Bitter Train

Sue's Birthweek - A Pictorial Homage

2012-02-13T14:31:00.000-04:00

After looking up the definition of the word "homage," I'd like to note that here it means "a tribute, often of high respect" and NOT "a feudal ceremony by which a man acknowledges himself a vassal of a lord."

That out of the way, let's celebrate the many faces of Sue.

Here we see Sue, the animal lover, using her monkey thumbs to take a picture of Spanky. Come to think of it, she isn't really a big fan of Spanky (maybe it's the dead squirrel). Or Carbon(maybe it's the hair). Or Tilly(maybe it's because of Tilly). Perhaps it's better said that she is kind to animals.

Sue is fun-loving and knows how to bring people together for a good time. I mean, look how happy that football player is to be with her and her friends.

And versatile -

As a history buff and extraordinarily talented crafter, here are two of her interests combined:

She's generous, just like Santa.

Happy Birthday Sue!

Bologna Dreams and Cream Pie Wishes

2012-02-04T12:17:00.000-04:00

Remember the show Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous and their tag line: Champagne Dreams and Caviar Wishes?

We had our own version of it last night. In celebration of birthdays for both Chris and me, there was a gathering at the G and R Tavern in Waldo, Ohio. The G and R is known for its World Famous Bologna Sandwiches and we loaded up. The guests included my parents, my son, my in laws, and my dear friends. It was hard not to look around the table covered with bologna, curly fries, onion rings, napkin dispensers and mile high cream pie and not feel like I was truly blessed.

Fortunately, I don't need Robin Leach and his faux accent to tell me that I'm living the dream.

Some Assembly Required

2012-01-29T22:37:00.000-04:00

Alerted to a big sale at Big Lots, I headed there with my gift and discount card in hand. I decided to get a new office chair.

However, when I saw that I needed to assemble it myself, I had serious doubts, despite the assurance of an employee that they were simple. "Yeah, but simple enough for Lynne?" Obviously she doesn't know my skill set is very limited (and I hate the phrase "skill set"). When I opened the box, I had even more doubts.

There were many obstacles to assembly, including curious cats who each needed to inspect the empty box and the many chair pieces. Then there were the dogs who needed to be exactly where I was on the floor for an impromptu wrestling match.

Despite repeatedly saying, "I can't work like this, People!" (wrong audience for one thing), I made progress.

The directions said it could be put together in 30 minutes. Miraculously, I finished it just under an hour.

Look! It's the Executive Office Chair with High Back. And I'm sitting in it right now and it hasn't fallen apart. Not yet anyway.

However, it is only right that we take a moment to acknowledge the chair that The Executive is replacing. It's never had a name. I guess if it did it would be something like "Reuben Kincaid" because I'm pretty sure that this chair is Partridge Family era.

This chair was salvaged from the Admissions Office dumpster twice. Darren retrieved it the first time and gave it a home in his tiny office. Always unreliable, it threw many people out of it if they did much beyond sit quietly in a rigid upright position. No leaning - absolutely not! It tossed Darren over more than a few times, as well as many coworkers, visitors to the university, professors, and the director of Financial Aid (I was there for that one). Then when Darren left Admissions, they were going to throw the chair out (again), but Darren brought it to live on the Gold Coast. It's been here ever since.

So far it's lived longer than all the nine lives of all the cats. I'm not quite sure what to do with it. Maybe it will go into permanent retirement in the upstairs abyss. Or maybe I'll put it outside to see if someone wants to rescue it one more time. Old Reuben may still have some life left in it.

Gold Coast (Social) Living

2012-01-13T17:18:00.001-04:00

You've seen the commercials of the couple who take advantage of those daily deals for saving on big fun in their city? Yes, I've watched them get massages, hang glide, and eat sushi for a bargain.

I looked on some of those sites, and strangely there are no such offers for this immediate area. It made me wonder what a day of big fun would look like.

A very necessary stop would be the local dive-bar-turned-dive restaurant. A mere two miles away from Gold Coast Central, it does indeed deliver on some tasty, if not extremely country, fare. Why just today I noticed their lunch special was ham and beans with a side of corn bread.

Take that sushi!

While I do not know of a local boutique that sells those bizarelly high wedge heels, I do know of a certain thrift shop where you can try on a faux fur coat.

Did you see that? Less than $8 and I could have taken that puppy (I don't think it was made from real puppy) home - no coupon necessary! The helpful tag even told me to "clean using fur methong." As T and Pat will attest, their first thought was the tongue a la cat grooming.

Who needs aroma therapy and a babbling creek for one's massage when a new massage therapist has converted a room at the middle school-turned community center into their very own lap of luxury? (I sure hope it doesn't still smell like gym socks.)

Perhaps city dwellers like the fact that fate may have them run into some random celebrity who happily breezes about their town.

Recently, there were not one but four said famous "people."

And some people think the weiner mobile is a big deal.

While I can't think of the equivalent of zip lining or parachuting at fifty percent off, I do know that walking out to the kennel in forty mile per hour winds is SUCH a rush. And no charge!

Casino trips can not compare by the bet I have every winter that the snow plow will knock over my mailbox a minimum of three times.

And while there's Cirque de Soleil and the Blue Man Group with their fine talent, how can that be compared to this:

It's all in ther perspective.

Peace out, Dog.

Update: On January 14, my mailbox sustained its first blow. While still standing, it has a dent that prevents the lid from closing. Of course.

It's Pat's Birthday!

2012-01-04T19:09:00.001-04:00

And here are 50 reasons why we love her:
1.the macaroni and cheese champ of Hardin County…and she’s ready to challenge in adjoining counties.
2. theme years----cereal, sandwiches and this year…bacon!
3. freakish ability to remember details from farm auctions
4. cavernous basement
5. ready supply of cheese peanut butter crackers at her house
6. store bought ice
7. buffalo chicken dip
8. getting stuck behind her dryer
9. lost her cowboy boots in a freak kite accident
10. found two reasons to wear a cape/veil in 2011
11. keeps her house freakishly cold
12. not afraid to hold a big pickle

13. takes her chocolate wheel seriously (even if others don't)
14. got her first Nerts in 2011
15. can be called upon for bail money
16. mortar and pestle fetish
17. unlikely to get stuck under her bed
18. likes to use power tools
19. not always allowed to use power tools
20. often disappointed by free knives

21. stymied by Boggle
22. dedicated Zumbanista
23. likes to tell stories in her head
24. Queen of Chex Mix---bugles are her secret ingredient
25. still has the little paper covers for her knives. What's up with that?
26. runs Casino Parteleno
27. only allowed to wear hats with permission
28. has a secret relationship with Mike Rowe. Guess she likes 'em dirty.
29. knows how to play exotic poker games
30. excellent sock puppet maker

31. secret crafter
32. secret yet talented choreographer of Black Eyed Peas songs
33. can dance the Batman with true skill
34. keeps all tiny soaps and what nots from fancy hotels, later presented as valuable gift baskets
35. can clean a refrigerator better than an old Amish woman (mainly because they lack refrigeration)
36. feels strongly about tobacco products and misuse of prescription medication – not that this is an unusual stance, but perhaps the intensity is
37. knows people who know people in the mafia
38. dreams of herding hummingbirds – what’s not to like about that?
39. effectively uses shop vacs to clean her and others vehicles
40. has finally discovered the proper products to clean her floors
41. is working her way around the Las Vegas strip
42. loves her some tasting menus and flights of wine
43. is a good houseguest – cooks and cleans
44. cleans her house in zones
45. decorates HS Lehr every New Year's Eve
46. freakishly delicate palate that can detect subtle flavors
47. loyal fan of the Polar Bears
48. when there’s a death in the family, you can count on Pat to show up with paper products and stamps.
49. the first, and only, winner of Halloween Bingo

50. a good and loyal friend

The Day When Everything Was Difficult

2011-12-15T16:56:00.000-04:00

You know how most days everything just goes as it is supposed to? Then there are those days when the dehumidifier decides it needs to run all day and all night without taking a drop of real moisture from the air. It's the same day when the dogs in the kennel decide to jump on you with their muddy paws and the break light comes on in the truck.

But who knew it would also be the same day you hit a cat with your car, except the cat wasn't completely dead and the owner was standing there, at the mailbox, where moments before the cat was bumping its owner with its cute little head, until it saw my car and darted in front of it, despite the fact that I hit the brakes as soon as I saw the cat.

Ugh.

I turned the car around immediately, where the cat was in full flail. Oh. I wanted to hurl. It finally....stopped. The owner lady, with her mail in hand was extremely nice about it and wasn't nearly as freaked out as me. I apologized up and down, which probably any insurance company would say was a bad thing. Anyway, I told her I had a cat that looked just like that one and was so sorry.

The woman then went on to tell me that it was "Miss Kitty," who was one of her best mousers. I was feeling a little green again, imagining that now the woman's yard would be overrun with mice. THEN she told me how the cat had delivered FIVE litters of "purebred" kittens. First alarming thought....FIVE litters? Is she unaware of the pet overpopulation problem? Then she explained that a cat down the road came over and sired at least three of the litters and every kitten had been orange like Miss Kitty.

Uhh...forget the problem of overpopulation, she didn't even realize the definition of what a purebred cat was.

This only made me feel slightly better, however.

Somehow, I made it to Wal-mart to buy figs. This was so extremely difficult it made talking to that farm woman about her dead cat at the mailbox seem like a walk in a catless park. I had to ask two employees. I almost gave up, but considering I'd killed the county's best mouser, I thought I should at least persist to buy what I sought. It would do Miss Kitty a great honor to at least purvey the figs.

And $1.98 later, I had myself some figs, and carefully drove past the site of the slaughter, where Miss Kitty was no longer in sight.

Here I'd been already to do some stress eating and I had completely lost my appetite. Instead, I did stress shopping at Stites and managed to find a steal on Colby cheese and gingerbread latte creamer.

Coming in the door, I still felt sad, and oddly numb. Having my cats greet me made me feel worse. However, there was a package on my doorstep. It was something from my mom. In it were the promised sweaters (we'll call them vintage) and....

...one of her amazing Gingerbread men!

Look - it's like he's crying.

I feel better now.

Dayquil....My Muse

2011-11-21T13:12:00.000-04:00

I'm not feeling too well so I stayed home from school. Snow days are better, but this is pretty good except that I don't have much energy. I also seem to be having thoughts that are even more strange than usual. I'll share.

In the last three days, I've spent more time asleep than awake. Last night I woke up and just couldn't sleep any more and I thought "How does Dooley (the dog) do it? He's slept even more than me and he's still at it." My admiration for him continues to grow.

You know how Amish men who are married have beards and the single guys don't? I guess that's how you're supposed to know who to hit on at the barn dance. You can thank me for that tidbit of dating advice later. Anyway, I've realized that when I'm single, I'm thin (or less fat) but when I get married (yes, I've been married three times, get off my flabby back about it. At least I have some basis of comparison.) I get fat. I suppose it's better than growing a beard, but I'm still not happy about it.

I'm sort of in that point of being sick where I'm not tired enough to sleep but I'm too tired to do much (particularly good blog writing). I thought "what if I took the laptop in bed w/me?" Then I worried about falling asleep and rolling over on it and then I'd be like those people who do that w/their babies and kill them. Wouldn't that be awful? And I know the laptop is not a baby and that it's horrible for the people that happens to so don't write any hate mail about it.

I had ramen noodles for breakfast.

Gold Coast - The Desert Experience

2011-10-16T17:12:00.000-03:00

You, are loyal friends and fans, know how much we enjoy our Gold Coast Living.

Imagine our cumulative shock when it was reported a month ago that we actually live in a DESERT! A Food Desert!

Apparently this means that access to healthy food is difficult and not affordable. Perhaps this is true. However, I'm not so sure.

To find out, I'm starting a new blog. If you want to read about it, go to the link.

http://fooddesertliving.blogspot.com/

We're Having a Contest!

2011-10-02T18:02:00.000-03:00

I've been reading other blogs lately and lots of people have contests and giveaways in order to "drive traffic" to their blogs. Well, if anyone needs some traffic driven to them...it's us.

I recently learned that November is Prematurity Awareness Month. This is news to me and since I know premature births can be stressful, and even tragic, I'm good with supporting Prematurity Awareness Month.

HOWEVER---once I saw the word "prematurity" all I could think about is whether there is an IMmaturity Awareness Month. Every cause has a motto, a color, logo, and a month.

Here's where the contest comes in---in the comment section below please submit your contest entries with suggestions for motto, color, logo and month. We encourage creativity and if you have any other ideas for things that Immaturity Awareness Month needs (like a celebrity spokesperson) then feel free to add those.

Just like Dancing With the Stars, winners will be determined by a convoluted calculation based on audience votes (no 800 numbers, sorry, just put your votes in the comments too) and Judges' Scores (we are willing to be bribed).

Prizes will be awarded from the assortment of crap in my guest room. This could be anything from a partially finished craft project to a box of Christmas ornaments or (my favorite) a shoebox of my family photos.

Enter as many times as you like.

All prize entries become the property of The Bitter Train. heehee

Found On The Road, Part Five

2011-10-01T15:34:00.000-03:00

Found On The Road, Part Four (or more)

2011-09-23T17:37:00.000-03:00

When I worked in Admissions, there was a co-worker who no one liked. And I do mean no one. Of course, we were a very immature staff, but I still believe that if we all got together again, we still would find her to be universally disliked.

One of the (many) things she did was order flowers for herself, have them delivered to the office, and say they were from some new boyfriend. It's amazing none of us needed surgery from so much eye rolling at her antics.

Now that I work at home, I don't have boss or coworker issues. And I like that. If I want to order flowers for myself, I won't fool myself or anyone else.

But something was recently delivered to the door of my business. It's something I often find "gifted" to me by one of my cats on the back porch. Apparently some cat decided I needed to impress those dogs in the kennel.

"No take backs!"
But back to my recent adventure of walking dogs and subsequent findings.

That's right, Ladies and Gentlemen, for the first time in Bitter Train history, a dead mouse and a toilet in the same blogpost.

Don't despair, there's more.
First, I passed a crushed up empty plastic water bottle. No big deal, right? Then I found this:

Okay, so Tilly found it first. A mysterious pack of pills, with the name of the person to whom it was prescribed (note fancy grammar)was ripped away. Hmmmm....

Then, I found this:

Only one pill was missing. The rest, tossed aside.

It is mysterious.

Resting Up for The Big Day

2011-09-20T14:27:00.000-03:00

You may have wondered where we've been. Sure, you guessed correctly we were probably out there somewhere, marinating in our bitter juices.

Mostly, though, we had to rest up for this past Saturday. It was a huge day near the Gold Coast. It was the Harvest and Bee (Herb) Festival!

Sue was awakened to the sound of a church group yelling back and forth to each other, possibly debating the means of salvation, as they lined up for the parade. When Sue peaked out the window, she noticed a rather large tub, prompting her to wonder if it might be for mobile baptisms. This was not true since I watched the entire, rather tedious parade.

It's not every day you get to see a tractor dedazzled with butternut and bittersweet (our favortite herb).

It's also not often you get to see children dressed up like a hot dog and stop light (their salute to NYC).

In other ways, it was just like other normal parades in that we had completely questionable political candidates hawking their pamphlets.

It wasn't easy keeping Pat from knocking out the driver of this train and taking control. Chances are good she would have mown down the aforementioned candidates.

And while this in and of itself was exciting, there was a much bigger event that day. Jenny got married! Isn't she gorgeous?

And she was kind enough to invite us too (though not the football player - he was already there). As you can see, they had salad (among other delicious things).

Despite Lynne's job as Champagne Coordinator, this particular group did nt get too rowdy.

That's good because if the fake football player wasn't enough, there was that golden jock strap hanging about.

We don't get out much, but when we do, we clean up pretty good, don't we? And we (sometimes) act half-way decent.

Congratulations to our friend Jenny, who is not acting at all bitter these days.

Who Buys This Stuff?

2011-08-25T09:26:00.000-03:00

Sure, it's one thing to laugh and take a picture of an unusually tacky object at Stites then put it on your blog.

But who pays hard earned cash for this kitsche?

Looking for a Sign?

2011-08-17T15:04:00.000-03:00

Life can be confusing. We all need direction? The Magic 8 Ball is a liar.

Where can one turn?

Stites. It has never failed.

Just look where you can go:

You're welcome.

Things to Catalog to Perpetuity - Part One

2011-08-11T10:52:00.001-03:00

Once you start reading, it will become clear this is Lynne's work, not Sue's. But, it seems important to clarify this upfront nonetheless.

Some women lie about their age. I'll probably have to lie about how many cats I own.

What follows is a complete listing of all the cats that have lived on the Gold Coast at the same time as me. Unless otherwise noted, I will not list the demise of said cats. It's also important to note that at no time did I surpass the Cat Capacity of "Six."

1995 - We moved in with Joe and Arthur. Goldie already lived here. His girlfriend, Cleo, also took up residence, along with that scoundrel Johnny Cat (he looked like the cat on the cat litter bag), who always tried to woo Cleo away from Goldie. Shortly upon arrival, all were spayed or neutered. Johnny Cat left town and Goldie (eventually) never returned from the woods. We never missed those two, but we sure liked Cleo.

That same year, I was returning home from my job at the local humane society, only to find a small cat standing in the middle of the road. When I stopped, heaved a great sigh, and opened my car door, he dashed in. That's when Otto, aka "Bunnyman", got here. He was a great cat - retrieved bouncy balls like a labrador.

Olive yowled incessantly from a branch high up in a maple tree. I heard her as I came out of the newly-opened kennel. When I climbed the ladder, she was too scared to move. I had to literally tear her from the branch and pluck her onto my lumberjack coat to get her down. Olive still lives here, a professional napper.

Baker lived in the dumpster at the local pizza shop until I got take-out on a rainy night. Then he lived here. Giant Black Bart found his way here and loved beating up Olive.

Penny was dumped at the local vet's office in April 2003 and was my birthday present - a kitten. She really did have nine lives - venturing into the fridge for regular chilly visits, chased by a fox til Foster and Guinnes intervened, gone for days only to return thin and dehydrated, and showing up with a lame leg and grease on her body. And that's after surviving Darren running her over in his electric cart.

Chloe lived here a short time after someone begged me to keep her, just as an outside cat. Chloe was a great mouser, yet it was her downfall as well.

A feral kitten in Ada, Dooley was (and still is) the least friendly cat. However, he's one of the sweetest, once you make his list. Franklin, the biggest cat I've ever owned at 20 pounds, is like a dog, following me around, waiting for a pat on the head.

Carbon was dumped off here as a tiny, three week old dirty kitten. She was a mess but is now one of the most beautiful with a coat as soft as mink (although I've never felt mink, so I could be all wrong about that).

Which brings me to that terrorist of a kitten, The Captain. Found just north of here on June 1st, the month old shy kitten now has the whole Gold Coast in his fearful reign.

I'm pretty sure that's it. I really hope so.

Tilly's New Normal

2011-08-04T10:34:00.000-03:00

Yesterday, Tilly tore the eye out of her stuffed toy. Do you think she was trying to make her world consistent? Doesn't everything have one eye?

Perhaps I need to keep "one eye" open when I sleep at night.

Random Stuff From This Week....And It's Only Wednesday

2011-07-27T22:59:00.000-03:00

Where to I begin?

When all else fails, go with chronological order. I also like to go with alphabetical, but that seems too complicated for this situation. How would I label the conversations? Weird thing my student said would be in the W section, but Goofy thing my student said would be in the G's. So, let's go with chronological.

Yesterday was my parents' 53rd wedding anniversary. (yay!) Chris and I took them out for dinner. If you were eavesdropping from the table next door, you might have heard something like this.

Chris: "Wow, little pancakes." (I ordered mu shu)
Me: "Yep. I think every culture has a food that gets wrapped up."
Chris: "I don't remember ever seeing anything about tacos during the revolutionary war."
My mother: "They had hoe cakes."
Chris: "I didn't think you were able to eat those outside." [you might have needed to be there for this one, but it was funny]

I also learned that my cousin sent my mom a photo from the wedding of my cousin's daughter. Seems harmless. Turns out that my cousin photo shopped a picture of my deceased aunt (her mother/bride's grandmother) so that my aunt is part of a stained glass window in the church looking down on the bride. EEEEwwwww. Is there anyone (other than my cousin) who thinks that's a good idea?

Also from dinner with my parents:
Me: So where did you guys go on your honeymoon?
Dad: Somewhere near the shore in Maryland.
Me: Is that all you remember?
Mom: I also left my nightgown at the hotel we stayed in the first night.
Chris: How many days did it take you to notice?

I'm teaching a public speaking class this summer. My students were asked to watch video tapes of themselves giving speeches and then write a review of themselves. In response to "what will you do differently next time?" one student said "I didn't take my anti-anxiety medicine. I'll do that for sure next time."

Another student said that she'd "use her arms to make more jesters".

Tomorrow I'm going to make Caprese Baked Eggs (recipe at How Sweet Treats, see our favorite blogs over there ----->
The only thing I don't have for the recipe is cream so I headed out for some half and half. Being lazy, I went to the drive thru.

Me: You wouldn't happen to have half and half, would you?
Drive Thru Guy: We do. But I just noticed that it's expired.
He pulls a pint and a quart from the cooler. "It's dated the 27th so I guess I'll just throw it away."
Me: Today's the 27th (I was considering offering to buy them for half price because I didn't want to go to another store).
Drive Thru Guy: Here, you can just have them.
Me: Thanks. I guess I'm a garbage eater. If you don't see me for a couple days, it's because I shouldn't have been drinking this stuff.
Drive Thru Guy gives me the thumbs up and says "Remember, only at The Four Seasons."

Am I the only one, or have you had some random things happen too?

So I Went a Little Nuts...

2011-07-26T18:10:00.000-03:00

Cinnamon almonds with cocoa almonds?! Hello!! For .99 (and not stale). How could I not buy 10? I heart Stites.

I also bought frozen chocolate covered bananas - one milk and one dark chocolate.

So I guess I also went a little bananas.

Bob is Awesome

2011-07-24T21:55:00.000-03:00

This is Bob.

Bob is the rather peculiar umbrella top handle belonging to Robin. Bob is over 20 years old. Robin got Bob sometime in college. It seems like Bob has been around forever.

Bob's showing a little age, but today Robin found him in the garage. Bob's sort of eternal. It's good to have him back.

Bob is awesome.

Who Says My Life Isn't Working Out?

2011-07-03T22:02:00.000-03:00

One of my favorite sayings is "It's good to have a goal." Sometimes I use it sarcastically, like when a student promises to be on time to class, but mostly, I think that having goals is important. They don't have to be life changing goals like running a marathon or curing cancer. I just think that it's important to have something to look forward to. Something that catches your attention and gives you something to think about during television commercials. Or while other people are talking and you aren't really listening. Some might say that I should have a goal of writing in complete sentences.

Some goals are short term: can I get through church without giving the evil eye to the people with the crying baby? Others are longer term: will I ever have a tenth wedding anniversary?

Recently I achieved a more mid-range goal---It's taken about two weeks, which is sort of embarrassing to admit but it's not like I skipped work or sleep to achieve it.

Yes, that's over ONE MILLION Points.

My fingers are a little cramped up, but no pain, no gain.

Beauty and Home Decor Tips by Lynne

2011-06-30T14:47:00.001-03:00

First it was Martha Stewart who had multiple media outlets to showcase her broad knowledge of elegant living. Then, Rachel Ray made a valiant attempt.

Here on the Gold Coast, there's no reason to think we can't do the same.

But, perhaps, on a scale of elegance that has a slightly different um...calibration.

How does a Hardin County Girl stay beautiful and youthful? When I was a kid, I read in Teen Magazine how a simple smear of Vaseline was an inexpensive yet effective way to keep lips moisturized.

Eat your heart out Suzie Chapstick.

When my grandmother died, it was discovered that she had quite the treasure trove of Vaseline (goodness knows what pop up ads we'll get now). The above jar, now empty, was part of my inheritance. I doubt Grandma Leiner read that tip in Teen Magazine. I don't really want to know why she had so much but as a person who lived through the Depression, there were many, many products that she had stockpiled. In fact, twenty years later, I still have a can of Comet from her cache.

And, don't worry, still more Vaseline. But, sadly, this is the last. In ten years, I may have to spend $3 to buy more. That is, if it's even sold anymore.

Next, let's discuss home decor. While my own home is done up with a motif of "Early Garage Sale," I do have standards. They are low, but I have them.

But, they are not this low:

This little gem was hanging at Habitat for Humanity's Restore. Personally, I find it extremely Inhumane. What sort of services do they offer anyway? Who on earth would want a latch hooked Holly Hobby set off by institutional carpeting as a background? Seriously, it's like donating pickled beets or sardines to the food pantry.

It's truly amazing that some reality show has not found us yet.

What Are My Health Concerns?

2011-06-15T13:34:00.000-03:00

This morning, our friend Pat sent me an email asking me what health topics, I, as a consumer, would like to know more about. A good and important issue.

Not wanting to just dash off some flippant response, I gave it careful thought. After all, health concerns demand our attention. Here's what I've come up with (so far):

1. How much toilet paper must I layer on a toilet seat to avoid germs? Actually, does this technique work at all?

2. Is this brown spot on my arm a mole, age spot or skin cancer? Explain.

3. What is the most polite way to tell my homeopathic friend I will not cut up onions and leave them around my house to prevent germs? I've got enough problems explaining my home to visitors.

4. How many S T D 's do you think that waiter might have?

5. Why does that man hit his pit bull with his ball cap? Wait, that's a question I have for me.

6. I've heard Zumba is a great fitness activity. Is it true that Lynne is the best instructor? (okay, can we at least agree she's the most recently licensed in the greater Gold Coast area?)

7. What is the most effective way to soothe my aching muscles (see above) now that drug dealers have ruined my dates with Mr. Bubble?

8. What does Chris put in the burgers to make them so darn good?

9. The Healing Power of Plarn. Discuss.

As you can see, I've really been mulling these over. One mustn't trifle with one's health.

Careful Research, Part Two

2011-06-09T17:03:00.000-03:00

Today I needed a little reward after my annual exam. Perhaps that is too much information, but it's my explanation for why I went to McDonald's. The day before, I'd heard that their new Rolo McFlurry was fabulous. In need of fabulosity, I went to see The Clown (thank you, Chris, for this dubbing). I ordered the snack size for $1.50. It was not bad. It wasn't fabulous. Plus, the weird plastic spoon it came with looked like a doctor's dosing spoon. Considering from where I'd just been, this was not welcome.

Perhaps, (in the interest and benefit of helping you, the reader, find good ice cream as stated before) I needed to do a comparison with the local ice cream place, Buster's. Since they didn't have Rolo as an option for their "cyclones" (why must these ice cream/candy treats be named after inclement weather conditions?), my local ice cream mix-masters proposed a combination of chocolate and caramel, like a turtle sans nuts.

Here's where the locals win every time over the big chain - customized orders, thinking outside the box. Or thinking outside the cone anyway.

However, it was a bit disappointing too. Don't get me wrong, it wasn't awful. However, the cyclone/flurry/hurricane/blizzard ice cream treat has at its very heart the promise of candy surprises swirled through sweet, soft ice cream. This concoction was all, well...mixed up. It tasted just...cold. I didn't even finish it (when you're counting calories, every single one better be darn near delicious). Buster's option was also more expensive and only slightly bigger than McD's.

While I prefer to give the locals my business, the quest for fabulosity continues, both in ice cream treats and life in general.

Found on the Road, Part Three (or more)

2011-06-03T16:22:00.000-03:00

Wednesday, I sent a text that read, "Look what I found near my house."

This could mean anything. Looking back over the years, lots of interesting things have been found on the road near or around my house.

Usually, it's something like this:

What is that? You ask? Melted gummy bears. How do I know? Because when I walked the dogs by there earlier in the week, they were unmelted.

But Wednesday's surprise was ALIVE:

And very small. And hungry.

If you are in need of a charming four week old kitten who wants to be held all the time, please let me know. Soon.

In a weird twist on "found on the road," the kitten I were on the road

That just blew your mind, didn't it?

Remembering

2011-05-30T17:09:00.000-03:00

Folks on the Bitter Train are patriotic. To that end, we salute our veterans. (imagine salute here)

This morning as I went to pick up my paper at the end of my drive, my neighbor drove by. Earlier I heard his dog barking and whining a bit. After his truck passed, I noticed it was hauling a trailer. On the back of the trailer was a huge piece of wood laying horizontally, with a gravestone up vertically that read "RIP." At first, I thought his dog died. Then I figured he must be in a parade.

It is why I don't ask too many questions around here.

Most people celebrate by huge community garage sales. Nothing says celebrate your freedom like selling the crap you don't want anymore.

Isn't it beautiful? Tear.

Memorial Day is also seen as the beginning of summer. I decided that I'd do some important research so that you, loyal reader, will have vital information at your fingertips. While in the greater Gold Coast area, you will now know where to get the best chocolate shake.

First, I stopped by Buster's and requested from my friend Patty (hi Patty) what would be the most chocolate-y shake. She said a hot fudge shake made with chocolate ice cream. Done! The teenager enthusiastically filled my order. I'm sure she was admiring my gusto for chocolate. Cost - $2.25. That's the cup on the right.

Unlike some shake fans, I like my shakes thin. This is so I can suck down the chocolate-y goodness as quickly as possible. Buster's shake was a bit thick, so I had to wait a little while. However, it's 90 out, so just a few miles down the road, I tore into it. It was quite good. However, you will notice, it was on the small side. When the menu said small, they meant small.

Not having sufficient chocolate for the day, I headed to the Dairy Barn for a back-to-back comparison. As you can see in terms of value, straws down Dairy Barn had the edge. I requested the exact same ingredients, though my choices were for regular or large. Employees here last year tended to be a bit on the surly side. However, the woman who took my order definitely had the jealousy of my order for "an intense chocolate shake."

It also was on the thick side. Very thick. I had to wait much longer to really get going with this one. Fortunately, I was home soon and just set it outside for a minute thirty seconds and it was in fine form. Taste wise, it seemed a bit chalky. However, every now and then, their chocolate soft serve gets funky and is more like a creamsicle than ice cream.

What's the verdict? Meh. Buster's cup has a better design perhaps. Neither shake had the "wow" factor. But they had the "good enough" factor. And here on the Gold Coast, we're all about that.

Here's a picture of Frankie inspecting what was left of shake number two. I took it while I had the other picture up, ready to blog. Freaky.

Tornado Safety

2011-05-25T16:02:00.000-03:00

Monday night we had some freaky storms. We turned on the TV and watched the weather guy practically show us street by street where the storms were (and this was the pokey little Lima station. Who knew?).

Earlier in the day Chris and I had taken my parents to Columbus so my mom could have out patient surgery. (It went well, thanks for asking). But, it had been a long day. When I got home, I put on a pair of shorts...they were sort of a light green.

And I was wearing black underwear. I thought about changing so that my undies didn't appear to be a shadow under my shorts, but again, it had been a long day and I was wearing a long t-shirt, so I just went with it.
(It might appear that the honeymoon is over.)

Then when the storms started and Chris and I looked at each other like "well, what should we do?" my thought was---"do I need to change my underwear?"

I pictured myself digging through the rubble of my home, soaking wet from the fact that the roof blew off my house, wearing the neon yellow/green shorts with the black undies now very obvious. I imagined what it would look like when the folks from CNN came and interviewed me about the storm damage and I was on national tv with my black undies/neon shorts combo saying "it sounded like a train".

I thought "what if I die? Is this the outfit I want to be found in?"

Apparently, the answer was yes because my black undies and I survived the storm.

Does this mean I have a new pair of lucky undies?

Good News---You Too Can Save Tons of Money

2011-05-18T17:54:00.001-03:00

An article on Yahoo today had an interesting title "One Family's Plan to Save $12,975 this summer."

Intrigued, I clicked to read the article. Wow, these folks are really living on the brink. Here's one example of how they plan to save money: Rather than spending their usual $5,000 on a vacation this summer, they are going to go to a local resort for $400, thus saving $4,600.

Call the Red Cross. This is America. We can't stand by and let people suffer like that.

Now, they didn't say that they actually had 5K to spend on vacation this year, just that they usually spend that amount. So, if they didn't have the money to begin with, are they really saving anything if they don't spend it?

Well, it's on Yahoo, so it must be right. And, based on this reasoning, I've determined that I am going to be able to save even more than these folks. Here's my plan:

1. I will not have a weekly massage. Savings: $50/week or $600 over the three months of summer.

2. I will eat chicken instead of steak. Savings: $25/week or $300 over the summer.

3. I will not buy $75 jeans or a $300 purse. Savings: $375.

This is fantastic! With all these savings, I'll soon be able to quit my job. I'm inspired to cut back even more.

4. I will not have liposuction. I don't know how much that costs, but I'll go conservative with $5,000.

5. I will not go on a two week European Vacation. Savings: $5,000

6. I will not remodel my kitchen. Savings: $20,000.

I'm already saving $30,1275. Seriously, how can so many people be defaulting on their debts when this simple savings plan can save you tens of thousands of dollars.

So, how about you? How will you save money this summer?

Of Head Injuries and Fancy Dinners

2011-05-07T21:21:00.000-03:00

Friday promised to be a peaceful day. The sun was out, which was highly unusual, and the temperature wasn't so bad that I needed wool socks. In fact, I woke up early and even showered before my 7 a.m. kennel appointment. Coffee, oatmeal, newspaper. Bliss.

Having completed a (startlingly bad) first draft of my recent writing project, the day was free. To celebrate, I made my own deodorant (don't laugh, it works great with hot flashes). One of my friends called and she had a very bad day, including having her car full of children backed into by a small bus.

Thinking my day was smooth sailing by comparison, I went out to mow the yard. This is no small task as there are many obstacles. Very often I end up dodging bushes and ducking under branches. However, I didn't duck yesterday and got a scratch on my forehead by a low-lying limb. It hurt but I had only a small window before rain was on its way.

I finished half and then realized I needed to get ready for a dinner the former president of the university was having. In the house, I looked in the mirror to see a seriously heinous bloody gash on my forehead. With grass stuck to it. I showered and hoped it would clean up okay. Fortunately, my hair turned out so odd that it distracted from the bright red stripe on my head.

All seemed smooth at the dinner and no one mentioned my wound. Perhaps I should set the scene. These are fancy affairs with white tablecloths in a nice room with chandelier (like) lighting. People dress up and don't seem very comfortable in their own skin. There is a table chart and nicely lettered seating cards with the pre-set fruit cups and salads.

Then there's me, who sails in with grass clippings stuck to my shoes and a seeping cut on my head, glad-handing the President Emeritus and making silly jokes. Soon, he went to the podium and asked us to find our seats. Everyone scurried to their chairs.

I hesitated, but slowly sat at my table set for eight. Alone. No one else who was assigned my table were there. Just me, and eight fruit cups. It was quickly noticed by all in attendance, including our host. It was hard to keep from busting out laughing. Instead, I said, "Well, I'll just sit here with all my friends" As more heads turned, I asked, "Does this mean I can eat their food?"

The ever-gracious host assured us that some shuffling would take place. However, Pat, who was also invited but had been assigned to some other rogue table, offered to sit with me (strangely, no one else volunteered).

Then, about ten minutes into our fruit cups, a young woman joined us who was assigned the table. We chatted and learned her husband couldn't attend because one of their cows was having a difficult time calving (I'm not sure how to spell calving). Perhaps this topic of dinner conversation might seem gauche and odd to big city people. I thought it was fascinating and had a short list of follow-up questions. She obviously was at the right place.

Later, I ran into a woman at the dinner who asked what I was up to lately (she kindly didn't stare at my head wound). I told her I was going to get licensed to have zumba classes. She told me that she knew another woman who taught it but the moves were really hard. She thought maybe she could handle my class. I'm not sure how I feel about that.

As you can imagine, it was an eventful night. Then, we all went to see Oklahoma! That Judd guy was really scary. That's my full review.

Perhaps I should have worn my hair like this:

Do you have a dinner party nightmare story? Funny Head injury incidents? (How many times do I get to ask that question?)

What Makes You Itch?

2011-04-18T16:30:00.002-03:00

Last week, I was outside enjoying a somewhat pleasant day. Of course, it did not last long. At least there was a little time to walk the dogs around the pond and enjoy the great outdoors. I even hung laundry outside in a great sign that Spring is surely here and I am still a total tightwad.

Later, my right leg was itching terribly with the added effect of some tingling. Just what was going on? Finally, I located the culprit:

A bully wooly bully. Apparently it came out from hibernation and decided my pant leg was a logical place to scale. As a result of me walking around and doing my normal routine, the bully began to bite, rub, sting, drill poison in my veins - whatever it was doing - it hurt!

It's really not a fair deal since I spend a lot of time and concentration trying to avoid running these little creatures over every fall as they scurry across the roads. If I'd known they were mini furry killers I'd be much less careful.

Then, there's the little item in my mailbox today. If it had not been in a cheerful envelope, then surely I would have simply left it in the mailbox forever. I would probably have had to move.

It's so horrifying I don't know what to do. In fact, I don't know how to get it out of my house. I may have to move.

Thanks, Trina, for one of the most frightening birthday gifts I've ever received.

The Other Woman

2011-04-11T11:07:00.003-03:00

I knew that eventually the honeymoon would be over and Chris, my usually attentive and doting husband, might cool in his desire to focus his attention on me. I just didn't expect it this soon and I didn't think it would be over...her.

Sure, I can understand the attraction.

I'm lumpy. She's sleek.

I'm old school. She's fashionable and trendy.

I'm dial up. She's wi-fi.

But mostly, I think it's the eager way she responds even to his most gentle touch.

Be on the look out. This vixen could invade your homes as well.

Now I know why they called the company Apple...it's full of temptation.

When Will the Excitement End?

2011-04-08T14:06:00.002-03:00

Some weeks are mundane. Some are eventful. This week has been the latter for the Scott household. What I've learned is, I prefer mundane.

Monday was as normal as they can get on the Gold Coast. However, Tuesday was a day of carting Foster and Tilly over to see Money Guy. Since he and his assistant (Money Guy's All-Knowing Assistant) like dogs, the two of them were invited into the office.

Foster ran into things. Tilly ran around everywhere, and managed to pee a little from all the excitement. Then, they gave her a new squeaky toy.

It's been non-stop squeaking ever since. It must be hidden at night. Sometimes it makes me cry.

Then Wednesday was take-two-cats-to-the-vet day. One of the cats now weighs an impressive even twenty pounds. The other (the ever crafty Dooley) has to have a tooth pulled, so he was prescribed an anti-biotic. I got one dose in him just before I released him from his carrier when we got home. The result was a trail of orange foam as he ran around the house in terror. It was not a good time.

But the weekend promises to be non-stop hilarity. I mean, check this out:

What could it be? Will we get to wear safari hats? Detective monocles?

I Can't Explain...

2011-03-29T11:50:00.002-03:00

Remember The Who song, "I Can't Explain"? It was about love. The Who had one of the best guitarists ever.

What I can't explain (besides love) is the advertisement I saw in yesterday's paper. It's real. I blocked out the phone number, but maybe I should have included it for anyone in need of this guy's services (or gal).

Realizing I live in a rural area, maybe I simply am not aware of the growing need for air guitarists, let alone seeing an actual professional in action. Does he have air blisters on his fingers?

Coffee Belongs in a Cup

2011-03-14T13:08:00.002-03:00

Here on the Bitter Train, we enjoy a frugal home remedy or repurposed item.

When I read about adding olive oil to used coffee grounds as a body scrub, I got pretty excited. (note Dooley's inspection, and possible chemical analysis)

The concoction was easy to put together and I marched upstairs to put it to the test. Looking forward to an invigorating exfoliation, I got to scrubbing. It was rough. Literally. It also was messy. There were grounds all over the shower and tub. They also lodged in inconvenient locations on my body.

Perhaps it was yet another case of "operator error." However, from now on, used coffee grounds are going in the compost.

Do you have any fun "home remedies"? What about uses for coffee grounds?

Santa Can't Swim

2011-03-02T14:40:00.012-04:00

Last Saturday night, I walked to the beach and enjoyed my last Florida sunset.

The next day, I drove home with the dogs. The car was sort of packed.

When I got home, I realized something was different. This is not my mailbox.

I mean, it's the mailbox in front of my house, but when I left, it was a black plastic mailbox. Now it's a grey metal mailbox. With a huge dent. ???

The next day, school was canceled and Pat and Liz and I went out on an excursion.

The last time the three of us were together, we were having a Florida Adventure. Let's take a look at what we did, shall we?
Liz at Babcock Ranch - ta da!

We took a cool tour through swamp land and saw cypress knees, wild boars, turkeys, Florida cracker cattle and GATORS!!

Other than someone's grandson, we were the youngest people on the tour.

We went to the Italian market and got all kinds of goodies, including fresh, warm mozzarella cheese. And this chocolate ganache cake.

It was quite a party.

Back in Ohio (and stark reality), we went to lunch at Bob Evans and had cherry pie at the Kewpee. For entertainment, our tour was to the nearby Goodwill and Tractor Supply. Yes, it was just a bit different of an experience.

But even though this was my welcome home:

It was okay. These same friends (and Sue!) cleaned my house before I got home. They rock. It's not where you are, it's who you're with.

Besides, small towns always have some weird crap that can never be matched in a big city. For instance, there's the local Christmas display in the park. Each year, there's some kitschy and probably offensive scene to visit. And sometimes the weather is so bad, they keep it up until the snow melts. And with snow melt and torrential rains, it's even a more interesting display:

There's only so much fresh mozzarella can do for you.

Please note that is a small plastic Santa, not Sue.

Lucky Monkeys

2011-02-21T11:35:00.003-04:00

Do not adjust your set. Yes, this is exactly what it appears to be:

A Sea Monkeys Slot Machine! Hereafter known as SM Squared. It's true! And it's the cool sea monkeys with crowns. I played this exact machine and won $45.

Imagine my excitement as the reels spun and sea monkeys in all varieties went flying by. It was almost too much to bear.

After I won on this machine we went off and did other things, then I wanted to come back. But others had found the joy of the SM Squared so I had to sort of lurk and stalk. In the whole casino, there were only two SM squareds.

It would have been better if I hadn't scared that lady off since I quickly lost money the second time around. Sea Monkeys are fickle.

It's Someone's Birthday....

2011-02-15T10:24:00.003-04:00

Guess who's?

Animal Crackers-Not For Children Any More

2011-02-07T16:52:00.002-04:00

Just a few short years ago, the Super Bowl halftime show was under fire for Janet Jackson and Justin Timberlake's performance and bodice-ripping. A family friendly event was now the latest vehicle for sexual more-pushing (that's supposed to be "mor-ay"). Or so it was suspected.

I didn't really pay much attention to the flap (so to speak). However, with this latest discovery, perhaps there is some type of secret agenda after all:

Draw your own conspiracies.

Florida - Have a Tree-ific Day!

2011-02-03T11:19:00.011-04:00

Just what have I been doing down here, you ask? Even if you didn't, here are some of the sights. The next four are from the Kite Festival on Treasure Island. Apart from the teams who flew kites in the "double string ballet competition" (think synchronized swimming with kites) it was a normal event.

Treasure Island used to have a lot more "kitsch" than it does now. However, there are still photo opportunties:

Pirates will be pirates, though, and this one's sign reads "Do Not Climb Pirate." It's like they know me.

There are many entrepreneurs trying to make a living. Pamphlets and business cards are left on my door often. However, my favorite is this hand written piece of paper. Note how I cleverly blocked out there phone number with lipstick (although I guess they'd welcome any phone calls). The last line is my favorite: "Have a tree-ific day." Thanks, I will now.

Then there's this disturbing figurine that looks like a teddy bear in a housedress and slippers hanging out with its duck friend. Those are all the words I have for this.

Sea Monkeys are Really Terrific Day (SMART)

2011-01-26T14:05:00.003-04:00

Veteran's have their day, as does the Flag. Even Ground Hogs have a day.

But what about the Sea Monkey?

Think about the celebrations we could have that were Sea Monkey-centric! Better yet - the decorations. Frankly, it could be quite a party.

While I didn't personally witness this, Pat has a terrific Sea Monkey story of her own. Our friend Robin (hi Robin!) was in her dorm room chatting. Then she saw a snow globe and said, "I love snow globes!" and began vigorously shaking it. Unfortunately, water began to slosh around. Pat yelled, "No! Stop! Those are my Sea Monkeys!"

Sadly, that was the end of the Sea Monkeys. We never found out if they really wear crowns when they grow up.

What's your Sea Monkey Story? Any suggestions for a menu, ritual, and decorations?

Sea Monkey Stories: A Follow Up
A Friend of a Friend of the blog had a brother who had sea monkeys as a child. one day he poured them in a glass so he could clean the bowl. He forgot to put them back and later, when he was thirsty....well, that's one briney protein shake.

Another Friend said for her sea monkeys were nothing but "a bitter disappointment." When pressed, we discovered that it was that the sea monkeys did not really grow up to wear crowns and live in castles. They also didn't have that cute Dr. Seuss look as promised in the ads.

Another person wrote that while she didn't have sea monkeys, she'd welcome them as a gift. However, she had an ant farm, but the ants bit her and then died. We're not sure if that was the exact order of how things happened. She also speculates were due to her not feeding them. This may also be why they bit her. It's all so complicated.

When I Am Queen---A New Calendar Without January

2011-01-24T13:04:00.000-04:00

January sucks.

Seriously. Even the most upbeat can only maintain their enthusiasm for a new year for a few days in the face of cold, dark, windy January. January is like the saltpeter of months.

So, when I am Queen, I will create a new calendar which eliminates January. Initially, I thought we'd just start with February (which is slightly more appealing than January because it contains my birthday and Valentine's Day and it's one month closer to spring) and have an 11 month year. Upon further consideration, I realized that shorter years would mean my birthday would roll around more frequently and since I'm going to be 49 in a couple weeks, that seemed like a bad idea. The years seem to fly by as it is, so shortening them would really add to my confusion.

So, here's my plan. We'll eliminate January all together. Those with January birthdays would get to choose a new day of the year for their birthdays. How fun would that be? Tired of having your birthday parties cancelled due to blizzards? Move your birthday to a nice hot day in July and have a pool party.

What about those extra 31 days? Well, let's give February a few more so that we don't have that stupid 28 day thing going on.

Next, I'd add another week or two to June. Who wouldn't want more June? This also creates more weekends for those June Brides.

I'd also add a couple weeks to October, the most beautiful time of the year. More weekends for leaf looking and crisp fall days for Football.

Finally, I'm tempted to cut out the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas because I find "the holiday season" very stressful. However, I know there are a lot of folks out there who get really turned on by all the Holly Jolly Good Times, so in deference to them, I won't change that. But, I would add an extra few days between Christmas and New Years so that those with time off (like me) would have more time to recover from the aforementioned Holly Jolly Good Times of the holidays.

What do you think? What day would you pick for your birthday? What month would you add more days to?

Garbage Eaters Unite!

2011-01-20T12:30:00.002-04:00

Within the first days of arriving at my rental in Florida, my eagle-eyes spotted this in the grass:

Yes - that's a Milky Way Mini, dark.

Today, the owners called to ask if the grass needed to be mowed since we've had a lot of rain. First of all, I totally forgot that still needs to be done since mowing isn't a thought for me til March, maybe. Then, I went out and checked out the Milky Way, which is just as visible today as it was two weeks ago. I emailed the owners back the lawn was fine, because of the Milky Way.

Why is the Milky Way still there, you may ask? Well, that's a good question. Personally, I think it's because at any given moment, I may go out and eat it.

Gettin' Piggy With It

2011-01-14T23:43:00.002-04:00

Mark your calendars, load up on the Pepto and lace up your shoes...the countdown is on to the 2011 Harrod Pork Rind Festival.

Based upon my crack research, I've learned that it is always the second weekend in June...so you've just got five months to make your plans.

The Bitter Train will be there in all its snarky glory...and we're bringing friends. KC is trying to figure out if there are any direct flights from LaGuardia to Harrod. Pat is in training for the 5K. Lynne is considering the pork rind eating competition.

I'm working on a slogan for my 5K t-shirt. So far, my favorite is "Pork Rinds: It's no skin off my a**".

Ode to A Pickle Jar

2011-01-13T16:17:00.004-04:00

As Lynne has mentioned in previous posts, I drink a lot of iced tea. I'm supposed to be drinking more water so I'm trying. Usually I drink out of a big plastic cup with a lid and straw...that way I can get maximum beverage consumption without worrying about spilling on my computer.

The other day I was gazing at myself in the mirror and noticed wrinkles in a new place...around my mouth. I have smoker lips! And I don't smoke. The cluprit? Straws!

Now, in addition to the quandry over new wrinkles I had the challenge of finding a suitably large, yet stable beverage container that didn't involve a straw.

And look what I found:

Yep---a pickle jar. Look at it sitting there, stout and sturdy, right next to my computer where I can wrap my hands around it in a mighty grip and chug away. And, instead of recycling, I'll soon have service for 8. Think of the possibilities---little jelly jars for juice, baby food jars (which I don't have) for shots, and big pickle jars for vodka and tonic.

Cheers!

A Chip-tastic Birthday!

2011-01-05T13:13:00.003-04:00

It's here! Pat's birthday. Seems like it comes around every year.

While 2010 was the Year of Cereal, 2011 will be Year of the Chip. As you can tell, the Chinese and their fancy "horse" and "monkey"years got nothin' on Pat. When pressed about if the year was limited to just potato chips, Pat proclaimed (because that's what you do when you are naming a year) that it was ANY chip. Suddenly, the floodgates have opened to include corn, tortilla, and even pickle (looks like she'll be busy).

However, when asked if she would go see the CHIPendale Dancers for her birthday (which will conveniently be in the geographic area), she declared (also what is done when naming a year) that NO, she would NOT go see them.

And why would she? Obviously she's happy with the pickle she's got. What's that saying? "A pickle in hand is worth more than two in a..." Never mind.

Happy Birthday Pat!

The Legend of the Pillow Case

2010-12-29T16:28:00.003-04:00

Years ago someone told me that she always slept on a new pillow case on New Year's Eve because it was supposed to bring prosperity in the new year. Last year, as part of our crafty new year celebration, I suggested decorating our own pillow cases so we bought plain white pillow cases and fabric paint.

That morning Liz attempted to assassinate me with one of her "fresh eggs" and I missed the party. However, my friends decorated a pillow case for me and I (unlike the others, I believe) used my pillow case. It made me happy to go to bed thinking of all the nice things my friends wished for me. There were three wishes for me from my friends in 2010.
1. Love
2. The absence of a person from my life who caused me a great deal of distress
3. Sell a book.

The first item came to pass almost immediately. The second item came to pass in a very dramatic way as well. I won't go into a lot of details, but I will say that Pat is not allowed to decorate pillow cases any more, despite her effectiveness.

The third thing hasn't happened and probably won't since there's only a couple days left in the year and, more importantly, because I didn't write a book.

I stopped using the pillow case this summer because Chris said it sort of creeped him out. But, I wonder if I had continued would I have sold a book?

Happy/Bitter New Year

2010-12-29T15:25:00.003-04:00

It seems that every major media runs their "Year in Review" feature. On the Bitter Train, we constantly review everything, so a full year's worth could be a little overwhelming.

And undocumented.

The most bitter event that I (Lynne) would like to mention is the Jingle Jog. The PSA's promised a t-shirt with jingle bells on it. Jingle Bells! When I brought this to the attention of a couple friends, we all had visions of happy runners making a joyful holiday noise, hopefully covering the cries of pain and heaving gasps of air.

Upon arrival at registration, the absence of any bell sound was deafening. Deafening! No Jingle Bells. None. Fortunately, the three of us wore our Santa Hats. Did I mention it was 1 degree, with wind chill? Soon, I'll post a picture of this happy day.

Fortunately, plarn is still with us. See the Ape? That's where it all began, Baby. Right there in Cave City, KY. I stopped there on my way to Nashville, where the plarn bag had one more adventure. I love my plarn bag - it does fun things and usually I'm along with it.

And what year would be complete without a Christmas gift from Trina? Yes, the same fun gal who brought you the larger-than-life cut out of Uncle Sam and Betsy Ross has a unique eye for cool gifts. Below is this year's "Growme." Look how happy he/it is!

How can one stay bitter with that around?

Merry/Bitter Christmas

2010-12-24T10:12:00.006-04:00

Here on the Bitter train, we talk a lot about being bitter. Most of the time, we're kidding. Bitterness is a choice. Not always a good one. Life is to be embraced. And in that spirit, please enjoy some images of the holidays and a rather poor limerick.

There once was a creepy peeping Tom Santa

Who drank that old soda called Fanta.

But if he only knew, that girl named Sue

Then he wouldn't need so much mylanta.

Sorry, it's the best I could do on short notice.

Random Adoptions

2010-12-09T13:25:00.003-04:00

I have several friends who have gone to China to adopt babies. I think that's wonderful. It's a long process, but it should be. Kids are a long term commitment and they're people. Real human beings who need love and care. Filling out a bunch of paperwork and having a criminal background check seems reasonable.

Dogs, contrary to what many think, are not people. However while trying to adopt one recently, it sure seemed like getting a top secret security clearance would be easier. Humane societies and rescue groups now require applications where you have to tell them what happened to dogs you've had in the past. "Under what circumstances would you return a dog to the agency?" was one question. Some won't let you have one of their dogs unless you have a fenced yard. Most require a reference from a vet. One wanted to visit our house first.

While I'm not opposed to these questions, it occasionally seemed excessive. And, since we are simple people, we just went to the pound. Look who we found:

This is Dooley: The guys at the pound were very nice and helpful, but they didn't ask a bunch of questions and no one seemed interested in visiting our house. Within twenty minutes we'd written a check and left as pet owners. That seems reasonable.

There was another adoption this week that could possibly be cause for concern, though for whom is not yet clear. Our church has several "gifts that give" for Christmas which are based on helping others locally, nationally and globally. One of the possibilities was adopting a senior citizen, usually a church member who is not always able to attend services. Lynne and I decided to adopt one together. We continue to maintain our stance that we are not a couple. All we had to do was put our names on a piece of paper and they gave us the name and address of some poor, unsuspecting woman in Lima.

I have a feeling that 2011 will bring more stories about Dooley and the nice woman in Lima and attempts by Lynne and me to be useful to her.

Stay tuned.

Christmas Fantasy

2010-12-04T19:16:00.008-04:00

If you haven't noticed, Christmas is on the way. Some people get all charged up about this holiday. I'm not one of them.

My ideal Christmas would look something like this: Christmas Eve would include a nice dinner, a trip to church, and then a quiet evening with family and friends drinking wine, listening to Christmas music, and looking at the lights on the Christmas tree.

Christmas day: A nice breakfast, probably including something decadent like fresh cinnamon rolls. Shane would arrive and maybe other family members. We'd eat more of the cinnamon rolls and open gifts. Each person would give a gift to everyone else---one gift that was thoughtful and creative and cost no more than $25. The gifts would show that the giver had put forth more time than money. We'd have a nice meal and then spend the rest of the day relaxing and playing games. Friends would stop by and we'd just enjoy being together.

And of course, all the time before Christmas would be spent relaxing and enjoying the fact that I have time off from my job.

I was going to write here about what I expect to be my reality this year, but I decided, in a rather anti-Bitter Train sort of move, that I'd continue to hold out hope for my fantasy.

What about you?

Good Dessert Gone Bad

2010-11-14T20:05:00.004-04:00

It's cold here in Ohio. Florida is six weeks away (I think). I'm in the process of emptying out my freezer. Today I had homemade pesto (made from my own basil) with pasta - for lunch and dinner. It was particularly good after a week of cabbage soup (lost 3.5 pounds - woohoo!).

After all that garlic, I was jonesing for dessert. I found one last orange pineapple slush in the freezer. See it there? Yay! With great anticipation, I waited for it to thaw. It was taking forever.

Desperate, I scraped off what I could. I tasted it. It was frozen butternut squash.

Now, even more desperate, I needed a squash chaser. But what? Then, I opened the refrigerator.

I free-based Hershey's syrup. It did the trick.

Looks like I'll be back on cabbage soup tomorrow. Don't let this happen to you.

This has been a public service announcement.

Why Friends are Good - make that Awesome

2010-11-06T14:36:00.002-03:00

Because I'm mostly an idiot, I suggested to a local organization, of which I am a board member, that we put on a 5k as a fundraiser. While the idea isn't one of an idiot, I'm an idiot because I know better than to suggest something I'm not willing to plan myself. And that's how I suddenly had the title of "Race Director," much to my dismay and even denial.

Overall, the planning was a bit harried, but going along well. Two women were doing a lot of the work and I fully appreciated it. Three days ago, when it was time for us to stuff goody bags for the runners, I realized I was the only one who thought we were gathering as three people working together toward a common goal. Instead, I encountered coldness, lack of eye contact, and whispered phone calls.

As if I wouldn't notice. Seriously, I'm not THAT big of an idiot.

That's when I, again, realized the value of good friends. First of, most all of the close friends I have in this area I wrangled into volunteering (getting up and leaving your warm bed in the dark of a cold November Saturday....these are special people). Four people in particular took a major chunk of responsibility. When I realized these two "Mean Girls" were creating drama where none need be, I fell back on said friends for sounding and soothing. Of course, they came through for me.

I had two more days to endure with the Mean Girls and their attacks. By this morning, the day of the event, I was somewhat worn, but ready. When my friends came in force to volunteer today, the Mean Girls were impotent.

The face of true friendship and sincerity scared them off like water on the Bad Witch. The event was a success! If the Mean Girls wanted to sniggle and snipe any more at my expense, it was even more obvious they had no grounds for it.

What a comfort to me, to have such wonderful people in my life.

While the Mean Girls merit a scrap of respect for their bitterness, that scrap kills any respect because of their adverse meanness. It's like they even made bitterness bad.

And we won't tolerate that kind of attitude around here...

Dwight Shrute's Are Bigger

2010-11-02T17:21:00.002-03:00

And that's not code.

This is Beet Harvest of 2010. I've never grown beets before, but the plants were free. That's good, because if I'd paid money to grow beets this pathetic, I might be sad. Of course, I don't eat beets, so I still wouldn't be sad.

Notice how the beets fail to impress Carbon.

Bitter Writing

2010-11-02T10:05:00.003-03:00

It's Tuesday, the most bitter of days in a week (perhaps this could be a new poll). It's also Day Two of "National Write a Novel in a Month" challenge. My writing yesterday really stunk. Sue pointed out that NANOWRIMO now records "successful days in a row of writing." This is pressure we simply don't need.

Anyway, my strategy is now "more caffeine." However, this leads to confusion on my part, and I already have a lot of trouble with confusion. I read a blog post this morning that listed items for a snowman that went something like "carrot, coal, and tophat." I spent a lot of time wondering just what a tophat was.

While I was still pondering this, I noticed a school bus stopped outside my home. The little stop sign was out and the driver had opened the door. There are no children here, ma'am. I kept watching, wondering if Dooley had decided to enroll in school. This wouldn't surprise me, since I'm sure he'd like to study nuclear chemistry or macroeconomics. Of course, Dooley would never leave home, so I know that wasn't possible.

There was no one on the bus, and no one got on (two or four legged variety). It is mysterious.

Fun Friday FAQ

2010-10-29T11:30:00.002-03:00

Q: What is Fun Friday?
A: Good question. Fun Friday is a time set aside, primarily for those people like Lynne and me who don't have employer provided health care, but are free to pretty much do as we please on Fridays. It's your reward for putting up with Bitterness for four or more days in a row.

Q: What constitutes a Fun Friday activity?
A: There are no specific rules about Fun Friday, that would take away the fun. However, you should do something that makes the day a tiny bit more special than other days. It often involves food, like going out for lunch or breakfast, or donuts or all three. You should leave your house and, if you can stand it, include at least one other person. If you don't leave home, then you should do something that is a litle bit creative, like trying a new recipe or a craft project. Knitting sweaters into rugs or making laundry detergent would be perfectly acceptable fun Friday stay at home activities.

Q: Are there any Fun Friday rules?
A: As stated above, there are no specific rules for Fun Friday. However, there are a couple of guidelines which you might want to keep in mind. First, you probably should shower first thing in the morning. I've learned from experience that sometimes Fun Friday will take off and last well into the evening. If you aren't showered and you're like me and have hair that really needs some attention on a daily basis, this can lead to some awkward situations. It's also a good idea to have a bit of cash on hand and a full tank of gas. I'd suggest taking care of these items by Thursday night at the latest.

Q: Must Fun Friday be a daytime activity?
A: Well....anyone can go out on Friday night. It takes a special breed to dink around an entire day that most of the world still considers a work day. It is acceptable to extend your Fun Friday activities into the evening to accomodate your leisure-challenged friends. However, putting off your own fun until after 5 pm over a period of time can lead to actually accomplishing other things during the day on Friday which is a direct violation of the Spirit of Fun Friday. Proceed with caution.

Q: Can I exercise on Fun Friday?
A: This is a tricky one. Exercise is discouraged as a Fun Friday activity unless it also includes something fun...so going for a walk in a beautiful Fall or Spring day would be ok. Running is discouraged. A bike ride to the ice cream stand would be a good Fun Friday activity. Bike riding to a root canal would not. When in doubt, sit it out.

Q: Can I clean my house on Fun Friday?
A: Only if it is to clear a path to the front door.

I hope you have found this helpful. Please feel free to submit your own questions about Fun Friday.

I Throw My Hands Up in the Air Sometimes

2010-10-27T15:43:00.003-03:00

Why?

Frustration? I touched something hot? I slipped on the ice?

No, because I'm at ZUMBA! It also happens to be the opening line to a zumba song. Last night, Liz made her first ever appearance at zumba. She had a sampling of it at school and apparently got hooked.

She joined me at zumba. She loved it. She said she felt alive and "moving parts that had not moved in decades." So what if she couldn't get all the steps down. I've been going for two months (and five years) and still misstep.

Remember the old movies where couples went out to eat at "supper clubs?" After their sophisticated late night dinners, an orchestra would play and couples would sail across the dance floor.

Later, there was jitterbugging at Arnold's. Then the 60's, which of course ruined everything, particularly couple dancing. Last time I saw Jersey Shore, there was lots of grinding, resulting in sex in the bathrooms, but that is as far from romance as one can get.

Is it a human need to dance? I'm suspecting it is. I know the college students who are 99.9% of the zumba population wonder why us "oldies" are in there. How can I explain that once you're a grown-up, the only dancing you get to do is in your living room?

Creepiest Thing EVER

2010-10-24T18:07:00.004-03:00

Reading the Sunday paper should be relaxing, right? Then I saw this ad among the coupons. Questions: who thought of it, who green lighted it, and who buys it?

A collectible "orangutan toddler doll" made from real vinyl (as opposed to that fake vinyl?).

Seriously, this picture frightened me so I've had to keep it face down on the paper. It actually induces nausea.

When Left to Her Own Devices...

2010-10-23T19:45:00.004-03:00

It's been a hectic few weeks here on the Gold Coast.

You know about Boggle for Breast Cancer. Well, the very next day, there was the first ever pumpkin cook and/or bake off. It was delicious. After it was over, I decided I needed to cut sugar from my diet. For at least a little while. And I managed to lose a pound within three days. Yes, healthy eating...salads, smoothies, and cabbage soup.

It's Saturday. I decided early in the day that I really needed a break from all the games, cooking, zumba and yoga. Ocean Breathing wasn't helping. Training for the 5k I'm planning (oh yes, add that to the mix of stuff I have to do), I've been eating pretty well and tonight I decided that for my big Saturday night treat, I'd cook up the bacon that's been in the fridge for awhile.

First of all, I haven't bought bacon forever, let alone make it. I had to look for directions and decided on the oven method, which was 9-12 minutes or until desired doneness. Desired doneness for me ended up being about 25 minutes. I pulled it out of the oven.

Mmmmm....

Mysteriously, it was crispy on top, but the parts that were layered, even a tiny bit, were sort of mushy.

As you will see, that didn't slow me down. Ten minutes later....

I've long suspected I could be a competitive eater if I put my mind to it. It's really a toss up whether I'm bragging or confessing.

All I can say is, the house smells great!

When is 3rd Place Better Than 2nd?

2010-10-16T15:03:00.003-03:00

Answer: When you're bitter.

Today was the Second Annual Boggle for Breast Cancer Competition. Lynne and I got our Bog On and headed to Lima. Last year we had so much fun because we didn't know what to expect or how'd we'd do. We ended up having a great time and bringing home the third place trophy. We giggled with delight the whole way home.

This year, we knew what to expect and we had a fair idea of how we might do against the competition. We both expected more teams, but in fact, there were fewer (could be poor PR or maybe we scared them off).

Also---no zither music this year. Not that it would have mattered to me, but it did throw Lynne off her game last year.

After each round the scores were posted. After round one we got a shout out for being in first place. We felt the bitterness of those around us, but it only spurred us onward to more words.

We continued in the hunt, moving from third to second to first and back to second a couple times. Going into the final round, we had a 30 point lead. No one could catch us and we could feel the thrill of taking home the first place trophy. I wondered if we might need to put the back seat down in Lynne's car in order to get it home.

The final round was a behomoth 10X10 grid of letters. In previous rounds, extra points were awarded for words of 5 letters or more. Imagine our excitement when we found "Bitter" (Lynne underlined it on our answer sheet). But in the final round all words were worth one point each,regardless of size. We filled one sheet, then a second and moved onto a third. The buzzer rang and we turned in our score sheets. The woman who picked them up said "wow, you used three?" We smiled and tried not to get too puffed up.

We waited while the final round was scored by the judges. Some scores were posted, but then they hid the screen so that it would be a surprise. We tried to act nonchalant, but as you know, we are both very chalant. Ok...I'm not really sure that's a word, but we are the opposite of nonchalant, which one might think would be chalant.

The final scores were revealed...we had 911 points for the day...but team "Squeeze Your Boobies" beat us by 30 points and so we settled for second.

What's happened to us? Have we become spoiled celebrities who are no longer satisfied with every day life? How can second place (out of 17 teams) not be good enough? Last year we were thrilled with third, this year, frankly, we were bitter.

On our way out Lynne chatted with one of the judges who told her "You guys had the best words." In the world of word-gamers, that's high praise. Of course, I've always thought that "quality over quantity" argument was just a sad excuse used by losers.

Sigh.

Candy and the Lies It Tells

2010-10-14T15:21:00.004-03:00

When I was a kid, my family ate Chinese food nearly every Sunday after church. No matter what Chinese restaurant we went to, my grandma always ordered the chopped sirloin. That's just an interesting side note. The point is, fortune cookies always rocked. Reading our fortunes out loud was always fun. Then there was the crunchy cookie with its almond-y goodness.

Of course, there are the "bad fortune cookies" that Sue recently found that had sayings such as "your friends don't really like you." The Bitter Train would like to award the "Biddy" in Food Marketing to the bitter fortune cookie. Kudos to you.

Not content to let the Chinese corner the market on food messaging, Dove has their "Promises" line of chocolates.

I say, stick to Bitter chocolates. Who does Dove think they are? I mean, I opened one chocolate and the message on the foil was "Learn from the past but live in the present." Snore. Please? This is wisdom? The next wrapper told me to "Be proud and just run the race, no matter the finish." Really "Joni" in Miami Lakes, Florida? I should run, with a sense of pride, into a brick wall? This is not wisdom. It is tomfoolery (I've been just waiting to use that word).

As you can imagine, the majority of the messages run from the banal to the ridiculous (I won't tell you how many I ate). But what one message really put me over the edge was "Most things you worry about never happen." Yes, this is true. Most of the things that have happened to me I never imagined - it was always so much worse. Thanks, Dove Chocolates, for setting society's sights too darn low.

And just shut up "Kallana" in New York - "He who walks in another's tracks leaves no footprints." Does it not snow in New York? The false optimism of "There are new opportunities around every corner!" doesn't fool me "Toby" in California. Who told you that? Your grandmother?

Perhaps I'll follow "Michelle's" advice from Georgia, "Laugh every day - it's like inner jogging." Because it makes no damn sense.

Road Hazards

2010-10-11T10:40:00.005-03:00

That little yellow thing in the road is why I hate to drive this time of the year.

It is the Woolly Bully. The only insect with a near-wordless theme song.

They are all over the road, moving as slow as a, well, caterpillar. While I don't like to see dead raccoons or deer, they at least have a fighting chance of crossing the road. Not the woolly bully caterpillars. They haven't a chance when they are in the sights of a vehicle. I've swerved to miss them. The idea of them mushing in the tires is just too much for me.

Another poor decision:

Sure, talking or texting on your phone may be a hazard, but what about the Woolly Bully? Shouldn't there be signs for THEM crossing the road? Laws enacted? There must be a better solution than waiting for the first frost.

So close, yet so far...

Yes! Smart Woolly! Smart!

I Love A Parade

2010-10-09T10:41:00.002-03:00

It's homecoming at ONU. That means a parade. And since I live across the street from the school where everyone is lining up, you might say that I have a primo location. And, you'd be right, if I cared. And if I wanted to change out of my pajamas (which I don't). I may just peek at the whole thing out my front window, but frankly, once you've seen one pick up truck full of cheerleaders, you've seen them all.

It's like I'm the Ebenezer Scrooge of Fall. Yay!

Reasons for Insomnia

2010-10-08T09:35:00.000-03:00

Creepy...

Significant Sociological Differences Or The Heart of Darkness

2010-10-02T17:03:00.003-03:00

Sure, this picture has been used before. However, it bears repeating considering the events of today. Frankly, you would not want pictures of what I'm about to tell you.

Liz asked me if I wanted to join her while she ran some errands in Lima and I said yes. I should have stayed home and watched college football. After all, that's always the right decision and I should know that. Amateur mistake, forgive me.

We go to Stites, the best scratch and dent grocery store for finding such bargains as five pounds of grits for a dollar (yes, I bought one - I love grits). It was rather crowded today, being the day after government checks arrived. There are always some interesting people loading their carts (or two) with frozen pizza rolls, oyster crackers (10 bags for $1), and pretty much anything with low nutritional value. Sadly, many of the shoppers on this day also looked like their diet never included fresh vegetables. Were they embarrassed by this? No. They have vanity license plates proudly touting it. In the parking lot, a van was parked in the handicap space with "FAT MAMA" on the plates.

Fortunately, we had a respite from weirdness at Tractor Supply, where Liz bought a salt cube for her goats (no really, that is not weird - although I didn't know that deer salt licks and goat salt licks are two different things).

Then, we went to Ray's. All this excitement meant we needed to use the Ladies Room, emphasis on LADIES. When we walked into the two stall room, a young girl was washing her hands. In the stall closest to the door, we saw adult-sized fleece pajama bottoms around the ankles of the occupant. And because that wasn't icky enough, she was on her cell phone. We knew this because the caller was on speaker phone and all of us could hear the incessant yammering of the woman friend with her slight Kentucky accent. The stall occupant occasionally said, "yeah" or "uh-huh." If we weren't so appalled, we probably would have busted out laughing.

Sue pointed out that I seem to have a pattern of unfortunate public restroom incidents (all of which seem to be documented on this blog). This is true. Of course, unlike her, I've never had to inform the agent at the Michigan Welcome Center that there was a "(wo)man down" on the floor of their public ladies room.

There seems to be epidemic of ickiness.

I'd ask you to share your public restroom stories, but frankly, I'm still queasy. I think I'll go take a shower. Then, I'm never leaving the house again.

The horror...the horror...

Observations from a Road Trip

2010-09-26T19:44:00.003-03:00

Yesterday morning, I packed up (covertly packed, so my dog wouldn't puke at the sight of a suitcase - it's not pretty) my car and left for a quick visit to see Julie in PA. A mere fifteen minutes from my destination, I took a wrong turn and ended up driving through Amish country. Once I finally figured out what I did wrong, I turned around. Pulling into the nearest driveway, I noticed a man peeking out from the door frame of the barn.

It was Mose. Mose Schrute, Dwight's brother. Would he run really fast, arms straight at his side, and jump in my car? Throw beets at me? Should I take him to Hardin County for diversifying the gene pool of our Amish? Should I eat the thrown beets? Fortunately, I was able to quickly turn around (it wasn't a high traffic area).

Finding my correct path, I made it to my destination and had a nice time. After all, how can you not have fun at a Mexican restaurant in Western Pennsylvania with a Russian Exchange student, a Kenyan college student and a little girl from China?

Returning home (on all the correct roads), I was zipping down Interstate 71, somewhere around milemarker 200 and 195, and saw a commotion on the overpass. It was two Amish buggies, facing each other, with one horse seeming very indignant about the encounter. Traffic on the bridge was backed up. As I drove under the bridge, I saw one buggy driver getting out. Looking (carefully) in my rear view mirror, the driver turned his buggy around and headed the other way across the bridge. Amish Traffic Jam. Who knew?

As you can see, it wasn't really an eventful road trip, and that's good. It's nice that the Amish had all that excitement. However, I must make mention of the one vanity plate I saw. "PHD IN ED" Puke.

In other news, the housecoats are back in the stores! I'm pretty sure it's Sue's fashion trendiness that has brought them back.

(Don't) Take Me to the Fair

2010-09-11T13:55:00.008-03:00

When Queen Guinevere sang to Sir Lionel the following lines:
"Then you may take me to the fair
If you do all the things you promise
In fact, my heart would break should you not take me to the fair"
She did NOT have the Hardin County Fair in mind. If she did, she would have requested Sir Lionel let her mount his steed (not code) to flee the state.

The above scene is one that you'd expect. It's so wholesome. Youth working hard all summer to raise an animal, providing carefully for its care, grooming it meticulously. While I don't know how they get past it's inevitable "demise" at the butcher's after all that work, their efforts are admirable.

4-H kids work hard. They have to obey all the rules, including these:

There are also fun things to do at the fair, and you hope those hard working 4-H kids take a break. Look at the aqua gerbil attraction we saw this year:

These kids were having a blast.

Yet, there are different kids who go to the fair. They seem to lack the focus, responsibility and stamina of the 4-H kids:

Look closely. See those? Yes, those are cigarettes in their youthful hands. It was one of the saddest sights you could witness. This is like a promise that by the time they are old enough to drive, they'll have their very own well-developed smoker's hack.

They won't have the stamina to walk around the fair without the aid of their own oxygen tank (we saw a lot of those - there is a lot of handicap parking at the fair). Fortunately, there will be many benches for them to rest and resuscitate.

As Sue, Pat and I observed the sights, sounds, and frightfully mysterious smells of the fair, one of them said something deeply profound. "The Hardin County Fair doesn't have a side show with freaks on display. You can just sit here and watch them go by for free."

Well said. And true. A trip to the fair makes me want to eat all vegetables and spend a lot of time on the treadmill. And moisturize.

A Quandry

2010-09-09T14:35:00.007-03:00

Hanging out with Lynne is incredibly fun. If you've had the chance to spend time with her, I know you agree. I'd say that I'm an expert in hanging out with Lynne and it's one of my favorite things.

However, I'm starting to question the wisdom of going out in public with her. Is it because she sometimes makes fun of clothes in stores?

Absolutely not! That's part of her charm.

No, it's the gruesome dog death stories.

I first became aware of this a year or two ago at the Harvest and Herb Fest here in Ada. We made the mistake of having a booth. I forget what we were hawking at the time, but there we were, trapped behind a folding table, vulnerable to all who passed by. Mostly we were able to smile and be nice, though she's better at it than I am (hold your comments).

Seems reasonable enough...but then it started...gradually at first and then it built up to a cacophay of gore.

People would stop by and say hello to Lynne. Easy enough. But then she'd ask about their dog. If the dog was still living, we were forced to listen to endless prattle about the dog's antics. I thought that was bad enough, but then the stories switched from "You should see how cute it is when Fluffy carries around my slippers" to "We...sniff....lost Scruffie. Eight months ago. It started with him not being able to stand up long enough to go to the bathroom, so I had to hold him while he did his business. That lasted for two months, then he started having gastric problems. Oh, you wouldn't believe the mess that caused." And it went on and on and on from there. In gruesome detail. Lynne was sympathetic and said things like "oh, what a shame. He was a nice dog." I pretended I had a cell phone call.

So, we just don't rent festival space any more. Problem solved.

Wrong.

This morning we stopped by a business in Lima and Lynne said to a woman there "Didn't you have a dog named Rusty (not his real name)."

Almost instantly the woman's eyes filled with tears. "Yes...we lost him a few months ago..." and then she started with the details.

To her credit, Lynne has gotten better at getting out of these situations. Not having a folding table around also helps.

I'd hate to miss out on our adventurs (especially since today she bought me breakfast at IHOP), so I'm thinking that we just need to have a few rules/guidelines and possibly some hand signals. My other plan is to just start coughing uncontrollably when these things happen since that's distracting and sometimes frightening. Or maybe I'll try to top their gruesome dead dog stories with some of my own.

"Shoes are the Enemy" and other thoughts on the End of Summer

2010-09-06T19:34:00.002-03:00

"Shoes are the Enemy!" my doctor told me after I'd been in for an infected toe.

I'd always suspected as much. As a kid, I went barefoot all summer, and had the callouses and black-bottomed feet to prove it. After more than my share of bee stings while going barefoot through the clover, I'm more cautious now (though I still managed to get a nasty bee sting last month).

This summer has been one of the best I've had for a long time - I got to see lots of friends, Sue went and got herself all married, and the weather was extra warm - just the way I like it. I read a lot and ate a lot of ice cream.

It's Labor Day. The word work in Hebrew is "abad," which means "to serve." This definition is not limited to serving each and every person around us in humility, but also to serve ALL of creation. Radical thoughts.

Not so radical was the ice cream man speeding down my road at 60 miles per hour as Music Box Dancer blared. Guess that means summer's over.

The garden is so overgrown that picking tomatoes has turned into a game that is some hybrid of Twister (don't step on the potato stalk) and Jenga (pick that little red tomato in the back without going through the spider web). Summer's over.

Just now, as I heard the last of the hummingbird's zooming by for nectar, the neighbor was out with his gun for a little target practice (not at the hummingbirds). Yep, Summer's over.

The popular saying is that all good things must come to an end. I've never really believed this. After all, I've still got ice cream in the freezer. And I refuse to put away the sandals just yet.

"Shoes are the Enemy!"

What was the best part of your summer? Did you get any bee stings? What's your plan to survive Fall and Winter with happiness??

Phrases I Hate

2010-09-01T18:14:00.003-03:00

"Daylight's a failin' us and we got to chop more wood for the fire. Let's quit yappin' and get 'er done." Said Tex.

Except more people than Tex say "get 'er done." It's annoying and possibly even offensive. Who exactly is "'er"? Is it supposed to be "her"? Eww!

And what exactly does "it is what it is" supposed to do for me, besides want to slap someone upside the head? Yes, annoying phrases seem to bring out the violent femme within.

While these phrases are annoying, they aren't nearly as soul-splitting as the sound of Tilly running around the house with her Kooky Chicken Swim Party Squeeky Toy.

What phrases put you over the edge? What is the worst pet toy ever?

Who Keeps the Crockpot?

2010-08-25T18:11:00.003-03:00

Perhaps some of you are wondering how I (Lynne) am faring with Sue's marriage and subsequent moving out. Well, into every life of bitterness, a little happiness must fall, and I'm so darn happy for her, I can hardly stand it. I mean eventually Shirley and Carmine Ragusa got together. Laverne wasn't left wandering the earth with Lenny and his (L)One Wolf jacket not unlike the Hulk (different tv show, same generation).

If anything, much can be said for "ending on a win." It was a successful roommate venture. Dooley the cat, however, may be bitter. It's really hard to tell from that expression on his face.

Liz bought me my very own crockpot, so no fighting over that. Splitting up the Sam's Club giant box of toilet paper, though, is just a little weird to pack up and move. Yet, I plan to leave it on her doorstep if she's not answering the door (she IS married, you know). And, if it's not raining. Maybe I should TP the little tree in her front yard, just as a kind of celebration.

Yet, Sue will miss living out here on the Gold Coast. Who wouldn't miss Tilly and Foster playing "the Barking Game" at 6:30 a.m.? Being woken at 4 a.m. to Olive's hairballs (pre and post)? And the basement. I KNOW she's going to miss the basement.

I will miss Sue. I mean, I never knew someone could drink that much tea (see above for tp quantity purchases). And she did the dishes so I didn't have to. Then there's the cool white bowls she used (that I'm still using - I'm hoping she'll forget them).

Most importantly, who's going to help me eat all those tomatoes in the garden?! The dogs? NO! Olive? NO (but maybe a solution to the hairball problem).

Perhaps I will just have to take some to her house for her and her new hubby to enjoy. After all, sharing, whether NEAR or FAR (see Grover), is what makes life more fun. And less bitter.

A Toast ...

2010-08-19T10:36:00.009-03:00

To a day without bitterness. And many more to follow. [I know those aren't complete sentences. Get off my back.]

That's my freckly hand in the foreground. Can you see the wedding ring? Yep. Got married. See the guy in the black robe? That's the judge. He did the marryin'.

It was perfect. I don't know how those "Say Yes To The Dress People" get through wedding planning. It was making me crazy. Besides, it was really fun to get people's reactions when we told them we were married.

Here are some of the highlights of the whole process:

Picking out my wedding dress from a street vendor when I went to the Celtic Fest with Lynne.
Who needs a fancy dressing room when there's a cubicle made out of blankets?

I haven't been to the probate court for about three years but when we went in to get the license, the clerk recognized me and a few minutes later the judge came out to congratulate us. He offered to do the honors right there. It was tempting, but then I was afraid that Lynne wouldn't make the almond cake, so we declined.

The other highlight of the trip to the probate court was raising our right hands and swearing that we "weren't intoxicated, did not have a communicable form of syphyllis and were not more closely related than second cousins". Fortunately, we passed.

On the appointed day (last Saturday) Lynne and Shane arrived. Lynne brought cake. Then the judge (not the probate judge, but Ada's own Judge Grimslid who lives around the corner) arrived wearing a baseball cap (due to rain). He took off the cap and put on his robe and the event began.

For some reason, the judge had written my son's name on the vow's instead of my fiance's. It was a little freaky to hear "Do you Shane take Sue..." finally the judge stopped the proceedings, got a pen and corrected the vows.

And now it's official!

We're at "Marriage: Day Five".

And we're very happy.

If THAT is in My Pond, Then Why do I Swim in it?

2010-08-12T14:03:00.003-03:00

While not an adequately scary picture, that's one HUGE catfish. For perspective, those little white things around it are oyster crackers. Yeah. Now you're scared. There's also gnarly bumps on its head, not unlike a shark. Maybe more like a manatee, but they aren't scary.

Why are there oyster crackers in my pond? After all, they aren't made of oysters. In addition to the oldest, biggest catfish in the world, there are three very large grass carp. Since it's been such a dry summer and they've eaten every last pond weed, they've started on my water lillies. Now that's a problem. SO I've fed them crackers and thrown random weeds in the pond for them to eat.

Perhaps the greater question is why would I want to swim in a pond with soggy crackers, dead weeds AND huge fish.

Sometimes I'm a Pinhead

2010-08-09T14:47:00.002-03:00

Last week, I sat outside on the porch for dinner. The weather was perfect and my plate was filled with baked green tomatoes and I had a glass of wine in hand. After a few bites, an annoying mechanical noise filled my ears.

At first, I wondered if it might be a passing city vehicle with its alarm going off (not that I'm near a city, but that's what it sounded like). Perhaps one of the cats had been abducted by aliens who reprogrammed its meow. Or, maybe the neighbors had an ATM in their driveway.

Yes, it really sounded like an ATM. I got up to look at the neighbors' driveways when I passed by my back patio door. The noise was louder.

It was coming from inside.

It was my oven.

The timer had gone off and apparently there's a button for turning off the timer instead of it just stopping like normal timers. To be fair, it's a new oven, and when my tomatoes were done, I just took them out, figuring the timer would take care of itself. Fifteen minutes later, the timer was still going off. Yes, it took me fifteen minutes to figure out that the neighbors did not get an ATM.

Sure, that's embarrassing, but there's more.

This past Saturday night, I went to a local grocery store to pick up a few things. A rather cute guy was in the store and I saw him a few times as I shopped, but figured he was way too young for me.

He ends up behind me in the checkout lane. As I put my meager items on the conveyor belt, I wondered what he might be thinking of them. What does one think of a single woman on a Saturday night buying yogurt, one orange, one onion and 12 cans of cat food (they were on sale!)? Uh-huh.

Then some guys got behind him and they seemed to know each other and were yucking it up and joking. I turned to smile at their jokes. THEY were buying two twelve packs of Leinenkugel. My favorite beer. And then there's me, single-Saturday-night-12-cans-of-cat-food-buyer.

I paid for my groceries and went to the parking lot. Since my little black pick up truck had not been driven for a while, I got in it. I started it up, resulting in the usual puff of blue smoke. I looked over my shoulder to make sure I didn't run anyone over. I noticed the cute guy. In the puff of blue smoke.

He walked around the back of the truck and then by me, in the driver's seat. I waved politely. He waved back.

Then he got in his shiny black Hummer. (not code)

And, just for documentation purposes of further pin-headedness, a week and a half ago, I went through McDonald's drive-through. The conversation went something (or maybe exactly) like this:

"Welcome to McDonald's may I take your order?"

"Yes, I'd like a small medium coffee with-"

"What?"

(louder) "I'D LIKE A SMALL MEDIUM COFFEE WITH-"

"Ma'am, you keep saying 'small medium.' Which do you want?"

Obviously, what I needed was a HUGE coffee.

The Big Reveal - Gold Coast Gothic

2010-08-02T13:51:00.003-03:00

Remember Trina's project for the 4th on the 5th party? There was a promise for full pictures. Finally, you can see it. Here's before - a blank slate that Liz helped put together:

Ta Da!!! Insert head here! Photo opps abound!

Now people really will vacation along the Gold Coast! Trina's title for it is: "I Want YOU to have a Burger."

The Big Big Lots Adventure

2010-07-27T15:00:00.002-03:00

Today I became a member of the Big Lots Buzz Club. It does not involve a secret handshake, but eventually I'll get 20% off something.

Trina, the apparent winner of the essay contest allowing her to experience the Gold Coast of Hardin County firsthand, needed a few supplies for her last day of rest and relaxation. As we set out this morning, the plan was to get Diet Coke and puzzle books, then to stop by our favorite scratch and dent grocery store.

Instead, we spent entirely too much money at the brand spankin' new Big Lots nearby. It seems I bought something from every department: housewares - a new toilet seat cover (as the one I had spontaneously lost elasticity, not unlike my very own waistline); grocery - dijon mustard at a bargain price; beauty - cocoa butter, face masks and new weird hair clamps (my hair now looks like something from a Dr. Seuss book); pets - two lambswool dog toys - there's a whole lot of squeakin' goin' on. Then there was the Mr. Clean Collector's edition of cleaning products. I suppose this means I must use them...

However, the highlight was Literature. Or maybe it should just be "books." I found the autobiography of the real Marcia Brady. It has rocketed to the top of the book pile for next read. She's the big sister I never had, not destroying my self-esteem with her perfection and boy-magnetism.

Trina found THE BEST BOOK EVER: "Bitter with Baggage Seeks Same: The Life and Times of Some Chickens." It has everything!! Bitterness! Chickens! And Dioramas!!! My fingers are trembling as I write...how could something so all encompassing be only $5?!

Yet that is the beauty of the blogosphere - you now know too. You are no longer deprived.

This has been a public service message from the Bitter Train.

Yeast: Good in Bread, Not Bed

2010-07-23T16:18:00.005-03:00

This is a picture of the last slice of my new favorite bread:

It's tomato basil bread from Panera. It might even have some sourdough in it, making it even BETTER! If you are a frequent reader of this blog, you may wonder if that is the same darn watermelon in every picture but it is not. This is not the watermelon for the July 4th fete and it is not the watermelon for watermelon's sake watermelon. This watermelon will be made into watermelon lemonade. Yes, it is fantastic.

But that's not what I wanted to tell you. We're talking about this bread. I bought the loaf, which is HUGE for the purpose of having with corn on the cob - butter the bread, put corn on the bread, cover corn, salt corn, eat corn. Eat melted butter with salt on the bread. It's awesome. The rest of the bread has gone toward daubing up salad dressing. The best feta salad dressing in the WORLD!

There they are together. Aren't they beautiful?

Many ingredients make bread wonderful. Without yeast however, it'd just be unleavened bread. While I'm all for manna, it sounded a bit more crunchy. You could hardly butter it up and use it on corn. You couldn't dip it in salad.

Yeast has its place.

It is not in the bedroom.

Recently (as in fifteen minutes ago), I told the story of my husband and how he was a really great home-brewer. He once made a phenomenal batch of mead. He used champagne yeast. However, when it was cold, he'd worry the yeast packet would not stay warm enough. One night, I was getting in bed and there was a lump under the covers. It was not a cat. I asked my husband about it. "Oh that? It's the yeast packet."

I got out of the bed. I then explained to him how women feel about yeast. It is our enemy. We do not like it around us anywhere, particularly at night, in our beds.

I don't think he understood. Only women can appreciate that yeast has its place.

It is not in the bedroom.

I (heart) the Gold Coast

2010-07-22T11:41:00.002-03:00

Perhaps there should be an essay contest for "Why I (heart) the Gold Coast."

But I might win. Since I already have the privilege of living here, it wouldn't be fair to others.

Nearly every day, I walk the dogs down the road. As regular readers of this blog will note, interesting things happen on the road. There's the time Sue got chased by Spanky while he had a dead squirrel in his mouth. Or the giant glass pickle jar we found (which is still there). That and many dead things make every walk an adventure.

Today, I am happy to report, was no exception. The first mile was uneventful. It was about 80 degrees and it was just starting to get uncomfortable. Before I turned around to head home, a neighbor came out carrying a plastic grocery store bag filled with "something." The possibilities were dazzling my mind. It was sweet corn - that treasure trove of Ohio goodness. Fresh picked. Today.

He set it on the ground, thinking I'd be walking a bit further. I thanked him profusely and then his giant dog, resembling a very cute furry keg, ambled over to sniff Foster and Tilly. Fortunately, Foster did not start a fight. I had not yet retrieved the bag of corn, and if there was a dog fight, the offer may have been rescinded. I learned the dog's name was "Teddy" (or Ted-D). I worried Teddy was going to pee on the bag of corn. He didn't. Foster did (but only a little).

Maybe it was the McDonald's mocha frappe I had earlier (I had a coupon for a free one - woohoo!), or maybe the two hashbrowns I bought to go with it so I didn't look like a mooch, but that bag of corn suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. I switched to the other hand, the one with the leashes in it. It didn't help.

About that time, I got to another neighbor's driveway, in which a sport utility's engine was running, with a young girl screaming at the young man who had come out of the house. Lots of f-bombs dropping, left and right. And of course, there's me, ambling by with my dogs and dozen ears of free sweet corn. It was hard to look nonchalant. It was also hard to hear every word, which I wanted to hear! From what I gathered, she didn't want to be his friend any more. Ever. Or something like that.

With relief, I passed the house. Only a half mile more to mine. Ugh. Not too much later, the sport ute and driver went zipping by, still yelling, with the young man in the passenger side.

It's entirely possible that this was a sweaty mirage, imagined by the high humidity. Gotta go - I have corn to boil.

Do You Resemble Produce?

2010-07-16T11:40:00.003-03:00

An old lady collected potato chips with interesting shapes, like Jay Leno. This is funny.

Being pear shaped or apple shaped has a bearing on your health. Not so funny.

Recently a friend, who will remain nameless, joined a work-out place. Signing in came with the joys of having her measurements taken. This is fun when you're going to be a bridesmaid. It's not fun when you are having it done because you're trying to change the numbers.

Of course, our friend didn't know the kindly woman who carefully measured her. She did recite the findings to said friend. Said friend noted that all numbers seemed pretty much the same, prompting her to blurt, "I knew I was shaped like a brussel sprout!"

The measurement woman was taken aback. Apparently our friend was the first to match her shape with a fruit or vegetable outside the norm.

And one must be careful with produce comparisons. Just yesterday, an old man who likes to fish in my pond (not code) brought cucumbers and zucchini out of his garden to thank me. Why yes, reaching into the back of the truck to retrieve these items was creepy.

One must simply have a sense of humor when dealing with the fruit and vegetables of the world.

Bitter Betrothal...

2010-07-13T23:06:00.004-03:00

Look:
I'm engaged! It's true...and I have a beautiful ring to prove it. I'm very happy and often find myself smiling when all alone as if I were the village idiot. Being engaged has been very fun since our friends and family are very happy for us.

However, there have been a few comments, which, though possibly well meaning just haven't come off too well. For example, is it really necessary to say things like: "Good for you---continuing to believe there is happiness despite the previous two!"

Or "Of course, I'll be at the wedding. I made it to the first two didn't I?"

Or (upon hearing that Chris is moving into my house) "Have you thought about selling that place and getting something nicer?"

Or "Are you changing your name....again???"

And, my personal favorite (from my son) "This is you and Chris, right? Not you and Lynne?"

Ain't love grand?

The Fourth on the Fifth

2010-07-10T13:23:00.005-03:00

If you saw the previous post about the watermelon and the July 4th get together, then you'll be happy to know that the melon was a darn good floater. When thrown in the pond, it sank down, then popped up with a pleasing splash. Yet somehow, I missed when it fell apart and the ceremonial "flinging of the pieces" took place.

The other news at this year's event is that Trina was extremely ambitious and created a fun "piece" for all to enjoy. The pictures of her are the artist in action, followed by Liz, who gives a nice preview as it was in development. The full picture will be disclosed soon, but you really need to work up to it. Let's just say "it's a keeper."

The Wagner 8 brought a special guest this year. No, it wasn't one of the girls' boyfriends, though they were in tow. Meet Millie:
She's a mini pot-bellied pig and she was the hit of the party (except to Foster). After all the Charlotte's Web and Pork-related jokes (there were many), she still wanted to hang out with us. In the picture, she's sniffing the "Kooky Chicken Swim Party" squeek toy that Trina brought (I think for the dogs, but I like it quite a bit myself). We admired the pig's spunk, particularly when she got tired of Foster barking smack at her and she attacked him, shocking him, and giving us a laugh. She also was particularly cute when she rolled in the sand, then suddenly shoot off in some random direction, prompting yells of "Speed Pig!"

Yeah, we know how to party.

What's Your July 4th Tradition?

2010-07-02T09:12:00.002-03:00

Sure, watermelon may be part of your July 4th picnic. It is at my house too. But, it's not what you think.

The ceremonial watermelon doubles as flotation device as well as a tasty snack. Yes, as my friends' children pour into the pond, the watermelon does as well.

Last year, sadly, the watermelon broke. Yet, the ever enterprising children made do by throwing the pieces at each other. My dogs helped on clean up duty (my clean up duty after them wasn't so pretty).

The Bees Knees

2010-06-26T21:54:00.002-03:00

Honey Bees made a home in the foundation of my home. It is not a compliment.

As Sue said, "Everyone wants to live here!"

However, bees and four cats and two dogs don't mix (not to mention the humans).

Thanks to the world wide web, I did some investigating about honey bees in the home. It would seem that experts agree that bees and humans don't live together in the same place very well. That's probably why people aren't trying to live in hives.

One aspect of the article did disturb me though, which was the section helping me to identify the type of bee. Here is what I read:

"Honey bees are characterized by the presence of a long, pointed tongue, social habit, front wings with three closed submarginal cells, and no spurs at the tips of the hind Tibiae (4th segment of the insect's leg)."

Considering the bees were in a swarm, I'm not sure how I was supposed to ask them to "open up and say 'ahh'" to determine their tongue shape or see if there are spurs (whatever THOSE are) on the 4th segment of its leg (what if it was on the third?). And just how does one figure out the social habit of a honey bee? "Hey, drone, come here often?"

Fortunately, when I woke up this morning, there was no more activity near the crevice where they'd been swarming. Maybe word got back to the queen as to the condition of my basement. Or maybe they don't like a western exposure. Either way, they are gone and I'm grateful. Though maybe, just a little, I feel a touch of rejection.

County Fair Special Guest: The Giant Inflatable Colon

2010-06-25T12:03:00.003-03:00

This morning as I was reading the paper, I came upon the article that sent me straight upstairs to the bathroom.

No, it was not the call of nature. I had to tell Sue about the article I found. I knocked on the door with great urgency. She was blow drying her hair and I almost scared the poo out of her (if I had, she'd been in the right place).

That's when I told her about the featured guest at the Putnam County Fair: The Giant Inflatable Colon.

Sure, some fairs have the tiki twirl, the world's strongest clown, and chainsaw jugglers. But can they boast of an inflatable colon that people can actually walk through? Why (oh, why) do people have this opportunity? It's a part of the campaign to "Wipe Out Colorectal Cancer." While this most certainly is an important issue that is not very funny, it would win a contest of "Most Unfortunate Use of a Word in a Slogan."

Homemade Everything

2010-06-23T11:25:00.003-03:00

This morning, I threw in a load of laundry. I used homemade laundry soap.

Then, I washed dishes. I used homemade dish detergent.

Frightfully overdue, I got around to brushing my teeth. Yes, with homemade toothpaste.

Soon (but not soon enough), I'll shower and use no shampoo (just baking soda and vinegar), followed by - you got it - homemade deodorant (which works great).

Something tells me I've gone over the edge. I would like to point out that is not me in the photograph. But, I'll be that is a homemade cigarette.

(for a snack, I'll have homegrown raspberries!)

Sights that Compete for the Gold Coast's Attention

2010-06-22T13:49:00.003-03:00

"Look Ma - no hands!"
Poor Handless Jacque, from Mansfield, Ohio. He looks so willing to bring you your hamburger and fry basket, but alas...

"Check that Sock Monkey's Id."
Frankly, I find it disappointing that such a beloved childhood friend would drink Pabst. I really had him pegged for Molson or Leinenkugel.

Dead-Ant

2010-06-20T12:10:00.002-03:00

Who remembers the Blake Edwards theme to the Pink Panther? I watched the Saturday morning cartoons just so I could hear it. The made up words were "Dead ant. Dead ant. Dead ant dead ant dead ant..." etc.

And so it is ant season on the Gold Coast. Normally, the pests show up for about a week each spring. This year, it's been more like a month.

A long, annoying, icky month.

I went to the Hardware Store. The EXPERT there recommended a product - Terro. He said he'd used it himself. Little drops on cardboard are set around the frequented areas and the ants show up. With friends. It's a regular swarm as the ant party feasts on the poison. I was both grossed out and fascinated.

The next day, there were a few meanderers. But, as promised, there are none today! HA!

My favorite part of the product, however, is the labelling. It promises to kill the following kinds of ants: "Argentine ants, ghost ants, cornfield ants, pavement ants, acrobat ants, white footed ants, little black ants, odorous house ants, crazy ants, big headed ants, and other sweet eating ants.

Seriously, did you know there were even that many different types of ants? What about Peruvian ants? Juggling ants? Tiny armed ants?

I swear the people writing that label just started making them up.

I have a dream

2010-06-15T12:35:00.003-03:00

Martin Luther King had a dream. He made a speech about it. It inspired millions and still does. My dreams aren't so much inspirational as they are disturbing. Last night I had a dream that the world was coming to an end. It wasn't too apocolyptic, but I think that I stopped paying some of my bills.

What saved the world? Barney Rubble. He and Jesus won a bowling tournament and as a result the world was saved. I don't know if they were bowling against the devil or not, but Barney and Jesus won.

We like to think that life is very complicated, but really it just boils down to a couple of classics...like bowling and Barney.

Pork Rind Festival 2010

2010-06-11T21:20:00.003-03:00

One of my favorite events that kicks off the summer is the Harrod Pork Rind Festival. It's not because it's super fun (because it's not), but because it's a festival dedicated to something as peculiar as the deep fried skin of a pig. There's also the benefit of it being just down the road. In fact, I was just outside and I could hear the music here.

What music? You might ask. Well let me tell you. When I was there, there was a man singing gospel music. To pre-recorded music. Yes, it was gospel karaoke. I've never seen it before and it was pretty exciting.

I could have left right then and been happy. And, in fact, I left shortly after that, because it takes only about ten minutes to see each and every booth lined up. Since I (along with Pat and Todd) was there after a major thunderstorm (complete with a tornado warning and siren going off!), there were even fewer people and fewer booths.

Yet, it was sad not to experience some of the promised features. This was the first year for "Art that Oinks." Area high school students could enter art of a pig theme (see photo). The paper also featured a scupture of a pig statue of liberty holding a plate of pork rinds. If it wasn't titled "Statue of Pig-erty" it was a missed opportunity. The rain also kept the Cake Wheel from turning. We saw the wheel, we saw some cakes. But not cake wheel action.

The one place I wanted to eat of all the roach coach vendors was the very non-roachy bbq grill. Alas, the rain had kept this man from getting the grill going, so I'd have to wait a half hour for it. None of us could last that long.

Skipping the chili-cook-off (there looked to be only three entrants, another casualty of the storm), we were back in Pat's car and bound for the Dairy Barn. It was Fudge Friday after all, so I was really excited. I wished the high school girl a Happy Fudge Friday but she seemed unimpressed. All she wanted to know was what I wanted to eat. Hardly festive. Pat got the walking taco, which is my favorite in name and also is very tasty. Being in a bbq mood, I got the pork bbq and Todd got the coney dog. Yes, summer is here.

Then, it was on for the observance of Fudge Friday. Todd and I both got the fudge brownie sundae delight (he bought - thanks Todd!). Frankly, I find sundaes to be a bit showy what with their whipped cream peaks and fancy cherry on top. I'm really only interested in the ice cream and sauce is mostly unnecessary (unless it's Dietsch's peanut butter sauce which is AMAZING). Sadly, the brownie of the brownie delight was the meager Little Debbie variety. Lots of sugar, not a lot of flavor.

Overall, it was a perfectly adequate Pork Rind Day - look at everything, but purchase food elsewhere. Yet, there's still tomorrow, when I may run the Pork Rind 5k (if there isn't another thunderstorm). I hope there's a shirt involved. One can't help but wonder if it will be a sleeveless wife-beater type.

Squeal!

Those Shower Optional Days

2010-06-05T18:52:00.002-03:00

There shouldn't be too many of these in the summer. However, some times the day just slips away and you haven't noticed. What I (Lynne) find alarming is my willingness to actually appear in public this way. My base standard is having my teeth brushed and tossing a little cold water on my face.

First, it was ok to see kennel clients with no make-up. Then it crept into other areas. The scratch and dent grocery store, the regular grocery store. The drive-thru window of the bank.

Then I noticed how few people actually do wear much make-up around these parts. It's startling.

But showering, certainly this is counter social mores to skip them, right? As long as I'm not offensive, I'm heading out the door...

You Just Never Know...

2010-06-02T15:06:00.002-03:00

Sure, waiting is a good thing. Not highly valued in our culture, but still it is a good thing.

Sometimes there's no good reason to wait.

That's why Liz got a cool pink kayak for her "big number" birthday, even though it's years away (we won't say how many). You never know if the price of kayaks may some time skyrocket. You never know how someone's health might be. . You never know how your finances are going to be. You never know where friends may disperse over the years. That's why when you see a good deal on a Barbie-pink kayak and you know someone who would love a kayak, you seize the day and buy it.

Friends let other friends kayak.

Old Faithful

2010-05-26T13:56:00.003-03:00

See that?

It's my hairdryer.

My Sunbeam hairdryer.

Why is it getting special attention on this blog? Because it's been serving me and my hair needs for TWENTY-FIVE years! I got it as a birthday gift my freshman year in college. Thinking back on it, perhaps it was a strange gift. But no, it's got to be the best money spent for a small appliance ever.

Me and my Sunbeam have been through a lot together. And a lot of hair "styles-ish."

It's worked great and only recently needed that duct tape added.

My hairdryer makes me smile. It's truly earned it's name, Sunbeam.

Story of the Week

2010-05-25T20:39:00.004-03:00

Actually, it will probably be story of the month. Or story of the season.

Look, it's just a good story, okay?

This is courtesy of Trina. However, the details have been scrambled - not to protect the innocent but because I don't remember what they are.

Some woman was dog-sitting for a co-worker. The co-worker warned the woman that the dog was very old and may die. If the dog did die while the co-worker was overseas, the woman was to take the body to the vet for cremation.

A sad scenario, but I applaud the dog owner for having a thought-out plan.

The dog did die. Fortunately, the woman knew what to do. Get the dog to the vet. Except the woman was in D.C. and had no car. Her choices were hailing a taxi with the dead dog or taking the Metro. While a taxi could still produce a good story, throw in public transportation into a dead dog story and you know you've got a winner.

Carefully the woman packed the rather sizeable dog in a duffle bag (probably a few layers of towels or blankets as well). She put the duffle bag under her seat and hoped for the best as she rode toward the vet's office.

Of all the times for a chatty, inquisitive stranger to make conversation.

"Whatcha got in the bag?"

The woman thought quickly and replied, "Oh, just some old computer parts."

The stranger seemed content with this answer. Until the next stop. At the next stop, the stranger grabbed the woman's duffle bag and ran out the door of the train.

Yes, the stranger stole the dead dog's body.

Flumping Friday

2010-05-21T14:53:00.005-03:00

Fun Friday---you've heard about it, you've read the reports. Secretly (or not so secretly) you've had the jealousy.

But, there's something you need to understand about Fun Friday.

It can be a lot of pressure.

It starts around Wednesday with the nagging thought "What crazy hijinks will we come up with for this week?" Fun Friday activities have included things like making laundry detergent (a full report on that coming soon), shopping at Stites, going out to lunch, and, ice cream. Sometimes we go to the library.

You can understand the dilemma. How do you come up with things to do every week?

Thus, Flumping Friday. An Ode to Doing Nothing. Flumping is a word I learned from Lynne (let's not talk about the words she's learned from me.)

Essentially, Flumping means to do nothing but with the sole purpose of enjoying the nothingness. No guilt allowed. In fact, flumping is a fine art and I'm just a beginner.

It's after two o'clock and I'm still in my pajamas. I've been reading a trashy book. Next on the agenda (all subject to change depending on my slug-level) bathing, TV watching, and more surfing the internet. Oh wait...surfing sounds way too energetic. I'm getting worn out just thinking about it.

Wow... I was going to write more, but I'm exhausted.

English is Confusing

2010-05-19T15:05:00.004-03:00

English is my first, and only, language. I like to think I'm fairly adept in its use. They even let me teach others how to use English to write things like sentences and papers to convey important information.

Yet, I am still confused. For example, when a high school friend gets in touch after at least 10 years of no contact (and the smattering of contact in the 15 years before that was all initated by me...yes, more bitterness) and says "Would love to hear from you" I interpreted that to mean that after receiving (within 72 hours) my newsy update on myself and my family, she'd respond equally promptly. Nope. It's been about 6 weeks (not that I'm counting) and still nothing.

Instead of saying "Would love to hear from you" she should have told the truth. "I've had a couple glasses of wine. I'm feeling sort of nostalgic and lonely, so I thought I'd look up friends from a happier time. Once I sober up and get back to my very important life, I'll wish I hadn't sent this message at all."

But one word I do know and understand....Bitterness!

Desperately Seeking Syrup

2010-05-14T09:09:00.004-03:00

This is Foster:

See how happy he is, totally engaged, wanting to play with that cool blue ball?

Now look at him:

Clearly, his focus has changed. He now has an unhealthy obsession with Mrs. Butterworth. This is understandable.

She's thick AND rich. Doubly delicious. Foster just can't stay away. Perhaps one day Foster will find happiness elsewhere. Until then, he will take his own sweet time...

I (heart) the BMV!

2010-05-12T14:56:00.003-03:00

I do! I really, really do!

Last night, I woke up at 4 a.m. realizing I had not renewed my driver's license. I have no idea what it was that made me remember, nearly three weeks after my birthday, but it sure filled me with angst.

After showering and trying to look sort of put together for the big picture taking moment, I drove off to the local Bureau of Motor Vehicles.

The first great thing about this branch of the BMV is there was NO LINE! One guy was sitting waiting for his picture, so I sailed right up to the clerk and confessed my mistake. She was so nice about it, I was almost happy to pay the $20 fine (almost).

I slung my bag on the counter and found my checkbook. And that's when the magic happened. The clerk and another woman nearby totally loved my bag! And why?

PLARN!

Who doesn't love plarn?! I aced my eye exam, added an extra ten pounds to my weight (so now it's about accurate, as opposed to 4 years ago when I was more optimistic), added nothing to my height, and smiled for my picture. Sure, it took three tries for it to come out as hideous as it did, but now I'm all legal again.

And the new license is pink! How about that?

Happy Mother's Day (2 days late)

2010-05-11T14:25:00.003-03:00

It's celebrated in all kinds of ways, usually flowers, cards, jewelry, etc.

Ice cream.

What more could you want? And when you can't decide, go for the sampler. Featured here are: spouse like a house (Handel's take on chubby hubby), red sky at night (black raspberry ice cream with chocolate truffles), chocolate cheesecake chunk, and chocolate peanut butter brownie.

Party on.

Fun Friday

2010-05-01T14:18:00.002-03:00

Each Friday, we try to do something fun (thus the name). Sometimes it's making homemade laundry detergent (oh yes we did) and sometimes it's just sitting around reading (which is Super Deluxe Fun Friday).

This week, we had Fun Friday Eve (also known as "Thursday Night"). Trina and her son made their way to visit the Gold Coast (actually it was to visit the local college campus but that doesn't sound as enticing). We had a crockpot dinner of fajitas (you know how we feel about the crockpot) and Ty was in a fishing frenzy until we lured (haha) him away with food. Liz and Pat joined us so it turned into quite the little party, complete with Liz doing a spit gag with beer (I'm only saying that because her one daughter reads the blog - hi Hannah!).

Sue flew to the coast for her Fun Friday in Jersey. We missed her, but there's no holding back Fun Friday at Ground Zero. Pat, Trina, Ty and I went to the local scratch and dent grocery store for treasures.

It did not disappoint.

There was an advertised sale (like everything there isn't cheap enough) for soda, so Trina loaded up. There were giant greeting cards on sale for .99 - giant as in 3x2 - complete with giant envelopes. And while we all agreed that past expiration date mayo is a bad idea (there are just some things you want new), misc. finds such as hair scrunchies, little dippers and pizza shells abounded.

Then Pat found something amazing. Not unlike a Big Foot Sighting, there was a bin full of candy cigarettes! Yes, the kind that shoots out powdered sugar when you take a puff!! I didn't even know they sold them anymore. But there they were. Were. Pat bought them out. I'm not sure what her plans for them are. She's a pharmacist after all, so it could be a health concern that she wanted to abolish the entire stock. Or, maybe she plans to utilize them in a pork rind diorama.

We'll keep you posted.

A Gouda Time Was Had By All

2010-04-26T16:09:00.006-03:00

The excitement was boiling over...like a big pot of elbow macaroni. And the competition was sharp...like the cheddar that predominated the entries.

Competitiveness was kept at a low simmer. As the votes were tabulated, everyone was on penne and noodles. Some competitiors spiraled out of control.

Yes, she won Halloween Bingo and now she's the reigning and defending champ of the Mac and Cheese Throwdown....It's Pat.

What crown will she seek (and will I create) next? Suggestions welcome.

Dessicated Frog of Death

2010-04-23T18:54:00.002-03:00

The frog population suffered this winter. No, they are not made from dryer lint. It's the real deal.

Just Another Day at Tractor Supply...

2010-04-14T16:50:00.004-03:00

I am now the proud owner of an EZ Read rain gauge. By default, Sue gets to enjoy it, but I don't think she'll claim ownership. The label claims I will be able to read it from 50 feet away (not with these eyes) AND - it's specially calibrated!!! (squeal!) Exciting isn't it?

Well....that's nothing compared to THIS:

Why yes, that IS the Compost Wizard Junior!

Though the temptation to own my own Peeps (baby chicks) was great, common sense prevailed (chicks and cats don't mix).

Sue got pork rinds. I got beef jerkey (teriyaki). It's been quite a day.

I may need to take a nap.