I’ve got a secret

Posted in Blatherings on 02/08/2010 01:22 pm by Michele

200px-UT-Tower-in-OrangeAll right, all right. Most people know I’m kinda strange; and every Superbowl Sunday I prove it. I don’t watch the Superbowl. There I said it.  I’m putting it out there for everyone to know. When I was growing up my parents were big fans of the Houston Oilers. My mom would have me sit on the couch next to her to watch the game and if they made a good play she’d go buck wild slapping my leg to make sure I saw it. (It got to be a joke in the family that no one wanted to sit next to her during a game.)

I remember my dad took me to the Oilers AFC championship game in December 1960. (I think 1960.)  Mom didn’t want to go because rain was predicted. A drunk guy sitting behind us spilled his bourbon all over my back. Then it started to rain. I sat reeking of bourbon, next to my dad while hunkering under an umbrella. My dad sat there in his raincoat and rain hat. He wouldn’t have been caught dead carrying, or God forbid, using an umbrella. (Back in the early 60’s my dad wasn’t the most evolved person when it came to what was manly and what was not.) I begged to go home as the rain pelted us. Usually I could always get my way with my dad; but not that day. He was resolute. We sat and it rained and rained then it rained some more. That afternoon sucked- a lot. A Houston team has never won, or even played in the Superbowl.

I went to the football games in high school because I was part of the drill team. I played a bugle in the Imperial Guard. Our uniforms were heinous- gray jackets with a gray pleated skirt. We wore gray Roman type helmets that had red brooms on the top. What was I thinking?

The year I was a freshman at UT we won the national championship. The city went wild! I remember being carried on stranger’s shoulders down “The Drag” AKA Guadalupe street after the game. (I was smaller then). Anyway, UT football is almost a religion in Texas and when they win the top of the tower on campus is lit up orange. When they win the national championship the whole tower is lit up orange. You can see the tower from 10 miles away. I still watch Longhorn football.

What I don’t understand though is why someone who has absolutely no attachment to either of the cities in the Superbowl would get so wound up about it. It’s beyond me unless it’s just an excuse to get together with friends, eat a lot of junk food and perhaps drink too much. I know the commercials are cute, but I caught those online this morning. Is there something else going on there that I’m just not seeing?

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Who knew an hourglass could be scary?

Posted in Blatherings on 02/07/2010 06:09 pm by Michele

Evelyn and I are going back to the gym tomorrow. (I think we’ve been a total of two times since the first of the year. ) We’ve had a lot of reasons for not having gone. I wanted to go and she wasn’t up for it; or she could go and I had to work. One day it was cold and rainy, so we didn’t go. They all seemed like good reasons at the time on the days that we didn’t go.  Looking back, not so much. Of course, if I was out of town working, that couldn’t be helped. But I haven’t been out of town since last year. I know I could go by myself. I know I could even just walk the dogs around the block, but I don’t. Why is it just so damn easy to procrastinate? If only there was a pill I could pop to prevent procrastination.

Anyway, tomorrow is the day. I absolutely hate starting back at the gym. Actually I hate it for about the first week. I go there  in my finest gym wear, a pair of old shorts and a t-shirt that way past  it’s prime.  I lumber onto the treadmill, get going and inevitably, some super fit person will hop on to the machine next to me and start running uphill like their pants are on fire. And to just put a cherry on my day, they don’t even sweat!

I wish there were two distinct sections in the gym- a section for those in shape and a section for those trying to get in shape. (It isn’t that I want to be labeled.) I want to freedom to choose what section I go to. But some days it’s just really hard when I’m doing a 15 min mile and the person next to me is doing a 7 min mile. I know, I know, I’m there for me, not for them…blah, blah, blah.

I did see this photo today and got inspired.  I think this is what I’ll work towards. Does she look really crazy or is it just me? This woman,  Cathy Jung, has a 15″ waist. Can you believe that? – 15 ” ! Miss Jung is just too “hourglassy” for me. (Honestly, I think she looks kinda scary.) I think I’ll keep my curves less severe, thank you very much.

cathie jung 550

This is NOT photshopped!

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In the interest of good dental hygiene…

Posted in Blatherings on 02/06/2010 08:55 pm by Michele

vibrator

I just love old ads. (Some of them were ahead of their time.)  I’m sure glad that the Vibra-Finger came with a carrying case. You just never know; my mom might’ve had the urge to “massage her gums” and not be at home. How inconvenient.  To my surprise  Overstock.com still carries this. However, the price now is $54.95; and they are SOLD OUT! (Valentine’s Day gifts must have really depleted their stock.) The old ad said they were “cleansing and refreshing.” The new ad says they “relieve tension” and strangely the words “gum massager” have been eliminated- go figure.

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Taking green down to a whole new level

Posted in Blatherings on 02/05/2010 07:02 pm by Michele

I was looking for something to write about and came across an article on green cemeteries.  These are cemeteries that don’t look like cemeteries. There are no headstones or God forbid, plastic flowers- anywhere. If you are buried at a green cemetery, you’ll have a natural burial; you’ll be buried either in a cloth shroud or a bio-degradable coffin. You’ll also be buried without embalming. Your body will leave this earthly plane just as it came into- with no added preservatives.

green cemetery

Green cemeteries look like parks- natural parks. They don’t have planned gardens, neatly trimmed hedges or paved roads. Plants and flowers grow wild. For the eco-minded person, a green funeral is the ultimate green act. Eventually, your body just goes back to the earth. Some people choose to have natural rock inscribed with their information, some choose nothing at all. Others have a wind chime put up nearby. From what I’ve read each grave has a GPS tag somewhere, so you can be located at a later date if need be. Green cemeteries are not formal places where people speak in hushed tones.

There’s a company in the UK  named Colorful Coffins. They sell an assortment of eco-friendly coffins. Their products are now sold in the US as well. They offer an array of designs.  Or, if you don’t like the designs they offer, they will also help you design one for yourself or a loved one. They even have a model that is 100% recycled cardboard. Some people opt for a plain coffin  for their burial; then their family and friends can decorate the outside for them or write their goodbyes on it.

I decided long ago to be cremated. Although when I was very young and my dad told me that creamation was his wish, I was freaked out; now, as I’ve gotten older,  I realize that’s the way I want to go. At least I think I do. (I’m just not good in confined spaces for a long time.) Of course the way I hate hot flashes, cremation doesn’t always sound like a day at the beach to me either. I’ve known for years though that I didn’t want to go through the whole embalming thing. For now, Doug and I have a mixed marriage. He wants to be buried. (At least that what he says now.)  Yes, I realize that the most important part of me will be in a better place when this is all going down, but still…

I learned as I’ve gotten older that a lot of folks our age really don’t like discussing all this. (Perhaps they think it’s bad luck.) I think it’s good to have at least some kind of plan. I know one thing though- my memorial service is going to be at dog park, with a picnic later. (I just hope I croak at a temperate time of year.)

So there you go. I hope I didn’t bum anyone out before the weekend. However, I find thiswhole concept really interesting. And lest I forget- a natural burial is usually thousands less than going the “traditional” route.  Anyway, it’s something to think about.

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Anyone know where I can rent a tranq gun?

Posted in Blatherings on 02/04/2010 04:26 pm by Michele

Whenever I come home I always do a head count- or perhaps I should say a paw count. Since Daisy is such an escape artist, I have to make sure that the furry kids that were here when I left are still here when I return. (Luckily, when Daisy gets out, she just sits in the front yard and waits for us to return.) She doesn’t want to go anywhere else, she just likes the thrill of the escape. I guess she’s an adrenline junkie. We’ve placed big concrete blocks against the bottom of the fence in an attempt to prevent her escape. However, she still tunnels under the fence like one of the POWS in the movie The Great Escape.

We’ve decided that the only thing we can do to contain her is to dig a trench at the base of the fence and fill it with concrete. So that’s on our agenda, hopefully for next week. When we came home the other night I did my usual count. We were missing someone- Blondie. I called and called for her, but no Blondie. I looked inside, Doug outside, no Blondie. We got a flashlight and looked for holes under the fence or a broken picket- no holes, no broken pickets. The gate was still locked and needed a key to open it.

Now I’m starting to freak out and my calling for Blondie is becoming urgent. (I didn’t think the aliens had beamed her up to their spacecraft after all.) After calling for a couple of more minutes I heard whimpering. I got Doug and we headed towards the sound coming from the garage. Most people have cars in the garage; some have boxes, bikes, BBQ grills and even Christmas trees. This is what I have thanks to my resident hoarder-

garage

(I took this photo today. Believe it or not, it was worse the other night. )

So Doug started climbing into the heart of darkness AKA the garage, trying to find Blondie. Of course, the bulb in the overhead light had burned out long ago; so he was crawling over the clutter in the dark. I was aiming the flashlight towards the whimpering. He finally found her in the garage, on the opposite side right by the big garage door, which of course doesn’t open since the electrician jammed it while opening it last summer. Apparently she’d gone in there, then all the clutter shifted and she had become trapped. Even when he found her, she wouldn’t move- probably for fear that something else would come tumbling down. Doug had to carry her out. (Lucky for Doug she wasn’t hurt.) Blondie was very happy to see me when she was finally extricated.

Blondie doesn’t seem to have suffered any ill effects from her experience. However, she does now seem to prefer being in somewhat confined spaces. She makes her bed during the day in an Elfa drawer at the right of my desk; and at night, she now likes to sleep in the corner closet in our little home office.

blondie 001

Now I make sure that the door to the garage is ALWAYS closed; at least til I can get Doug in there with a steam shovel and a dumpster nearby. (Of course he may have to be darted before we start to clean.) Anyone know where I can rent a tranq gun?

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