearsay.
Anyhoo, Pip ordered the beef stew and corn bread and had skarfed it down before the last of us was served, which was quite rude, I thought. That was quite a change because since she was off the cough syrup she had a renewed interest in food. Honestly I hope she gets a renewed interest in buying larger clothes SOON.
Peg, I'm glad to say, was walking the straight and narrow, (right now anyway).
As far as we can tell she's been staying away from that wild "Tastee Freeze" crowd and going to church every Wednesday and Sunday. As far as the wacky tobacky, my hunch so far appears to be wrong. She totaled her Rambler, which devastated her pretty much. Due to immediate lack of funds, she attached a lawnmower engine ( Briggs and Stratton, of course,) to a bicycle and had quite a dandy mode of transportation. Not much to look at, but gets 230 miles to the gallon. Who knows, it might catch on.
Barb, still with oozing bunions, was quite jovial. She even decided to order off the breakfast menu as a special treat. She ordered the Belgian Waffle with sawdust gravy on it with whipped cream and two cherries. She asked for chocolate syrup to be served on the side. She had always been pretty finicky about her food, but swears that since she started taking saw palmetto, she is having weird cravings. She mentioned one of them was lite beer and chocolate tootsie pops. She said she stirs the beer with the pop until the pop is down to the chewy tootsie roll center. Then she sips the chocolate beer while eating the chewy center. Frankly, I don't see it myself. To each his own, I guess.
I asked her why she was so jocular tonight. She told me she had gotten her cataracts removed and could finally see good. I told her how happy I was for her. She said that there WAS a down side to the whole thing, though. I couldn't imagine what it could be. She mentioned that it made her see how many age spots and wrinkles she really has. Well, she is age 72 ( but doesn't look a day over 71). What does she want, anyway?
Anyhoo, Pip ordered the beef stew and corn bread and had skarfed it down before the last of us was served, which was quite rude, I thought. That was quite a change because since she was off the cough syrup she had a renewed interest in food. Honestly I hope she gets a renewed interest in buying larger clothes SOON.
Peg, I'm glad to say, was walking the straight and narrow, (right now anyway).
As far as we can tell she's been staying away from that wild "Tastee Freeze" crowd and going to church every Wednesday and Sunday. As far as the wacky tobacky, my hunch so far appears to be wrong. She totaled her Rambler, which devastated her pretty much. Due to immediate lack of funds, she attached a lawnmower engine ( Briggs and Stratton, of course,) to a bicycle and had quite a dandy mode of transportation. Not much to look at, but gets 230 miles to the gallon. Who knows, it might catch on.
Barb, still with oozing bunions, was quite jovial. She even decided to order off the breakfast menu as a special treat. She ordered the Belgian Waffle with sawdust gravy on it with whipped cream and two cherries. She asked for chocolate syrup to be served on the side. She had always been pretty finicky about her food, but swears that since she started taking saw palmetto, she is having weird cravings. She mentioned one of them was lite beer and chocolate tootsie pops. She said she stirs the beer with the pop until the pop is down to the chewy tootsie roll center. Then she sips the chocolate beer while eating the chewy center. Frankly, I don't see it myself. To each his own, I guess.
I asked her why she was so jocular tonight. She told me she had gotten her cataracts removed and could finally see good. I told her how happy I was for her. She said that there WAS a down side to the whole thing, though. I couldn't imagine what it could be. She mentioned that it made her see how many age spots and wrinkles she really has. Well, she is age 72 ( but doesn't look a day over 71). What does she want, anyway?
I am SOOOO not happy.
Tonight I let Mike take my car to jail, and Dan let me take his car over to the park to practice my couch to 5 K stuff. The time passed uneventfully enough and I went back to the car to unlock it and go to run a few errands. When I left the car I remembered to make sure every door was locked, as I had my purse inside. When I got the key out to leave, I proceeded to unlock the car...or so I thought. The key turned, but the dang thing wouldn't unlock. Tried the other door- same thing.
OK. I call Dan up on the phone and asked which of the keys on his ring was the "unlocker" key. He said " Mom, there is none. I never lock my car." I said,"Well I did and now I need to get in." MOM,
WHY DID YOU LOCK THE CAR??!!!! 'Cause Dan, My purse is in it, and besides, this IS NW Indiana.... "@#$#% !!!!!! Mom, the car doesn't' unlock! Now you'll have to open the trunk, crawl in it and push down the back seat. Then you crawl through and unlock it." Great.
So I open the trunk and crawled in, taking a careful look around for smart aleck teenage boys that might think it's funny to shut the lid and lock me in. I pushed the seat forward and it was loose, EXCEPT the left corner and it wouldn't budge. I pushed and I kicked, but that sucker was tight as a tick on a dog's ear. Meanwhile, there were several cars coming and going watching this large, 54 year-old grandma climbing into a car trunk and thrashing around. Do you think one stopped to asked what the heck I was doing? Not so, Grasshopper. I had quite a time getting back out, as my legs had seized up on me because of my running. I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP.
I thought that it was a good thing I wasn't laying in the road with a broken hip or something cause at the rate this whole thing was going, nobody'd stop long enough to kick me to the curb.
Doggone it, there wasn't even a Boy Scout for miles as far as I could tell.
OK. So I called Dan to come and help a sistah out. He said, "MOM! @#$%&*$@#!!! I can't come now! The White Sox are on! "Dan, please! I can't get this thing open..." (More loud cursing heard). OK, I'll be there! Meanwhile this short, rotund guy with a baseball cap poorly covering his bald spot stood a few cars away watching the whole thing. JUST STANDING THERE!!! I wanted to kindly KNOCK HIM INTO NEXT WEEK, but I held my piece. From the way he looked, I knew his name had to be Peanut or Slim or Bubba. ( Ok, I know that comment wasn't nice, and yes, my Mama raised me better than that.)
Dan drives up with then roared away. Not a word was said.
Well, I went on to the grocery store and as I got out, you can BET I went to each door and made sure they were ALL unlocked.
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