I Thought It Was Funny!

Surely everyone out there buys cookies, right?  My hubby is a cookie lover.  Must have a cookie after eating, for snack and in general... whenever he so chooses.  Yeah, we're not fitness buffs, does it show?  It certainly does, right around the middle!  We use large glass apothecary jars, for the array of cookies he decides to buy.  One exception to that is Oreo's.  He buys them on a regular basis, but hates putting them in the jars.  Says they don't stay crisp enough.  You know how many of the packages, including Oreo, has the panel on the front, that allows you to peel it back and re-seal it?  A few months ago, my daughter was here while her Dad was making a lunch to take to work.  He comes flying around the corner, in a tizzy, and says, "Look at this!"  He is displaying the tray from the Oreo cookies, showing that some are missing.  He states, "I just opened it, it came this way."  Daughter and I couldn't help but laugh and try to explain the panel on the front of the cookie package and assure him it did not come that way, it had already been partially eaten by my Daughter and grandkids.  He did not seem amused.

Flash forward a few months, to today.  Once again, he is making his lunch, cuts the end of the package open, races to me with it and says the same thing.  Again I explained it to him and reminded him the same thing had happened before.  He most definitely didn't seem amused and was shocked that it was the second time this had happened and he had no memory of the first.  He said he had been holding off opening the bag, thinking it was still full and not wanting to be the first to get in it.  It's nice to know I'm not the only one losing my mind.  What's sad is... both us lunatics live in the same house and may need assistance much sooner than expected.

Changing the subject, I know I've mentioned before, that the main reason I joined blogger, was to be able to follow a couple of friends and leave comments, other than anonymously.  Seems like I no sooner start blogging and they either slack off, or fall off the face of the blogosphere.  I don't think it's my fault?  In the meantime, I have found some wonderful blogs out there.  I've never made much effort to search for new blogs to follow, but have found a few through witty comments they make to blogs I do follow, which in turn has sparked my interest.  There are some really interesting people out there, witty, funny, sarcastic and talented.  I especially like the ones that interact back with the people who take the time to read and make comments to their blog.  Keep up the good work!

To my new followers, "THANK YOU!"  To my not as new followers, "THANK YOU, TOO!"  I'm not very diligent with this, but may be a little bit encouraged to try harder.  Doubt I'll ever be able to post on a daily basis, it's just too overwhelming to hit that PUBLISH POST button and put it out there.  Reminds me of a hospital gown, you know... OVEREXPOSED!

The Affair

My husband is having an affair!  It's been going on for years and years.  Even before we married, he was involved with the "Mistress".  She is his first love.  His affair has effected the entire family.  His wanton ways have rubbed off on his children.  He introduces her to everyone, with no shame whatsoever.  His grown sons applaud his escapades and are following the same path.  He encourages them every chance he gets.  When we first married, he boldly invited her into our home, almost daily.  She was a constant companion on weekends.  She still is an ever-present competition.  I believe if it ever came down to choosing between us, she would win, hands down!  I cannot compete with the joy she brings him.  His mistress... MUSIC!

Discussing the Mistress

My husband collects vinyl LPs and 45's.  It's a passion.  Since my Second Son, a chip off the old block, also collects, I asked him to give me an estimate on the number of records he figures his Dad has.  His guesstimate was 100,000!  Mine was at least 50 to 60,000.  He's probably closer.  

                                      

Now I guess you have an idea why I can't compete with his mistress.  She's had her hooks in him, way too long.  As I'm typing this, she is lulling him with her charms.  I can hear her... the WITCH!

Possums

Many years ago, I was in the pet store, looking for some fish for our tank.  A couple came in with a tiny little creature no bigger than a field mouse.  The woman's father found them in his barn and was killing them.  She only rescued one.  She couldn't keep it and the pet store couldn't take wild animals, so guess who ended up with it?  Yep, I'm a sucker for a baby animal.  He was a real cutie.  Loved Oreo cookies.  

Possums grow pretty darn fast.  We kept him until it was no longer in his or our best interest.  Nor the best interest of our three small Chihuahua's.  Made arrangements with a wildlife rehabilitation facility and my Oldest Son was going to drive him out there.  Never made it.  That possum ended up living at my Dad's house, until he (Poss) died.  He was huge!  Not nearly as cute as when he was little.  In fact, he was downright scary looking.  He could hiss and scare the bejesus right out of you... Poss, not Dad... though he has been know to scare the crap out of me a time or two.  Here's a couple or three cute pictures of "Poss."

 

Recently, I was sitting at my computer in the sunroom and heard a ruckus in the backyard.  Got the flashlight and headed out.  When I first saw it, I thought it was a rat.  It wasn't, it was a young possum.  I had to take a picture.  I had to zoom in, in order to not scare him to death.  Here's a picture.

Today, I walked out back to see the smoke from a large fire, burning at a car dealership across town.  Glanced at the shallow end of the pool at what I assumed was a pile of leaves.  Normally, leaves collect in the deep end... I took a second look.  It wasn't leaves, it was a possum.  The wind was blowing the water so I couldn't get a very clear picture, but I took one, just the same.  Also took one as Hubby was getting him out.

 

  
Not sure if he froze to death or drowned when he couldn't find the stairs.  I hope he didn't suffer long.  He was large and past the cute stage, but didn't deserve to suffer.  None of us ugly creatures deserve to suffer.  Very glad he/she didn't have babies.  That would have been more than I could handle.

January 17, 1977

On this date, 33 years ago, I gave birth to my second son.  Here's wishing him a Very Happy Birthday!  Since I haven't seen him since Christmas Eve, this will be a reminder that... just because you are 33 years old, doesn't give you the excuse that you can neglect your parents!  Remember, if you think you are getting old... think how old your parents are!

Caught with a mouth full...

If you don't show up today, consider yourself up $hit Creek... and don't bother looking for a paddle, cause I'll be beating you with it!  No excuses, 'nuff said.

Yummy!

Think I've mentioned before, I'm not into cooking.  There are things I like to eat, but very few things I can't live without, food-wise.  Eating is more or less something I do, because I have to.  Sure makes it hard for Hubby, he thinks he has to eat every 4 - 6 hours.  I usually go for 12 - 16, without it.  

Yesterday, we had the typical New Years Day meal.  I fixed ham, cornbread, blackeyed peas and cabbage.  For a while, the house smelled like farts for reasons other than flatulence.  I won't bother to discuss anything after that cooking aroma died down, but I'll bet Hubby was grateful he had to work.

By the time 4 or 5 o'clock rolled around today, I was hungry.  Got a wild hair to fix an egg sandwich.  Fixed a beautiful fried egg, laid a slice of cheese on it, put it on toast, then, mashed up some avocado and put it on top and put the other piece of toast on.  Now that was a good sandwich, if I do say so myself.  Within about 30 minutes, my stomach was making some crazy sounds, my cholesterol was rising and my arteries clogging, but that sandwich hit the spot... all of them.  Hubby gets to escape the aftermath, he's working.  I saved you a bite.  It tasted much better than it looks.