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Showing posts with label It Could Only Happen To Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label It Could Only Happen To Me. Show all posts

Sunday, July 9, 2023

Monday Mimisms ~ Powerful Whispers

Where have I been? 
It's been a minute. The entire month of June got away from me. Complications showed up. I took a fall on the porch and spent a few painful days sleeping away the bruises. Friends said, "Rest and heal!" That's sooo hard to do. I'm a terrible patient. I keep pushing through sans common sense. 

Lost my writing mojo for one red hot minute while the anti-inflammatory meds became the most important task of the day - but sorely needed (pun intended).
Finding courage in an antique store
2013 - Revisited this post and reclaimed my writing chops

Then I got off my prissy behind (literally) and started venturing out again.
More thrifting. Lunches with beautiful friends to catch up. Soaking in Epsom. Burning lavender candles in the middle of the day. 


Looking for furniture as I redecorate my house. More gentle house decluttering. All gingerly. Slowly. Mindfully. Thankfully. I came so close to breaking my hip. Ummm....perhaps I should sloooooowwww down instead of thinking I'm a modern version of Laura Ingalls Wilder on the Bloggingham Prairie trying to do things I shouldn't be doing. Getting tangled up in a heavy water hose was NO fun. 

I couldn't sit for long periods of time, which turned out to be a good thing: it made me get outside and wander around. Sunshine and grass under my feet. Good for the soul....and the soles.
Naps happened.

 The Lion spoke ten years ago this spring. 
I remember the sound of the muse. Powerful whispers.
And his roar. I'd like to catch a glimpse of him again. It took falling down to get my attention.  I'm ready for a new set of words.
I'm ready for inspiration from the Lion. 
I wonder if he remembers....

Dusting off my pen and paper...






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Monday, September 26, 2022

Me and My Little Red Wagon ~ Monday Mimisms


It could have been the smell of early morning dew on early morning grass that made me wear a Carolina blue baseball cap, rosy red lipstick and my trusty gold hoops. It was the Sale of the Century and I was out to replenish an already overflowing inventory pile making mountains of clinky-clanky sounds in the castle. Homer is so tired of all the dust and noise. He says he can't sleep late anymore because I'm always disturbing his beauty rest in the dungeon. But back to the sale.

It was 7am on a Saturday morning. I'd been up since 4:00 following a long line of taillights. Thousands of pieces of fancy and functional china in boxes laid out on a parking lot pavement. Oh.my.back.oh.my.back. Soooo beautiful and soooo much to see. And nobody ma'amed me all day long until an overzealous gatekeeper stopped me and my little red wagon to ask (accuse) if I'd paid for the empty boxes in said red wagon. Seriously??? Here's how it went down.


It was my second trip inside (wearing an armband, mind you) when I decided to turn around and go back OUT to the ladies room before I started shopping again. I did so, then re-entered the sale. "Ma'am!!!"
Do I look amused?   
Did the wheel fall out? Did I lose a nail? Did my red grapes fall out on the ground? What?? 

 "Yes?" I turned around to see an angry and accusatory very tall white-haired LOUD man say to all my sassiness, "Did you go to your car, unload your dishes and come back with the same empty boxes without paying for them??!!" It wasn't a question, it was a loud mean accusation. (standing in a crowd of people) The whole world look on. 

You know...it was one of those moments when the teacher-look and the mom-look merged into an indignant look that said I-will-slap-you-silly-if-you-don't-tone-down-that-tone-right-now-old-man as I gazed up at Mount Accuvius ready to call the yard sale police on little 'ole me.  I would never really slap (unless in self-defense) but I have "looks" that could melt anything within 20 feet. Well-cultivated. 
Do I look like a criminal to you?

"Really?" I said. "Absolutely not!!!" And before I could say another word he backed off with a meek weak little tiny sheepish ok 
and I went on my way but it wasn't a merry way. I was miffed. And embarrassed. The nerve! He wouldn't know a Queen or a teapot if it smacked him with a crown. He must have worked for the  military police in a previous life and came back demoted as a yard sale guard. 
What a karmic accident to run into me.  

I wanted to take my little red wagon and go home, but I turned my attention toward a man-in-blue-jeans teapot in the distance and tried to shake it off. Someone finally saw the crown under my hat and I got an apology but this was no way to start my day. Back to the task at hand...
All in all, I had a lot of fun (maskless!) and met some very nice people who chatted with me under a shade tree while we sorted and exchanged dishes. "Oh! are you leaving that one behind? Can I have it?" a lady asked. "Sure. Help yourself." Or "I noticed you were collecting this pattern, do you want these?" Sometimes you'd hear the big crashing sound of someone's box tipping over and breaking all their finds. Everyone would sympathetically and collectively groan in unison while others helped pick up the pieces. Literally.

It was nice to see people being kind to one another (except Mt. Accuvius) and actually helping complete strangers find the patterns they were after.  Red stickers meant "cracked" and orange meant "chipped" but not all were damaged or only on the backside. That's OK with me. You could fill up a 12 x 12 x 12 box for ten dollars. That's a lot of cups and saucers, my friends. This year I tended to pick up bigger pieces. My soul was drawn to bright cheerful colors, deep blues and greens.  I also found Pyrex, cooking bowls, lampshades, figurines, collectible dolls (!) and Christmas ornaments. I'll show you some of my favorite pieces. 

I came home with the peaceful green dishes below, not to sell, but for me. And it was fun to hunt for matching dishes and color patterns to mix and match on the table. I found two Phoenix Bird Nippon Japan plates (see below) some Stangl Pottery and bowls and cups to match my personal collection of Johnson Brothers Devonshire England. Eight boxes and two wagon loads later it was time to take my hat home. I'd caused enough trouble for one day and I had enough inventory for a good long while. It's like Christmas going through the boxes! 
Why did I put my snacks in the bottom 
of the wagon? Banana squished. Water crushed.
peaceful green


Cheerful yellow
Buttercup Faire Meadow by Spode


Phoenix Bird Japan

Stangl Blue pottery. It had a red sticker 
but I can't find any damage. Love it!
 

The hunt is so much fun! This girl is happy and tired. And for the record, Homer....I can go street cred if I need to!


Goodnight John Boy.
It was a good day.



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Monday, September 5, 2022

Monday Mimisms ~ I Need a Maid and Fast!

Everything's OK until I do one of these three things - Hang up clothes on hangers in the closet, wash dishes or type. Apparently I've re-injured a previous situation (feels like shades of a bulging disc) and the rotator cuff tear that keeps on giving.

Several weeks ago I picked up a small case of bottled water in the store and put it in my cart. Ouch. I felt that. Weeks later I'm in so much pain that I'm alternating Tylenol Arthritis and Ibuprofen daily, soaking in the tub and using a heating pad. I'm the type of person who just keeps pushing through even if I'm hurting. When I say "enough" you know it's really way past time to sit down.  If you know me at all, you know I can't tolerate any "real" drug for pain. If I took something like oxycodone or the like, I'd be eternally asleep...perhaps for real!

What's so frustrating is that it's suddenly exacerbated by normal activities. I don't wake up in pain. It doesn't even hurt to walk. It happens when I do the aforementioned things after breakfast (laundry, blogging, dishes, real life). But I knew I might be in trouble when I picked up an egg carton last week (just 12 eggs) and the weight of it caused me to hurt. 



I'll see you on the flipside of tomorrow. Right now I need to quickly post some peace and talk to a few friends online (scratch that) on the PHONE. There's just one problem - it hurts to pick up the phone. Yes, the phone is suddenly "HEAVY"...arggh

Somebody get that dog out of here. 
Where's my heating pad??!!


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Friday, May 21, 2021

Pre-Pandemic Plot Twists



Before the pandemic I did some crazy mirror shopping (no, my legs are not shaped like that......much) and took a lot of pictures of myself taking pictures of myself. All true bloggers know this affliction. I wish I had paid more attention to what the outdoor crystal ball was trying to tell me. It was just before I landed in my own personal mini-pandemic-before-the-pandemic (vile, it was, so vile) and then the whole planet got sick. You've heard of mini strokes? I had a mini-pandemic-before-the-pandemic. Global virus? Pffffft! Please. I dealt with a whole slew of severely malfunctioning people before the first cough coughed. I called it The Plague of Severely Malfunctioning People. It's the underlying cause for all the rest of the plagues in the Holy Bible and on planet Earth as we speak.  People! 
Did I mention people? (not any of you, mind you) Just people. It gave me PPSS (Pre-Pandemic-Stress-Syndrome) and THEN I came down with PPSD (Post-Pandemic-Stress-Disorder) for which there is no cure!  Why? Because people. 
I'm so tired of people. Aren't you tired of people? 
 Still...... I could have used a warning: "Hey Lady! Your reality is about to be distorted!" 
And it was.

 In so many ways.  You can relate, yes?

But adversity makes for good plot-building and great midnight reading. My writing is beginning to gush out of me like a well in the middle of the Sahara AND in the middle of the night. A whole new chapter (maybe a whole new series!) has been practically writing itself in Bloggingham Tales. 
Coming to a bookstore near you...


If you need me, I'll just be here untwisting my legs (no, I haven't had the Covid vaccination yet....that's next week....my legs are fine!...sort of...stop looking, will ya?) If all goes well at the neurologist - who just wants to look at my pencil brain for a minute or two and ask me a few nosy nerdy questions like 'what day is it' and why are you up at 2am writing a blog post? and tap on my temple to see if anybody's home - we'll get that nasty little jab and be done with it. I know. I know... Some of you are hoping it will change my personality back to whatever-NORMAL-is. Pfffftttt!!! A wise man once said to me, "Who wants normal?"  I bought chicken soup and a new box of Tylenol today just for the lobotomy-inducing-vaccine occasion. You're all invited to the after party. Fun times, no? 
Call for a good whine

I'd better write all this turmoil down. Pre and post. 
She's going to want to know why my legs are twisted. 
It's a long story.

Monday, September 14, 2020

Monday Mimisms ~ Meme Madness

Sometimes I like to step away from my serious side and kick up a little silliness. Let's start with a new meme in the blogosphere called Monday Madness. Aren't we all feeling just a tad bit insane these days?  Click here to play along!











1. You are at a party in a very bad mood. There is an obnoxious guest with a camera snapping pictures of everyone in sight. Do you allow the photographs or ask them to stop?

I am the photographer. I've been thrown out of more than one store for doing just that. 
I have learned my lesson. Read the sad tale here.

2. You are on your way to a formal affair and running late. You are the guest speaker at this event and everyone is waiting for you. A police officer pulls you over for speeding. Do you make up a wild excuse or truthfully tell him where you are going and try to talk your way out of the citation? Tell us your tall tale!Wedding, Cufflinks, Black And White, Bow Tie, Tuxedo

**batting big brown eyes** "Officer, I beg your pardon. I'm on my way to speak at the International Society of Law Enforcement Bloggers convention. They told me to bring my camera and....."Oh, so YOU'RE the crazy bookstore lady with the camera. Go on your way. There's a room full of handcuffs waiting..."

The truth will not set you free. 


3. When you drive down memory lane for the last two years of your life and look in the rear-view mirror, do you see a happy journey or a bumpy ride?

I see moments of happiness, but overall more stress than tranquility.  This is not how life should be. This is NOT OK.  I'm working on that. How? By not "working" at happiness. By learning to BE. By surrendering more often and being fully present in the moment. Just BE. Just BE! Just BE!! The only fully alive place is the here and now. 

4.  Who makes you laugh when no one else can?

       I laugh and then I get mad because he made me laugh. I wanted to wallow. Damn him! 

5. What are your superpowers?   Twirling my hair  

6. What is the last thing you memorized?  A license plate number. Don't ask.

7. Tell us something you once took that you wish you could give back?

That bookstore picture

8. The iPhone just gave birth to the next generation of phones. What would you name them? 

      The iLOVEATTENTIONGENERATION

9.  How much mystery should be in a relationship? Is it a good thing or not?

    Keep the mystery, keep the spark

10. What is your weekend blogging routine? 

      I didn't have one until recently. I like being in that groove again. Happy Monday!





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Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Cinderella In De-Nile

I'm not trying to be melodramatic. Realllly, I'm not. But seriously! Can we talk? In the past ten days I've hyper-extended (or seriously torn something) (or seriously dislocated) the thumb of my right hand, which would be the good hand, the one that did not have two broken bones and a torn ligament still in home rehab, the one
I had left that still works!! The joint painfully pops out of place and back in all the time. And how did I do this?;
Because I am apparently Cinderella. 
I had projects to get done this summer. Big projects. Yard projects. Kitchen floor projects. Projects.

I hired someone to do said outside projects.  Now THAT was a catastrophe. You just don't want to know. Suffice to say, I had to finish the mess they started (and never finished) myself. Hence, the thumb is throbbing from the repetitive work.
Have I been to the doctor? No. But I am wearing a thumb splint hoping it will miraculously self-correct and I won't have to go. The swelling has gone down but the pain is awful. So now the broken hand (the left) is more able than the able hand (the right). Call me a walking disaster.

So. Tonight I decide that I am going to forget all this and jump in the lovely Epsom bath salts water that has become my nightly routine. Did you know it's great for your hair too?? And oh! Wash your face in it!

I digress.

About ten minutes into the soothing medicinal water, I hear a medium-size explosion. Yes. Really.

Did I mention the candles? They were burning in the little votive glass holders that are part of my nightly peaceful routine, casting an electric glow on the walls in the dark and soothing River of Epsom that flows through the castle at night aka as my bathroom. One of them got so hot the glass shattered which sent shards of glass flying towards me and all over my naked ambience into a million pieces. I'll bet Cleopatra never had these problems when she bathed in the Nile.

I can't even stay safe in the tub.



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Monday, June 10, 2013

Monday Mimisms ~ Waiting On Vermin


Once upon a time there was a quiet, peaceable kingdom. The Kingdom of Bloggingham. Known for its blue-lighted backdrops, peace globe parties and soothing piano music.;

In the past seven days it has turned into some strange version of the Animal Kingdom. Bedlam! Chaos!
peace be unto the creatures too..." or something like that, said a friend of mine. Bah humbug! (**wait, I didn't mean to say b.u.g. bad luck nix that**) I said that God did not create or ordain rodents. They most certainly stowed away illegally on the Ark. They came from Satan.

One day last weekend I had to turn down the air conditioning in the car because I swear I thought I heard a strange noise to my right - directly to my right by my Queenperson. Strange. Strange. Just a little scratching noise or something. Next day, what is that in the floorboard of my car? It looks dark and small and leftover from the digestive system of some vermin. No, no no...can't be...it is surely part of the dirt that fell out of a plant I had in the floorboard recently. Queen of Denial. That's me. Next day.
Imagine. At the stoplight. Five minutes from work. I lift up my makeup bag to check for a different color in the bottom of the bag 'cause I'm not matching very well (don't you do that at the stoplight?) and I spot what is CLEARLY a violation of some vermin's digestive system deposited squarely where I heard the scratch scratch sound earlier. You do not want to know what I said.







I am phobic. NOW you can stop laughing.
Even though on some level it IS quite amusing, it really is not that amusing....considering I have had no transportation for over a week and this is costing a lot of money. Couple that with the fact that this is not the first time I've had a mouse or whatEVER it is in my car. It has happened to me twice. Twice! How many people do you know who have infestations inside their vehicles twice in one lifetime? Both Toyotas, Lots of people have tried to help. Helpful guys I know have taken the seats out of my car, colleagues made sure I got to and from work, the nurse took my blood pressure a lot, others set traps for me (ummm...no,I am not going back in there)
Oh. Wait.

By.the.grace.of.God.

I was stuck in traffic sandwiched between cars at the longest red light in the history of the Department of Transportation and nowhere to go. Had the blasted thing decided to make an appearance at that moment you would have had yourself an international incident at the stoplight. Trust me. 'Cause somehow somewhere I would have made an exit heretofore unseen or unknown to man or Toyota, possibly installing a sunroof where none had previously been.I toyed with the idea of abandoning ship. But then decided that I would attempt to glue my eyes straight ahead, look neither to the left or right, up or down, sideways or front, round nor round and continue driving at breakneck speed to my parking spot even though the speed limit was 25 miles an hour until touchdown. I unbuckled my seat belt, gripped the steering wheel, held my breath and squinted my eyes barely open enough to even see. It worked in childbirth, it was worth a shot.

I do not know how I didn't kill somebody getting there but that was the longest five minutes of my entire life. And JUST when I was almost home-free and about to turn into the parking lot, the slowest pickup truck I've ever seen came sauntering toward me turning left in front of me driven by a tobacco-spitting farm boy who couldn't shift the gears down correctly, spittin' and sputtering all over the road trying to turn in front of me IN MY WAY as I sat about to expire from sheer terror in my seat That was the only time I stopped gripping the steering wheel to "gesture" him on his way.  
 God forgive me.;


You do not want to know what I said to him.




When I fell out of the car onto the wet pavement (oh, yes, it was raining) and grabbed my lunch satchel (full of peanut butter and carrots no less), my purse (still OPEN from the makeup session) all manner of music and scores and one little baton went presto flying out the door to the count of three. I was truly thankful I did not know I was transporting furry mammals while in the drive-thru line at McDonald's for coffee that morning. It could have been catastrophic.


Help arrives. A nest is discovered under the spare tire. It is removed and brought to me. Oh wait. Where am I? Sitting down. I am drinking coffee and hyperventilating. Not necessarily in that order. Holes are discovered in the leather underneath the emergency brake. Remember that scratch scratch sound?/div>

Dialing. In a catatonic state.

This is the exact conversation I had with the insurance claims lady. Verbatim.

"I'd like to file an insurance claim."
"Is everyone OK?"
"Yes. So far."

"Are there any injuries?"



"Are you sure you're OK?"
"Yes. No. Yes. Well. Not really. Yes."




"There was no accident, ma'am. I am filing a claim for damage to my vehicle."


"By an animal or animals, ma'am. There is a mouse in my car."
**Prim and proper insurance Lady yells "ewwwwwwwwwwwwww"
"My sentiments exactly, ma'am."

"I have never in my whole career heard of this," she said, a line I would hear many times in the coming week, from body shop owners to pest control specialists, to hardware store workers, from the Toyota warranty hotline person to my steady-eddie service mechanic who's known me and my car since conception, from bosses to colleagues, friends and lovers, all saying the same thing, I NEVER HEARD...
OK OK Save it. I get it that I'm an anomaly now. Move on.

The nice lady continued, "I'm sorry but I have to go down this list of questions and ask you....

"How many passengers?" at which point the young lady could contain herself no longer and burst into fits of giggles and apologies.


"Don't you think that is quite enough?"
"Have a nice day, ma'am," she told me and then..."well, TRY to have a nice day."


So there it is.


We are looking at two weeks at least with no transportation. It is covered under comprehensive insurance because it is damage to my vehicle, but FIRST we have to catch the darn thing or things. Only then can the repairs and cleansing fumigation begin. Meanwhile they dance around Toyotaville and wreak havoc in my lovely new car. It was towed...you heard me...towed...to the body shop where they even refuse to allow it into their shop until the vermins are history. My baby car sits alone in an island parking lot shunned and rejected by the other limping cars in need of repair. She must feel so ashamed. I bought a slew of traps and poison and peanut butter and glue traps and Bibles. You buy Bibles in a disaster, don't you? For an entire week, NADA. Not a nibble. Just more digestive evidence. And frankly, I'm tired of the unmitigated gall of this species. They've got some nerve. What kind of educated mice are these??!!! So we wait. At the mercy of vermin.





This afternoon I go to the kitchen window to watch the rain. Cleopatra The Snake has returned. Apparently she's been eating mightily under the porch since I last saw her three weeks ago. I purposely left her there to kill rats!! How could she miss the vermin? I startled her when I ran away to get my camera, either that or she was reaching for her lipstick pouch. When I returned she was slithering up the side of my house. I tried to talk her down but she was not interested in idle chatter. When it stopped raining I went outside and chased her around with the broom for awhile ('cause I'm not afraid of snakes or spiders. Go figure.)S


he's still making camp out on the deck as we blogspeak. I can't kill her. I can't shoo her. Maybe my friend was right. It's time to make peace with the animal kingdom.




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