Is Anyone Out There?

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I am getting a little concerned because 20 posts ago, several people a day were either liking or joining my blog. No one has joined in about 2 weeks, and I am beginning think I pushed the wrong button, which I cannot find for the life of me.

If you see this, please leave me a comment. If you’ve stopped reading me, let me know why, so I can improved may page.


Yee Haw! I’ve Made it to the Big Leagues!

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They’re gonna put me in the movies,
They’re gonna make a big star out of me,
They’re gonna put me in the movies,
And all I gotta do is act naturally.

Oh wait. No movies, just FaceBook. I clicked a little button, that may or make it possible for my friends on FB to be able to see this blog.

I am not even sure this will work. I used to get likes on my posts all the time, and now I never get any, so I am thinking I pushed another little button, and now no one can see it.

Welcome FaceBook! This is just a little blog about my observations. I’ve tried to be my amusing self. If you can read this, I hope you like it.


Hey, Where’d I Go???

I’ve been stuck in a time warp continuum. I finally crawled out this morning. 

I had to take my daughter, Cupcake (gee, so not her real name) to the hospital Monday night. She got up out of bed when nature called, came back to her dark room, and the bed had moved! She walked away with a concussion, which is a lot better than it could be.

The funniest time Cupcake went to the ER was when she was nearly two. She and her sister Egg Roll were having dinner, and I was presiding. Cupcake talked mostly Baby Gibberish, and she started saying om! om! I thought she was brilliant! We were eating ham. Hers was chopped in little squares. As we ate, she became more upset, and started pointing at her nose. Shoot. Ah, There was indeed a pink piece of ham perfectly wedged up my little Cupcake’s nose. I tried  fingers and tweezers, but she really was having none of it.

I drove over to my friend’s house dropped off Egg Roll and went on to the ER. Just as we walked up to the desk to register, she sneezed, and out came the errant ham. 

I still wonder why it occurs to toddlers to shove food in places other than their mouths. 

Don’t worry; I”ll be back soon. 



It’s Spa Time!

skinny dipper
We finally filled the spa 4 weeks before we drive down to FL. Better late than never. I skinny dip. The problem with skinny dipping is our next door neighbor, we’ll call him The Idiot.
We have a very well-treed yard along the fence line, so I don’t have to worry about those four houses in the summer. I just bundle up and make a mad dash for the spa, stripping off the robe just as I slip in. This has resulted in me falling in, robe and all about six times. The problem is in the winter because there’s less trees, and with a full moon I could be seen. I solve this by walking out with every light off even in the spa, and get in. This has resulted in me tripping over everything in our screened porch, including a 15 pound gargoyle named Clyde.
The Idiot sneaks in our yard at night. I know this because twice he’s come right up to our screened porch (17 feet in to our yard) and whispered, “Hi Patty”. I told his wife he was an idiot and a freak.
Today we are hanging curtains so that Mr. Peepers can’t peep. If he comes all the way into the backyard, I’m getting a bb gun!

Sneaky Patty

So, Someone Stole My Mail Out of the Trash Today!

I came home from the doctor today, TBG meets me at the door and asks what I did with the trash from the garbage company. Hmmm. Yesterday, we threw out all of our old pool stuff including a 10 foot round pool, filters, et al. However, at the bottom of all this  was a bag of unwanted receipts, bills and mail. Sh*t. 

This is the SECOND TIME this has happened. The first time they took the can and all. The garbage company wanted to charge us $75 for a new can to replace the stolen one! We were able to get them to give one to us for free.

This time, just our trash was stolen.  We asked our neighbor if it ever happened to her, and she launched into a nightmare story where someone was able to get their social security numbers from their trash, then called them and said they were from the IRS, and told them they needed to pay $2,000! She called the police. 

Tomorrow we are getting a chain and a lock so TBG can drill a hole in Waste Management’s garbage can so we can insert a chain and a lock. Then we are chaining the can at the bottom to a concrete block. That might make them think twice about stealing our trash. 

My neighbor said I could take my trash to her house and shred it. We think she has our shredder anyway. Her house is such a mess, she’d never find ours, but they have a huge office one. I didn’t realize you can’t shred plastic envelopes. Whooops! I tried to pull all the plastic out of the teeth, hoping they won’t notice what I did. We shall see. 

Waste Management trash can

Time is Money

raspberriesOne of the side effects of going to Florida two or three times a year is the state of my garden. A few years ago I got the bright idea to plant several raspberry bushes. I even got the stakes and wire to keep them upright, although I never put those in.

At this point, the raspberries have exploded, along with my entire garden. Yesterday, my step-daughter did an excellent job weeding, so I asked if she’d cut back the raspberry bushes today. She said yes, and promptly went upstairs, put on her headphones, and zoned out.

No matter how I feel, those raspberries are bugging me, so I went out there and for over an hour and a half I ripped out the bushes, roots and all. TBG comes out and tells me to stop, that dear sd was going to do it. He wants her to make money.

She finally comes out two hours later, and seems peeved I ripped out the bushes. I tell her time is money, and the less work she does, the less she’s paid. She worked for 45 minutes, so I paid her $9.

She asked me what time is money meant. I think she knows now.



Timing is Everything

Hi Faithful Readers,


I was looking at my beloved neighbors’ grass yesterday, and I saw what appeared to be Japanese iris leaves. The neighbor and I were so excited! Just before I was able to dig it out, her dog Tucker walked over and baptized it. Shoot.

I thought about this iris all night. What color was it? When was our neighbor going to mow it to death? It had already been mowed down at least once, but luckily he doesn’t mow often. 

I thought about the fact Tucker peed on it. If I dug it up with my bare hands, I’d get it on me. 

I also thought about the fact I have cleaned up after Tucker for years, pee and all. In my better days, I walked him every day. Our walking schedule got erratic when we starting going to Florida more often.

I decided to save the plant for Tucker. Not really; I was saving that plant to be next to my Japanese irises in MY BACKYARD. 

I put on one of my six pairs of gardening gloves, grabbed a weed fork, made sure the neighbors were safely ensconced in their house, and started digging. 

You’re probably thinking why would someone with rheumatoid arthritis being trying to dig up this plant. It’s the way I am. I want something, I get it.. My husband came out to tell me I had the wrong tool. You’re telling me now???  I kept trying to rip this sucker out of the ground. Finally, it gave, and I fell back on my rear, plant in hand. I rinsed any traces of Tucker off the plant, and carefully deposited it in a pot. 🙂 


It’s Thursday, I’m in Delaware, and I Went to Class!

nappingHi Again,

I have blown off two of my summer classes this week. I honestly could not get out of bed for the other two. I missed my two favorite classes, but made it to the.gardening.class. again. 

It’s a weird class. The person who operates the DVD player (I won’t call her a prof or a teacher because she does nothing) simply shows us two videos from How to Grow Anything: Your Best Garden Ever. After the videos, she asks for questions, however, she does not answer them. There’s some guy in the front row who knows more than she does. 

I was late for this class, so I had to sit in the front row, about three feet from the screen. I was too close to wear my glasses, so I tried to watch as well as I could. Then, some little voice started saying, “Sleepy… you are getting sleepy…”  I’d rouse myself long enough to look around and show everyone I was awake. I’d look at the screen for a few minutes, and that little voice in my head kept whispering. 

Next, I started to do the head thing, where eventually your head falls backwards, and it startles you awake. I did that about 5 times, until class was over. Ugh.

Take a nap for me.





I’m In bred!

 Actually, I’m not. But I could have been. I’ve been working on my genealogy for years. My dad’s uncle married his first cousin.My mother’s uncle married his first cousin, Farther back, my great great aunt married her first cousin. I’m lucky I don’t have an arm growing out of my forehead!

Pleasant nightmares, Patty 

Im inbred