Monday, December 21, 2009

Lets rub eyes like the Eskimos

"Lets rub eyes like the Eskimos"

This is a statement from my double eye/ear infected husband; also known as the gift that keeps on giving. What more could a girl ask for?

Buzz has been down with this cold for over a week and I've been frantic trying to stay un-infected. He has his own silverware, towels, and dishes. I have an anti-bac station set up in front of the bathroom door. I use my shirttail to open doors and turn on taps, and I still had a gummy eye yesterday. aarrgghh.

I've decided to cook the turkey on Christmas eve this year, it's just us four, hopefully that'll leave Christmas day for vegging and watching Sons of Anarchy, consuming salted snacks and drinking beer. All favorite things of mine.

Booker Todd is so spoiled, he starts staring at us around three thirty. He wants his supper, or a chewy stick. He puts his head on your arm or in your lap and works the eyebrows. We of course give him treats, so this reinforces the bumming behaviour. sheesh. The Dog whisperer would be horrified.

Sad about Brittany Murphy, she looked awfully thin. Speculation abounds in the media, eating disorders and drugs seem to be the most prominent, I wish they'd just do the responsible thing and wait for the autopsy. CNN is really getting trashy now, I noticed it when Anna Nicole Smith died. Drives me nuts, yes yes I know I can turn it off, but I'm a news hound always have been.

Speaking of inappropriate, I wonder how long Michael Jacksons' family are going to live off his corpse. These people are beyond ghoulish, and should be ashamed of themselves. They've had no career the last 20 years or so. bah

I love the new Stephen Seagal show on A&E, I really shouldn't, but I do...hehe Bunch of overweight deputies running around the Parish.

I read Roadside Crosses by Jeffrey Deaver and I loved it. Uber bloggers and gamers. Did you see that story on the news about the guy in Japan who married an avatar? Talk about synthetic and real world blurring. Ass, he says he won't date/marry a real girl because it would be unfaithful to his electronic wife. Like he has a shot anyway.

A couple things happened this week from the old *bike* friends in Victoria. I am not impressed, but then again only one thing was directed at me and and I think I'm better off without that person in my life. Finally. The other thing was indirect and I have too much respect for a good lady to hash it out in here. Sorry for being cryptic.

I'm already pale and flubbery. How'd that happen so soon? Can't be the food, no that ain't it...

Thursday, December 17, 2009

Rememberance of a life cut too short

Ellen Goldie Dougan Passed away peacefully on Friday, the 19th of December at her home in Port Alberni with family by her side. At the age of 49, Ellen is predeceased by her father, William Harold Dougan, and survived by her mother, Ada Dougan, her sisters, Kathleen, Patricia, Dixie, as well as many nieces and nephews. Ellen was very close to her family and friends, caring for them all greatly. Ellen was a kind and generous person who loved being involved in her community as well as being a part of the Restorative Justice Society in Ucluelet and running the PAWS Society on the West Coast for many years. Ellen also worked for the School District #70, Pacific Rim National Park, and The Place T.V. Ellen will be remembered always for her great sense of humour, her ambition, her generous spirit and the love that she had for animals. It is Ellen's wish to remind people to be gentle and kind to their animals and to keep them safe! By Ellen's request, no service will be held. In lieu of flowers, donations in Ellen's memory may be made to the BCSPCA, 4936 Broughton St., Port Alberni, B.C. V9Y 7L9. Condolences may be forwarded to the family at Chapel of Memories entrusted with arrangements .
I miss you dearly my friend.

I wrote this last year in my other Blog.

We lost Ellen yesterday morning. I just found out, her Mom needed to process the news, and get home. I'm so damn sad, why is it always the people who try so hard and succeed at being good, lawfully and morally, who go so young?

I have a ton of good memories, some sad memories, but mostly, maybe it's the way I process things, slapstick memories. I laughed like a hyena most days I was with Ellen. She cracked me up, some of you may be thinking that's not so hard to do, she had the knack.

One memory I cherish is the time we rescued Newman (The Dullard) and 5 other kittens. Ellen lived in a neighborhood rife with wild cats, the old Lady two houses over had an unfixed male, and same with the house right next door. She was in cat heaven, for anyone else they'd complain and maybe poison them or trap them. Ellen named them, fed them, gave them medicine and was a one Woman show for having them caught and fixed.

We were having coffee one June afternoon, we could hear pitiful mewing, Ellen was pacing and she says to me "There's new kittens two doors over, let's go get them." I told her "You slipped a cog Girlfriend, they're in the Old Lady's basement." "The door is open, they need help." she told me. "They're infected and dirty and I ain't touching the bloody things!" I was firm.

Two minutes later there we are,(did I mention Ellen was very persuasive?) in yellow kitchen gloves, shorts and sandals. Ellen yells out "Go." and we're off, jump the first fence, no mean feat for me, scurry across the yard, leap the ditch, jump the next fence, by now we're laughing like maniacs, into the basement, start grabbing kittens and stuffing them in our pockets. "Go!!" she screams again and we're off. We're laughing so hard by now and one kitten is caught in Ellen's cleavage. We barely make it over the fences, then up her stairs to the deck. We're bent over laughing so hard that I couldn't exhale. We see the Old Lady come out on her back porch, Ellens gasping and trying to say ssshhh while the one cat is crawling out her top. Then the Old Lady says "Is there anybody there?" I, to this day have never laughed so hard in my life. Cats everywhere, the damn gloves, Ellen's skinny legs. I was gone for a good 10 minutes.

When I got the call this afternoon, Jackie, Johnny and their 6 year old son Jack were visiting. I went into the bedroom to better hear the call, Jackie came with me and held my hand, she got up to go into the livingroom, little Jack came in and crawled on my lap and gave me the biggest hug. What a sweet boy.

I'm bereft. I need to go process.

R.I.P My dear friend.


And this:

All things Winnie the Pooh
I was just scrolling through the sat guide and I noticed that CBC is having the Winnie the Pooh Christmas special tonight. Well I've been bawling for the last 20 minutes. Ellen, God keep her, was the ultimate Pooh fan. Over the years she was so easy to shop for. Anything and everything Winnie she had. Her bathroom was a shrine. Towels, figurines, bath mats, wall hangings, soap dishes, glasses, toothbrush holder, decals in the tub, you get the picture. I bought her a clear plastic pooh handbag for a quarter at a garage sale we were at. You'd have thought I gifted her with a Faberge egg. She was so damn happy.

I just went to my cupboard and got her Pooh mug out. Thing was dusty, breaks my heart. She had a bunny mug for me at her place, and I had the Pooh mug for her here. She bought me so much bunny paraphanalia over the years, "It's not too expensive if it fits the collection." she'd say.

I remember a couple years ago, Pat was in town, I hadn't seen her for a few months it was July around Ellen's birthday so we decided to have a combined birthday party. Ellen was at work so Pat and I went to Canadian Tire and bought her an hibachi for her deck. We bought coals and fire starter, we went to Safeway and bought potato salad, garlic bread and ribs. We were gonna feast. After two hours, being the rocket doctors that we are we finally put the damn BBQ together. We were kind of tipsy by then. We started the coals and went inside to get the meat ready. I'm a great marinator/spicer, but Ellen only had salt and pepper, some ketchup and a drop of mustard. hehe. Ellen didn't believe in spices, salt and pepper was good enough for the likes of her thankyou very much. After some trial I had the meat ready to go.

About a half hour later she came home. We're really tipsy at this point and both yell out SURPRISE!!! We bought you a BBQ! Totally deadpan she says "I know, the whole house is filled with smoke." Then she say's "The handles are on upside down." We laughed for a long time.

Another great day. The day after we went to the lake, Pat, Dave and Rob were camping. We took a couple beer and went to swim. Ellen wouldn't get in the water, she was adamant. "I'll get swimmers itch." "Oh you big baby!" We swam for an hour or so and went back to the campsite for supper. The next day Ellen calls, "Do you have swimmers itch?" "No" I replied. "Well I do!" She had it on her ankles and feet from wading. The rest of us were fine. Luck of the draw.

Ellen's last man was Martin, they were a striking couple, they both had waist length blond hair and were fun all rolled up in a tight package. After they parted ways the big joke was Ellen saying "I need a cowboy!" I'd reply, "Don't touch her, she might go off." After she bought her house she still *needed* a cowboy, but one that could fix the plumbing and the wiring, she'd be gentle, just use him 'til he did the work, then move on.

We'd party late and the next day Ellen would have her sure fire hangover cure. Luke warm (Campbells) cream of mushroom soup. Ugh. You have to remember that Ukee has no Rotten Ronnies.

I'm so going to miss her.

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Ruby, reading, red hands, and time capsules.

I'm all about discovering some new and wonderful thing about Ruby every day. She's a complicated girl, but usually lets me play with her and never loses her cool. I love my new lap top.

I've read the new Stephen King book "Under the Dome." I loved it, the best one since "Lisey's Story." I'm 3/4's of the way through Dean Koontz's "Breathless." All I can say about this book is it's too short. This man gets better with age, one of my favorites. I absolutely loved the third installment of Jack Whyte's Templar series. I teared up at the ending. Excellent series.

My hands are chapped, same with my face and lips. My hair is poker straight and fly away. Gotta love the cold weather. I keep zapping the cats, and BT to a lesser degree. I managed to haul in some bunnies today, 20 or so, but had an unfortunate mishap and now one of them is headless and stuck in the frozen planter, the head however is in a bag......da da da.

Had kind of a neat thing happen today. I was reading the Province and saw an article on a Time Capsule in Prince Rupert. The thing was buried/cemented in, on July 23rd of 1971. The powers that be never put in a marker or anything and couldn't locate it for the great opening on March 2010. (P.R's 100th B-day) I remembered that Buzz was there, and that we had a photo from the paper. We dug it out of the hope chest and Buzz called the City Hall to tell them what he remembered of the location and that there's a distinctive totem pole in the background. They're going to hit the archives.

The joints are still making themselves known and like to shout a few times a day. Such assbags. I can only hope it stays at this level or gets completely better soon. Tree's up, cards sent, little tree outside decorated. Kids bought for, bring it on.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Cats, the other white meat

That about sums up the calibre of the conversation in the BFZ today. Don't we have fun? It was good to see the girls and just laugh about all things odd. When the end comes we all have our jobs, Marg prescriptions, Kim potable water, Jilly fuel, BT and I security. Then we eat the cats. BT is particularly happy about that one.

I got the cards done yesterday, all of them thank you very much, the tree is still in the box and
I've decided to just drop some snarled lights in the box and call it a day....hehe Done like uber Mom.

Haven't heard from the Boy for a couple days....hhhmmm. I'll have to eat the first 6 days of his advent calendar myself. (wouldn't want the chocolate to get stale) A good Mother wouldn't want him getting pukey. I'm all about the good mothering. I suffer.

The yard looks all blah to me. I still haven't hauled all the bunnies in for winter, a big job, really. There's a lot of frigging bunnies. Wooden, glass, rock, ceramic etc.... Gotta get on that before too long. Louie's broken bunny recovery home.

I may shop tomorrow, or not. I know what I need to buy, just lack the strength or the inclination. It's really not that late. Seems everyone rushes to have it *all* done by the first week in December. Sheesh, have a beer, read a book it'll get done, or not.

I received a nice chatty e-mail from my Moms cousin Susan, very much appreciated as I'm going through my *woe is me in pain all the time and my family is dead and the living ones are annoying* phase. Should last another 7 years or so, then I'll be good.

Time to chase the corpulent tabby cat around and around the house to snatch her up so she can pee. I really gotta cut back on all this exercise, wouldn't want to appear too manly to Buzz.

Friday, December 4, 2009

I did something right

last year, I actually bought Christmas cards on the 28th of December for 50% off. Who knew?
So apparently I have no excuse now. aarrgghh.
I had Buzz haul out my little tree, it sits forlorn and unassembled in it's box, it's insidious whispering is getting to me, "Make me pretty Mommy!" "Light me up!" "I love you, let me brighten up your life."

Still not sleeping, it's getting a little old. I quit the napping and any hint of caffeine after noonish. Still no joy. I never thought I'd miss the night drugs, big old flabby ass aside.

I ventured out of the house today for a whole hour. Whoopeeeee, all I have for my trouble is some groceries and a new knee ache. I have no idea why I'm anxious about being *ready* for Christmas, we've scaled back a lot and it's really not a lot of work. I guess it's all the uber Mommies on FB talking about all the baking and buying and decorating houses on the 1st of December. Makes me feel inadequate, so shaddup about it.

December 4th today. My nephew is 28, Buzz and I moved in together 29 years ago and it would have been my parents 50th anniversary. Kisses Mommy Ma'am and Daddy Sir.

The dog has developed a nervous gnawing thing on his right pork chop. I'm constantly yelling at him to leave it alone. Milly (best dog ever) had skin problems her whole life, plus she was allergic to fleas, so I'm concerned. BT hasn't any fleas (not for the big $$$ we paid) so maybe a hot spot or one of the cats got sick of being wrangled and bit him.

It was chilly today, but the sun was out and the prescription rebate came in so hello Christmas shopping, maybe, in a couple days, whatever.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

A little recreational battering

Here we go again, yet another famous family man accused in the tabloids of mowing someones lawn. Tiger, Tiger, Tiger. The legit media (hah) hasn't come right out and said what they really think/deduce, but they sure as Hell allude to it. Golf club, fight, other woman, etc.

The media has turned this incident into a three ring circus, they bad, Tiger bad, Mrs tiger really bad. Just think if it was the other way around. Mrs Tiger behind the wheel of a vehicle, scratched and battered (not from the accident) being hovered over by her husband with a golf club. There would be an uproar and rightfully so.

What do I think happened? I think the tabloids busted the story about Tiger and Ms. Uchitel. Tiger and Elin have a blow out, she slaps/scratches him about the head and shoulders, he takes off for the garage, she chases him with one of his clubs (maybe even connects) he gets in the car, backs into the hydrant, pulls out loses consciousness runs into the neighbors tree. Elin isn't done yet, she chases the car down and smashes the back window. Then *renders* first aid. yeah right, more like renders him unconscious.

So now Tiger is refusing to comment, he's cancelled all appearances until next year and he's paid a hefty fine of$164.00. Big deal. I think he needs to tell the truth, embarrassing or not and I think his wife should be charged with battery. Plus the media should back the Hell off.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Some days

I really wonder who or what I pissed off so damn much, to have to live like I do. Sure I'm a whiner and a complainer. You all know the myriad of auto immune diseases I suffer from, and have had to read over the years in this and other Blogs how they attack my day to day. How they affect my life. I always try to get out of bed, that may not sound like a big deal to you gentle reader, but let me tell you, some days it's all I can accomplish. Sure I may only get as far as the couch, but hey, props to me for getting that far.

I'm stuck again, every year is like this, not just at winter but at random times to keep me living the nightmare. I can recognize the signs, the body betrayal so I know when I'm going to flare,I've also Blogged about how I can do bupkiss about it. It's gonna attack come Hell or high with it.

I try, in my everyday to maintain the party line, I say platitudes to my family and friends, things like; "What doesn't kill me." or, "It's not as bad as last year." or, "I'll be fine as long as I don't give into it." or,"I have good days and bad days."

Well I have to say, "I've FUCKING had enough, I give, Uncle." What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this? Believe me, I've earned the right to rail and moan. I'm sick and bloody tired of making my pain easier on everyone else. I hurt. Since 1996, I've hurt. There's good days, to me a good day is a pain level of 5 with otc pain killers on board (6 or 8 extra strength tylenol or advil)
I repeat that's a good day. A bad day, I want to shoot myself, that's 4 or 5 T3's and 2 oxycodone, and the pain is an 8 still.

When a person is in that much pain, the little things aren't important. You don't give a flying fuck if the house is vacuumed, the dishes done, the bills paid. Who really cares? I find it hard to muster the enthusiasm for much. The fact that I can communicate with a handful of friends, is a miracle.

Take today for instance, Buzz was baptised. I make light of it but the fact that he and the Girl are Christians is just fair dinkum with me. I used to be, I still believe, although I can't reconcile a fair God with my last twenty years or so, that's my problem though. Anyway I went to church (I didn't blow up) to support my husband in this monumental life's journey he's embarked on, I even teared up. I managed to sit and shift for about 90 minutes or so, then the spasms started, excruciating. I got angry, what do I need to do?

I can't even sit for two hours without screaming from the pain. Is that fair? Do I need to sacrifice a cat? (goes to my angry God belief) I tell you I'm at my wits end; my emotional/physical well being and sense of humor have fled the building. I'm damn tired. I hate my puffy body, prednisone piggy, I hate that I can't do much. I hate trying to be positive. I hate getting out of bed, seriously what's the point? Maybe I should give into it and become a druggie or a lush.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Shots and aches

Well we're back after an unscheduled break. OWIE, had a real go of it this time, it started in my hands and randomly fired and attacked the rest of my joints, big and small. Finally it settled for good in my lower back, pitched a tent and stayed. (it's still here)

I thought I was going crazy there for a few days. Had my double flu shot on the 12th, although I registered some arm pain for a few days it was minor compared to my other pain. All in all a good time to get the shots I guess. I was miserable anyway. I took too much codeine and won't discuss the ramifications of that on here. Again, OWIE.

I'm typing on my new laptop; Buzz, after an annoying afternoon got me hooked up (or rather un-hooked) Lots to get used to as I'm not a geek; well ok I was in band and read a lot as a child, (I think that's more nerdy) but computers and their routers are pretty much beyond me. Technology and I, not a good match.

"Hi I'm Louie, I don't have a cell phone and I've never sent a text, ever."

I had to go and buy a wireless mouse, this pad thing is not for me, mouse good, pad bad.

So far I'm enjoying it without the work, I haven't looked at the text or at the disc on how to operate it, and I have a general idea about Windows 7 after some reading. It's more exciting to learn by trial and error for me. So far I haven't hurt it.

I miss the walks with the girls and dogs, hopefully I'll be able to join them again soon. BT alternates between heavy sighs and staring at me. He works the eyebrows but I'm onto his ways.

I am the proud Mother of three fat, fuzzy, and sluggish house cats. Claw is huge and pretty bitchy about it. *The Dullard* has found a way into the cellar by going under the back stairs and we have to free her a couple times a day. She's stopped getting on the roof at least. She has started (and Spud too) stealing food. Most notably the butter. I was always able to keep food on the counters and they'd never get into it, since Spud came there's a different dynamic I guess and they're trying to maintain their fighting weight.

My car was in the shop getting a little body work done and a new windshield, looks awesome now. They did a good job. It's been a wonderful stormy November so far, we've only lost power once for a few hours. I've been sitting in the BFZ with the wind and rain and being able to see the trees bend makes me glad to be alive. I always thought I was a summer person, but I have to say I like this too.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

The assembly

Good morning everyone, glad you could make it out of bed. First I'd like to start with the roll call.

Fuzzy incoherent mind (fibro fog)? HERE!

Lower back, hip pain, both sides? HERE!

Headache? HERE!

Intestinal disquietude? HERE!

Burning indigestion (Fibro gut)? HERE!

Inability to raise arms?......I said, inability to raise arms? Oh, there you are, you should have waved..sheesh.

Swollen, bruised hands and fingers? HERE!

Spasming left knee? HERE!

Aching right knee? HERE!

Swollen toes on left foot? HERE!

Alrighty then, you assembled make up the aching pile known as the body *Louie*. Your mission this rainy cold day, is to get the body cleaned. SILENCE!! This is not an option, this is a must do. The body is disgusting, the teeth are frightful, and don't get me started on how you've chosen to dress it.

We need to do this parts, really, the dog has taken to sleeping with the cats he's so traumatized, and Buzz keeps gagging. So get to it!

Meeting adjourned.

Thursday, November 5, 2009


Imagine all the people living life in peace You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will live as one. — John Lennon

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Autumn Dog.

New pics of my baby boy. I'll try to Blog tomorrow, too busy/lazy.

Friday, October 16, 2009

Booker Todd's walkies reports.

Today we had our 2nd walkies with two new members Nelly and Boo. We took the trail behind my house, it was in good repair with lots of twisties and a couple low branches.

I led ,followed closely by Boo with his human Marg. I was happy that Boo was able to control Marg when we passed two ladies Marg didn't snap at them, not once.We had an awkward moment when Nelly stuck her tongue in my humans mouth (gross) Nelly doesn't know where that mouth has been.

Bodie started things off by pooping in front of the house before we left, Buddy had some collar issues but Remi hung with him 'til they were fixed.I was told that I was speeding a bit and promise to hold back for the two old humans who brought up the rear.

We had a good tail wag, solved the booze accesability problem by knocking it onto the ground and suckered two cookies each from my human. All in all a good walkie.I sniff therefore you are.....

Booker Todd's walkies reports.

Sorry this is so late. I had my rough draft done but then it was my turn to wash the dishes (Claw dried) Then Grey's Anatomy came on and I had to go to bed right after.

There were three of us yesterday with our humans, Mom embarrassed me by taking me in her tacky red car and passing out her homemade cookies. (yuck) Bodie tried to choke one down to be polite but Buddy didn't care. Then she KISSED me in front of everyone. (double yuck)We all did poopies just to show our disdain.

We saw fishies spawning and we waded and got muddy (take that Mom)There were a lot of old humans perambulating and taking the air, and we saw one other dog (he was fat)Mom let me off my leash finally and I pretended to be a good Boy this time so she'll do it again, then I can make my move.

I wonder how she'd like something tight around her neck. Maybe if I had thumbs I'd wrap my paws around her nec................."Oh, hi Mommy!""What's that? I have to dry dishes? OK, just give me a minute to finish my walkies report. Well tell fat ass to just stop washing for two minutes!! I don't think I need to apologize, just look at her, she's immense, her gut drags on the floor."

"Alright, alright I'm sorry you're so fat Clawdette. Oh, bah Baby! Geez alright, I'm sssooooorrrryyyy! Mom! I just need another minu.....fine!"Well I have to go and dry dishes now, sorry for the short report. I wish I had thumbs, I'd wrap my paws around Clawdette's neck and squeeze.
I sniff therefore you are........

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Confessions of a book-a-holic

They (whoever the Hell they are) say that the first step is to admit that you have a problem. Well I'll grab a set, man up and say "I'm Louie and I have a problem."
I stand before you naked (well in the emotional sense) and admit that I need a book.

I miss the new book smell when you crack the spine, and the giddy thrill knowing that I'm the *first*. I will respect you in the morning and I will not use you. Sure I'll pass you on but only in the nicest sense.

The long weekend ,coupled with my cold and I'm totally surrounded by nothing to read. This NEVER happens to me. I'll admit I'm an addict, I'll be reading one and I'll have two or three on the bookshelf and be looking for my next one. I live to check my status on VIRL, "Have I moved up a slot?" "Will the bitch re-new?" aarrgghh

I can go without booze, smokes, food, total joy in my being (from Booker Todd) and sweet disdain from the cats, but not without a book. I eat with a book, I watch T.V. with a book, I potty with a book, I go to bed with a book, I'd even drive with a book if I could. I bring a book to the Dr's, any place where I might have to wait for a minute or two.

I read in the yard, in the living room , in the bedroom, in the bathroom, in the car, even in the kitchen. Now I'm bereft. NO FRIGGING BOOK TO READ!!! Perhaps you don't understand the implications of this, but suffice it to say, I may go mad......

Saturday, October 10, 2009

HFZ, Thanksgiving and Birthdays

I've been wandering around the house all day, I can't seem to settle on any one thing. I read a sentence, drop the book, I write a sentence, drop the pen. My coffee has gone cold twice and I've almost lost the fire in the woodstove.

I know I have mis-givings and I get moody and introspective around any family holiday, and then it dawns like a light; Mom's birthday is tomorrow. Crap. The old brain knew, the body knows ;I just somehow pushed it down.

I managed to get out of my funk this past week, S innocently asked last Sunday on Face Book "Who wants to go walkies?" Well BT and I did, we went Monday morning around the Dyke with five humans and four dogs. We went again on Wednesday on the log train trail with six humans and six dogs. It was nice to visit with friends I've woefully neglected these past couple years.

We started a FB page the HFZ (harness free zone) for the pups and their people. It's a take off on the BFZ I started years ago. We have pictures and video and it'll be nice to stay in touch through the page and the walks.

The Boy got penciled in at one of his jobs so it'll only be three of us for turkey on Monday, but that's ok, I'll make dog biscuits with the left overs (thanks for the recipe Drac) I'm actually almost souped out. I know, weird eh?

What am I thankful for? The usual, my kids #1, Buzz #1.1, friends that are getting medical care and some answers( finally) My Mom for putting up with *The Dad* long enough to have kids, and my critters, who oddly enough get me out of bed every morning.

Friday, October 9, 2009

Thursday, October 1, 2009


the act or fact of appearing, as to the eye or mind or before the public: the unannounced appearance of dinner guests; the last appearance of Caruso in Aïda; her first appearance at a stockholders' meeting.
the state, condition, manner, or style in which a person or object appears; outward look or aspect: a table of antique appearance; a man of noble appearance.
outward show or seeming; semblance: to avoid the appearance of coveting an honor.
Law. the coming into court of either party to a suit or action.
appearances, outward impressions, indications, or circumstances: By all appearances, he enjoyed himself.
Philosophy. the sensory, or phenomenal, aspect of existence to an observer.
Archaic. an apparition.—Idioms
keep up appearances, to maintain a public impression of decorum, prosperity, etc., despite reverses, unfavorable conditions, etc.: They tried to keep up appearances after losing all their money.

I watched MacKenzie Phillips last night on Larry King. After she answered all his questions forthwith and sincerely it appears that she was telling the truth. It appears that Papa John was a pretty lax Father in all things. He allowed her to hitch-hike and go to clubs when she was 14, she was offered a ride, took it and was raped. He gave her drugs, he had sex with her while outwardly appearing like a good old hippie.

MacKenzie on the other hand couldn't keep up appearances, she was fired (twice) by *One day at a time* for doing drugs, however the 2nd time she was caught Valerie Bertinelli was also doing drugs and based on her appearance (cute, innocent all American teen) she wasn't fired.

I have to commend MacKenzie for coming forward.

Take having Fibro for instance, I appear fine. No body parts falling off, no disfigurement, coughing, sneezing or bulbous lumps or rashes. People always assume I'm fine or faking because they say "Gee, you look good, you must be better!" Meanwhile under the outward appearance I'm a screaming, raging, achy, mess.

Same with serial rapists or pedophiles or wife(husband) murderers. You always hear from people (usually the Mother of the monster or the next door neighbor) "He/She was a model child."or "They were such quiet neighbors, we used to talk over the fence."

Take this Bishop Lahey for example, newly retired from Nova Scotia, entrusted with 15 million dollars to dole out to survivors of abuse perpetrated on kids by the Catholic Church. He was arrested yesterday for child pornography. He appeared to be a Grandfatherly, pious devout man, humbled by his responsibilities.

Roman Polanski is another example, he was charged and convicted of raping and sodomizing a minor in 1977. He pled guilty and scurried off to France before his sentencing. He appeared to be a young grieving widower. This case bugs me because CNN is continually saying "He has to come back to the States to face these charges of child rape." He already faced the charges, he was convicted, he needed to come back and receive his sentence and serve his time. He's already paid the Girl (she sued him) and she's publicly forgiven him.

I'm up in the air about flu shots too. They appear to help, we need them to get through this pandemic, but now the gov't is saying not to have your regular flu shot as it may up your percentage to get H1N1, but to have the H1N1 as soon as you can. aarrgg They appear to know what they're talking about, but they change their frigging advice every day. Apparently (this yesterday) seniors should have both.

I was watching CNN today and there was a fantastic story. This stranger/bystander entered a burning apartment building in the Bronx and pulled a trapped four year old boy out. He shielded him from smoke and sparks, got him a safe distance away and waited for the firemen. When they interviewed him I was shocked. He appeared to be a Goomba, right down to the gold jewellery and the accent, slicked back hair, and leather jacket. (I'm sure he was wearing a wire) Billy Cretan, you're a hero and thank you for not being what you appeared to be.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

Woodsmoke and stew.

I'm always surprised at this time of year how quickly it becomes fall. Bang, it's colder, windier, wetter. The trees are changing and losing their leaves. Two weeks ago I was optimistically dosing the pool and marveling at how hot it still was. Now I'm wondering who's at the switch.

There's still some beautiful sunny days, just not that choking heat. I couldn't conceive of wearing long pants or sleeves, let alone a coat or heaven forbid SOCKS, in July. I wondered if we'd ever need the woodstove or heater again.

Now I'm scrambling at the back of the closet looking for my sweaters and hoodies; those too small jeans that some sick puppy swapped for mine and the flannel jammies as opposed to the cotton ones.

I love fall, I love the undertones in the air, the smell of woodsmoke, the smell of the last of the roses and sweetpeas. I also love the rain, I know shaddup already but I do. I'm a creature from one of the wettest place in North America, and it ain't natural (in my view) to go months without it. Sure I'll be whining soon that all it does is rain, for now I love it.

I love that I can cook in the house (how uptown) I like to cook food that takes all day. Soups, stews, roasted meat, and I miss that comfort food in the summer. I like that I can have a fire in the yard, and in the woodstove. Nothing like woodheat for the joints; and again I'll be snivelling about the work and dirt involved before too long.

The snowball trees have changed, the maples are shedding, the flower bushes and gardens are more brown than purple, pink or orange, the pool is empty and there's a ton of stuff to put away for the winter. The cats are plumping up and getting puffy cheeks. I'm gonna put on long pants, socks and a coat and get out there, maybe I'll light a fire.......

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Stealth cleaning

In the 29 plus years that Buzz and I have co-habitated, he has either worked away from home for long periods, or worked shifts. In order to get any semblance of a clean house I've had to develop some unique skills, while he sleeps.

I can and have prepared holiday meals in complete silence, (Hell, we've even done Christmas in dead silence, opening gifts and all) I can sweep and scrub the floors, dust, polish, windex, fold, and straighten without so much as a creak or thump (except from my joints) I can practically lip read the t.v. and can, in a Uri Gellar like state will the phone to stop halfway through the first ring.

I have a weird ninja reflex that I can employ to catch a falling object and prevent a door from slamming, a dog from barking and a salesman from knocking on the door. The only things I'm unable to do in a quiet, stealthy manner are the dishes.

This task eludes me. No matter how careful I am the glasses tingle, the silverware clinks and the cupboard doors get away from me. The tap will scream, or I will when I cut or scald myself. Even the dish cloth is loud, the detergent bottle farts (yes it does) and I always drop a pot lid on the deck and it takes forever to quit wobbling.

So as a consequence I've always got dirty dishes........hehe That's my story, etc.

Monday, September 28, 2009


This is Tiger Lily, A.K.A. Clawdette. With one of her tennis balls.
Can you imagine how insufferable I'll be when I get GrandChildren? hehe

Friday, September 25, 2009

What pushes some one to react badly?

For me it's unfairness, toward me and my loved ones, or having to defend myself
for something I never said or did. To have to justify every opinion, or choice I make to try to live a better life and be an evolving entity.

That's one of the reasons I started another Blog. I'm tired of people calling me on everything I write in there. I'm tired of people misreading or misunderstanding what I write. I try to be clear, but I guess if you're not sitting in my chaotic head with me, you'll misconstrue some things.

I was going to put up a disclaimer in here, but decided why bother? People will read into my posts what they want, based on their relationship or lack thereof with me and mine. That's your right. Some people I've decided must have a guilty conscience, because lets face it, I've been pretty critical and called them on things in my other Blog, but only to stop or bring attention to the unfairness.

I'm also weary to the max with the few who claimed that they never read my Blog, when I see them logged in with their Delphi account. It's become a joke, "Look Buzz, so and so is in here not reading the Blog again!" Then a little later I'll go to their Blogs or web sites and find them waxing eloquent on the same damn topic. (sorry kb kinda said the same thing you did last week)

What pushes their buttons? What's the motivation, the goal, the aim, the purpose? What do they hope to achieve or attain by threatening to *beat* me up at the dance? Not just me either, but two other people.( Well, that's what I was told by four different people and e-mailed about. )Was it true? I guess it was to have so many people relay the same thing to me.

At first I laughed, then I got really angry, then I felt pity for the person who'd allow herself to go out in public and physically threaten a fat old broad like me. The thing is I didn't react in a like manner, I could have gone up to her in the brief time I saw her at the beer garden and smacked her a good one, but why? I can control myself, I was angry but I didn't let it show and I believe there's a time and place for everything, but never violence.

I know what it's like to have someone take away your options. For someone to physically pound you and I know how it made me feel. I would never strike another person except in self defense, ever.

The crux of the matter is that I had posted in my Blog that we were not going to the Toy-Run dance, and I know for a fact that she read it. I have her log in. Then to be overheard at the dance saying that I was scared, friendless and embarrassed. That's the reason I backed out of going. Is that true? I dunno but again that's what was relayed to me. So am I in fact stirring the pot? Am I in fact fanning the flames? I guess I am and the best thing to do would be to delete this post and carry on with my every day.

BUT!! I was threatened with violence by a person who has no reason as far as I can see. I haven't even laid eyes on this individual for over a year. I'm not going to pretend it never happened, there's a lot of that going on, I'm not going to give her a pass, it goes back to consequences and living with your choices and actions.

I'm done, and in the case of this person I'm telling it like I see it. Enough mollycoddling for someone who doesn't deserve it, or need it.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

You know

I could write this in serbian and put up a translation link....hehehe

I was ready to puke today when I saw MacKenzie Phillips talking about having sex with her Dad. She said at first she was passed out and came to with him doing the nasty, she was 18, then it became consensual for years afterward. The kicker was she wasn't a little defenseless girl and only ended it when she got pregnant. eewww.

So I wonder, is this her way of getting attention? Is this the way she wants to be remembered? Is this something that had to be done so she could heal? Did it really happen?

I know a woman who totally fabricated an incestuous relationship, made her Father out to be a monster and he didn't touch her, ever. She did it for the attention, and for shock value. That whole woe is me, protect me thing that I'd of quite readily smacked out of her.

In this case I think MacKenzie is telling the truth. I don't know why, but I do. She admitted to it being consensual and being fucked up on hard drugs, and that she ended it.

Kinda takes the joy out of California Dreamin' for me.

Well, this is awkward.

I was thinking that I needed a less popular place to vent. I've taken a lot of heat over the years for some of my posts on Delphi Blogs so here we are again.

You Guys were sent the link because I trust you all. Really, even you Bear. This is a pubic Blog so eventually it'll be out there, so don't feel like it has to be a state secret. I just need offa Delphi for now.
I may still Blog on that account, use both for now so don't be expecting any great profound posts. Unless you make them.
Love you all

Going to post some older stuff on this entry from previous blogs.

This is from 2008.

A random light

I saw the light up ahead, it flickered and looked all the more intense for the darkness that surrounded it.

I wondered what I should do. There's supposed to be nobody on this Island, save me. I wondered why after all this time I should see a light, a beacon in my darkness.

I'm afraid, I'm ecstatic, I'm expectant. Will I be able to go near the light? Announce my presence? Or, would I hunker down like the animal I've become; saying nothing, hoping it disappears and and leaves me to my life. However small and insignificant it's become, it's all I have that's mine, this life.

I thought back to my first days on this Island, time has since become meaningless. I fear all I remember is the day to day, the hardscrabble existence I have here on this Island. Try as I might, I cannot remember how long I've been here. Five years? Ten? More?

I wondered what I should do. Who or what is behind the light? Friend? Foe? Family? Are any of them still alive, five or ten years since I've been on this Island? Do they wonder about me? Where I went, how I'm doing? Do they even care?

The light has stopped pulsing it's now a constant brightness, I think I hear voices. Not the regular voices in my head, my constant companions, but new, stronger voices, coming from the light.

What is the light, I wondered, is it here to take me away? Is it here to end my time on the Island? To extinguish my light in order to shine brighter?

I've been crawling down the beach, nearing the light. It's no bigger, no brighter, it's just there; just ahead.

I think back to my first days on the Island, the pain, the uncertainty, the dreadful feelings of hope. It's wrong to have hope on this Island, there's nobody here, save me. Hope is for fools and dreamers, this Island doesn't allow dreams, or suffer fools.

I crawl and scuttle like a rat, a wild thing, crawling toward the light. I'm eager for the voices to separate themselves, to make sense.

Maybe they never will I thought. Maybe I can't understand anymore. Maybe what I think is only a made up shorthand in my head, just for this Island. Have I forgotten to understand? To speak? To be human? I'm frightened.

The surf is loud in my head, the night birds are screaming, the light is shining and I'm no longer human. I'm a creature of the Island, of the darkness, like a moth to a flame. I need to know what the light is. I need to see and hear and feel the light.

Finally, I'm close enough to reach out and touch the light. I realize that there are no longer any voices coming from the light. It's just me and the light on this Island. I stretch out my hands to touch the light, and it's gone. I leap up in a panic, I search frantically. but there's no light.

Was there ever a light? I must be crazy, too much time on the Island. Has it been five years? Ten? Longer? I cry and I curse the random light. The light that gave me hope, gave me fear, and a purpose for being on this Island, in this neverending darkness.

The Island doesn't allow hope, the Island doesn't allow dreams, the Island is me.

Another oldie.
Doubtful manor

Doubtful Manor
Have I ever told you about Doubtful Manor? This is a place that I use regularly. Like a time-share, only this is my unhappy place. When I lived in The Dad's home, I frequented Doubtful Manor a lot. I'd go there, 'cause I was fat, lazy and a blathering idiot. I'd go to Doubtful Manor, because I could be the person The Dad said I was.

Doubtful Manor is a sad place. The wiring flickers, the plumbing is old and I'm usually knee deep in shit. The carpets are stained, the floors warped, the roof leaks. Doubtful Manor is just good enough for a lazy, stupid, fat reject like me. In Doubtful Manor, every day is a bad hair day, every day the roaster is soaking in the sink. When I'm in Doubtful Manor, no one can reach me, no one comes to visit and no one calls. Total isolation, all the pain and remorse I can handle and then some.

I don't go to Doubtful Manor a lot these days. I only need to go there the odd time, the odd day. Well today I spent the afternoon there. Nothing has changed, the yard is still weedy and the cat box needs to be cleaned. I went to Doubtful Manor today because it's Friday April the 13th. The day The Dad was born. Usually I can see The Dad from the asbestos filled attic of Doubtful Manor. Not today though, he wasn't there.

Instead I saw a black cloud over a dear dear friend who is ill. Can I be the friend she needs? Can I be the friend that drops everything in a hearbeat and goes to her? Will I have the strength to hold her up when all she wants to do is fall? I think I can. Now from Doubtful Manor, I see my dear friend with her loved ones and family dancing under a rainbow. I can do this, she can do this, Doubtful Manor can bite me, and burn the hell down.