Embrace the Bacongal, and what ever I'm itching to say !

Brought to you by Bacongal If you drive a Prius, good for you, but if you live in a 3500 sqf home and keep it at 72 degrees year round, your carbon footprint is not offset by the car you drive.  Remember this as you look down your nose at other cars. John Kitzhaber cut your losses and kick Cylvia to the curb.  If you were a semi-retired Emergency room Doc from Bend she would not be sharing your bed.  She's the type that survives life by her brain and body, me I use my brain and heart.  She's cray cray There, their and they're, know the difference.  I'm a horrible speller but please, please don't mess those up. Trust me, you don't mess with the Jews.  I read my bible, I believe it.  I'm not speaking of the debate over the West Bank.  I'm talking of outside forces that threaten Israel.  Even if you don't believe the bible, would you really pick a fight with a whole country that requires all citizens to serve in the military. At 4:40 A...

feet, both of them, and it was ah-ahhh-amazing! Don't get your shorts in a wad, I would never let another man touch me inappropriately. Friday, Mama (aka G. Mama....Mama G. or half of the "prentals") had lunch and than got a pedicure. Mama was the first person to introduce me to the joy and elation of a pedicure.  I immediately loved it.  And being that, as I've stated before on this blog, I may not be much of a runner, but my feet show the extent to which I attempt to be a runner. We arrived and the nail salon was busy, busy, busy.  A young gentlemen got us seated, a cup of water, and hot water added to soak our tootsies in.  I admit I was hoping that he was just doing the prep work and someone else would take the tools to my hooves. He sat down and started to slowly and meticulously trim my disgusting overgrown cuticles and dry skin and ill-shaped, home trimmed nails.  The nice, twenty something man, masculine, gently chastised me for trimming my nail...

You may have read the headlines of late.  A DNA test on a blood and semen stained scarf found with one of the White Chapel victims has been linked to a Polish barber Aaron Kosminski.  The young Kosminski was in and out of lunatic asylums for much of his life and died in one. My first introduction to the "Jack the Ripper" mystery was in the form of pure 80's television. "Fantasy Island" season 4, episode 6, original air date of November 29, 1980.  The episode title was "With affection Jack the Ripper/Gigolo".  It was a strange pairing of a authoress that wanted to go back to 1889 White Chapel to unmask Jack the Ripper and some meek little guy who wanted to be a gigolo to get some confidence with women.  Really? confidence with women, obviously written by a man. I'm sure I had no idea what a gigolo was and the questions probably prompted answers that as a 8 year old I wasn't at all interested in.  I don't remember that part of the episo...

I can't express to anyone why the ache of missing my Mom comes and goes at is does.  Perhaps it's because I am approaching the anniversary of her death, September 28, 1988.  But beyond that, right now, this moment, I am aching for my Mom. I had such jealousy of my friends who passed by the bullshit of teen years and got to know their Mom's as fellow adults.  Cohorts that supported each other.  In reality of my three closes friends none of them have had that much extra time with their Mom's.  Missy and Prissy lost their mom to cancer not long after I did.  Graybelle has lost her mom to the absence of other distractions.  But still I ache. I want to know what my Mom's favorite color was.  I want to know what she wanted to be when she grew up.  I want to know how she felt about gay marriage.  My gut tells me she wouldn't have given a fig, which is how I feel. But mostly I want the warm embrace.  The hug she gave me when I started...

To believe that Riddick and I our raving proud geeks .  Behold our new to us industrial sewing machine. Formerly owned at some point in the far distant past by Pendleton Woolen Mills. It works great. Riddick was so excited to show me how many layers of fabric he could sew through. So much more powerful than my weiner sewing machine

I've wanted to post this for so long but hesitated on the off chance that any one actually reads my blog. When I see a picture of trayvon Martin I see my step son ironman. Trayvon was black and ironman is white. And although I'm not ignorant of racial strife in our country, to me they are the same. Both are boys. Sweet boys. I realize that any young men that reads this may not like the reference of sweet boy....but that's what they both are to me. The person that ended Trayvons life does not warrant naming in my blog. What I know is this. Our boy, Ironman goes to the local mini mart to get a snickers and Mt. Dew..not so different from Trayvon.  Not 1 month ago Riddick and I and our neighbor were hanging out late in the evening and three boys walked by. One of them said something to our neighbor that was not very hospitable. Riddick stood up and said " you guys should probably just go home" . And that's what should have happened that night the Trayvon los...

Habits. ..habits are hard to break. My habit of drinking 5 diet cokes a day was broken by doing a "whole 30 " diet. And what really killed the habit is when I sneaked a diet coke and got a raging headache. ...it just took the fun out of diet cola. I just told Riddick to please put the dog nail clippers back in the drawer under the phone. There has not been a phone on the wall in this home since Riddick moved I here almost 5 years ago But like I said habits die hard