Do You Have G@S?

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GoT G@S?

Don’t blame me for the question¬† ūüėÜ

I was actually headed down a whole ‘nother writting road when I was reminded of something I saw on Fartbook ūüė≥ today that had me digging deeper to find out¬†The rest of the story¬†¬†ūüôā

It was about an overly flatulent passenger on a flight from Dubai to Amsterdam on which a passenger let fly ūüėČ toots that were sooo horrifyingly bad that….well, I’ll let you read some of the more descriptive headlines and you’ll figure it out!

 1. IBTIMES.CO.UK
Fart Attack: Plane makes emergency landing after passenger refuses to stop breaking wind on flight!

2. FINANCIALEXPRESS.COM
Transavia Airlines Emergency Landing: Reason As Explosive As It Is Hilarious!

3. NEWSHUB.CO.NZ
Transavia Airlines Flight Makes Emergency Landing After Passenger’s Farting Sparks Fight!

4. THEREGISTER.CO.UK
Farts Away! Plane Makes Unscheduled Stop After Man Won’t Stop Guffing! (that’s a new one on me!)

5. BOING BOING
Fart Rampage Forces Flight to Make Emergency Landing!

6. NYPOST
Farty Passenger Forces Flight to Make Emergency Landing!

7. King C-Note from HOT917FM.COM
“This flight was no GAS!”

8. INC.COM
How Farts on a Flight Led to a Fight and Alleged Racial Profiling.

9. GULFNEWS.COM
Bad Air Forces Emergency Landing!

10. FLIP.IT
Passenger Drops Farts So Putrid Pilot is Forced to Make Emergency Landing

11. DAILYCALLER.COM
Pilot Makes Emergency Landing Over Passenger Dropping Booty Bombs

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know about you all, but I think we needed a story like this to make the headlines today.

Don’t get me wrong…the stories monopolizing the various media outlets these days are important ones.¬† And we as a society must pay attention to and get involved in, finding solutions when and where we can.¬† Especially with regard to the tragedies at our nation’s schools.¬† Of this there is no question.

But something non-political or racially charged…

Wait…there is one headline that does not fall into this category…and to me, it’s just plain ignorant and self-serving; maybe even hate mongering rhetoric.

Did you notice?  Go back and read #8.

To claim racial profiling?  Really?  Do they think his flatulent emissions were trying to enter their country illegally?

Or perhaps their thinking was that his intolerable tootage was being used as a weapon of mass disgustion!

Whatever the reason behind that headline, it’s Just. Plain. Stupid.

Anyway…I was actually writing a post on another kind of gas when I was reminded of these headlines seen today.

If nothing else, I hope it brings a smile to your face.

Or maybe you’ll chuckle enough to release a little pressure of your own!

Hey, when you’re my age…the relief valve doesn’t always work!!!

Sometimes…it’s an effluent pump run amok!!

ūüėܬ† Peace and Good Booty Bombs to All¬† ūüėÜ

Should We Stay or Should We Goūüé∂ūüé∂ūüé∂

Okay.¬† So, I know it’s been a day or two¬†since my last post ūüėČ and I wasn’t¬†actually planning a post today ‘cuz it’s¬†crazy busy for us right now, but…who the hell could resist?

Not I.

You all know how much I like a good ‘saga’¬† ūüėā ūüė≠ ūüėď

Especially about cars.  Or moving.  Or houses.  Or other Shit-N-Stuff.

Right?

So…after all the blood, sweat, and tears, we shed before, during, and after, moving into our current home, we are considering selling.

Yup…2 years, 6 months in, picking up and moving again is actually being considered.

Nutz! ūüėĶ¬†¬† Looney!¬† ūüėĪ¬†¬† Coocoo for Cocoa Puffs! ūüźí

Why?

Two reasons really.

The first,¬†to be closer to my recently transplanted Mom, who¬†is, apparently, one of those lucky people I’ve heard about when it comes to adventures in moving.¬† Her pack and move went smoothly.¬† Her house¬†behaved when she moved in and didn’t reach out and break her leg or rain down through her light fixtures from the floor above.

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Remember my crying lights?

She has¬†made¬†a beautiful home for herself…and is quite content to remain where she is.¬† But, we are finding that even a mere¬†20 minute/10 mile distance, is 15 minutes too far!

{Hmmm, note to self…A Drive Too Far…Book?¬† Movie?¬† Copyright infringement?¬† Carry on self…}

The second, as important as the first, is because our beautiful Ms. Sadie needs a place to safely run and play in her own backyard, and we cannot give that to her.

Why?

Because we cannot fence it in ūüė≤

Why?

Bureaucratic Bullshit ūüöß

We have a gorgeous back yard…

Northfield in the fall

What…don’t believe that’s mine?

What—everrrrrrrrrrrr¬† ūüĎÄ

Forget the mountains then.

Oh for Pete’s sake…take out the barn if it bothers ya!

Okay Okay (ya picky bitches), take out the fence, the trees, the other barn, and the rolling field in the background and you’ve got my yard.

Happy?

Anyhoo….because Virginia’s disclosure laws are a¬† j o k e, not one of the half dozen professionals involved in buying real estate, not to mention the previous owner, felt it necessary to inform us that this lot is one of the highest impacted lots in the neighborhood, rendering our little slice of Eden…all but USELESS.

Why?

There is a 60′ (yes, that is SIXTY) gas company easement from the back of the property towards the house and runs the entire width of the tad over a 1/3 acre lot.¬† From our way of thinking, that should have been mentioned by SOMEONE in the 2 month buying/closing process yeah?

Yeah……….No!

Add to that 60′ another¬†20′ for the build line which runs from the structure towards the back of the yard, making¬†the total depth/width of what we cannot add to, plant on, or change in a way that would impede….a whopping 80′.

EIGHTY #$#$%#$ FEET¬† ūüėĖ ūüė≠ ūüėē

Even¬†though the gas company¬†could work with us¬†on a fee based waiver,¬†they won’t.

But Wait!¬† There’s More¬† (oh goody)

There are also easements from the county that cannot be waivered.

One is a¬†16′ drainage easement, running back to front, the entire length of the property, but it’s on the side property line, so we didn’t give that one much thought.¬† At the time.¬† Not until¬†we had to.¬† And we had to when we wanted to put a storage shed out there.¬† On the side.¬† Away from the gas easement.¬† Ya know, close to the garage and stuff.

Ummmm….Not gonna happen¬† ūüöę

Then {and I chuckle here}¬†there is that all too common, everybody else must have one…FLOOD DAM FAULT LINE!¬† OR FAULT DAM FLOOD LINE!¬† OR DAM FLOOD FAULT LINE!¬† OR SOME DAMNED LINE GOING DIAGONALLY THROUGH THE ENTIRE BACK YARD!!

You got one, right?¬† And you?¬† And you, and you?¬† And you over there?¬† Everybody?¬† ‘Cause I’m thinking it’s so damned prolific as to be down right common-place.¬† Like we all got grass so why point out the grass?¬† Ain’t that¬†why I’ve never heard of this effin’ thing?¬† Ain’t it?

What the hell is happening?????????????¬† ūüėĪ

The only friggin floods that I have ever heard of around here….were¬†inside my damned house and that fault line didn’t help one daggone¬†bit!!¬† (el squat-o)

Did I say this made me chuckle?

I lied¬† ūüėę

Of course, we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think we’d get a decent enough return to buy another.¬† The market is good right now, the rates are still low, people may be looking to get into a place before the next school year….all good things right?

So I ask you…

ūüé∂ Should we stay or should we go ūüé∂

(sorry,¬†I can’t help singing it…lol)

Oh geez…after all that, I forgot to mention why I even began this post.¬†¬†While we muse over the possibility of listing (we’re about 98% there to be honest), we figured we’d do what we always do in this situation…invest more blood, sweat, and tears, not to mention ūüíį, into getting our¬†imperfect ūüŹ†¬†perfect so the next¬†ūüĎł of the¬†newly perfected ūüŹį won’t have to lift a friggin’ finger or spend an effn’ dime!

‘Cause that’s¬†how we role…we Hernandezeseses (Hernadezi?)

We buy, we fix, we do……..and we move.¬† So we can then…buy old¬†and broken,¬†fix to new and pretty, sell to others who don’t have to do a damned thing…just so we can buy old and broken, fix to new and pretty….blah de blah de blah!

In that vein…
We have had the¬†fireplace that hasn’t worked since the day after we moved in, fixed.
We had the Jacuzzi tub’s leaky-ass faucets that we haven’t touched since the first time we went to use it and didn’t because it leaked, repaired.
We’re giving our wood floors a facelift so they don’t offend the next matriarch with their little Sadie scratches.
We’re resurfacing our pinkish, post-form, laminate countertops that somehow were good enough for me, but certainly will put off today’s savvy buyers looking for the trendier granite because ‘It’s so shiiiiny’.

And I’ve saved the¬†best for last…

and the hardest for me…

the die-hard DIY’er:

Hiring someone to do what I do, and do well is tough. But time, old shoulders, bad, up close & personal, eyesight, added to my increased lack o’ patience, has dictated that this time around…we must bite the proverbial and hire a pro.

You all know me and my history with hiring professionals.

Though you know I pride myself in doing my due diligence, you also know it has gotten my leg broken, my house flooded, my toothbrush packed with the toilet brush, and my car dying at 70 MPH on Interstate 91 in New Haven.

Shall we agree that you know this Wonder Woman of Wacky Workmen?

Okay then…we’re off.

We hired a ‘Pro” to paint the interior of our 4BR, 3BA home, top to bottom, head to toe, and everything in between.¬† The references were stellar. The estimate reasonable. The time frame – 7 days. Perfect.

That should have been my first clue!

When. Will. I. Learn?

Nothing is perfect, nor apparently, what it seems!

I’m getting ahead of myself…let’s see.¬† To be pro-active, we removed all wall d√©cor, switch plates, outlet covers,¬†electronics, all items in/on/around furniture, packed everything in boxes, moved all furniture to middle of rooms to be covered, placed all non-necessary furnishings, boxes, small items, etc., in the garage, took up all rugs, and basically had the house ‘paint-ready’ for the start date.¬† Oh, and we moved into my mother’s to give them free reign to only have to cover stuff once and not worry about finishing one room at a time.¬† The house was theirs.¬† They had to do nothing but cover, patch, sand, and paint.

Two painters began on Monday the 6th.¬† The owner’s son who is¬†taking over the business, and his¬†side kick with 25 years under his belt,¬†cut-in and first coat, guy.

Come Saturday, the 11th, one was left and the other one gone.  I fired the side-kick for lack of production and sloppy work.  His smoke breaks alone used half his hours and all of his work needed to be re-done.

He blamed the paint.  I blamed the painter.  I win.

Boom!¬† You’re outta here!¬†

I was told he would be replaced with a more professional side kick, but as of today, the 17th, there is still but one.

Mr Painter Man

Who I call IMA

IMA fix it РIMA gonna do it РIMA be here late tomorra РIMA sorry РIMA IMA IMA

By end of business today, there will have been a total of 11 painting days.

Know what’s done?¬† Hah…stop that laughing.¬† Wanna know?

Upstairs.

This is still my downstairs…11 days later

Know what else?

There are 3 walls upstairs that need to be redone.¬† But I told¬†IMA to save that for dessert cause I needed his ass downstairs in the kitchen!¬† I’ve got a counter top being redone on MONDAY!!

I even returned the remaining 6 gallons of my accent color, a beautiful Crushed Oregano green, for¬†IMA because he keeps blaming the paint…I changed my design for him!

IMG_20160616_101407_640[1]

Does this color scare you?¬† It’s on my front door, which I painted, without trouble

 What the hell is wrong with me???  IMA STUPID!

Know what I’m doing right now?

ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ ūüė≠ etc etc etc

Why bother going through all of this some might ask.  Especially when my house always looks good whether trendy or not.  Always up to date, clean, and comfy.  Homey!

Because Lord knows, today’s modern and discerning buyer would no doubt, walk into a home with red in the kitchen and yellow in the living room; green in the bathroom and a cloud painted blue sky ceiling in the bonus room, would run screaming into the street for the horror!

None of which I put on the walls but was perfectly fine with it until the day I decided to change it.

Boy oh Boy…we can’t expect someone else to think that way now can we?

Or so the real estate professionals tell me. After all, this is only the 6th house we will have sold, so how would I know anything about what sells and what doesn’t?

So…next week, it’ll be Mr. Painter-man who best have my kitchen done by tomorrow (or else )¬†and the counter-top crew.¬† That, should be an interesting day¬† ūüėā

ūüé∂ ūüé∂ We Should’a Stayed and Let Him Go ūüé∂ ūüé∂

 

In the blink of an eye…

Last post was a week until…
This post is a week gone since…
In the blink of an eye it’s over
*
Last post I showed you where…
This post I’m showing you why…
In the click of a button it’s forever

*

1.)  Human Fun & Games

(Hover over photo or click on it for captions)

*

2.)  Nature Au Naturale

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“Will ya looky there Junior…them’s called bipeds. If’n it t’were huntin’ season, I’d show ya how to cook ’em real good in lots o’butter!”

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“Hey Ground Walker! Can’t you read?? You can’t park here! Just look at ’em Ralph…think they own the joint!’

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“STOP THAT I SAID!!!”

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“Good grief, can’t fly ANYWHERE around you bitches!”

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“Oooooh, look at that jet Pops!”

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“That ain’t no jet kids…that’s your cousin George”

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“Ma? ¬†Where ya going Ma?”

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“Louise, get back here!”

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“No worries Pops…I’ll get her.”

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“Jeez Louise…can’t a fella visit his relatives?”

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“Hey Georgie…you can come visit me. I’m free as a bird tonight. Dinner?”

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“Whassat? Let me just clean my ears, thought you invited me to dinner.”

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“Well, alrighty then! I’ll just hop, skip, and a….

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…juuuuuuuump on over sweet thang!”

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Random man / bird fly by

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Random man caused fly away

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“I AM…’nuff said”

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“Oh he’s SUCH a show off!”

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“Hey…if I got it flaunt it right?”

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One…

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Two…

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Three…

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Dinner!”

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“Really? He’s this desperate? I’m BAIT not dinner! ¬†The bird brain!!”

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heeheehee

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Heeeeey……..

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…that tickled ma belly!

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“I don’t get the whole beach thing Dorrie, do you?”

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“No, me either Handsome. Why hang out in all that sandy muck when you can lounge around with me surrounded by all this love stuff?”

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“Gee, I wonder if he’s noticed I’ve picked out the wedding bouquets? Oh Handsooooome? Wanna play Peek a Love-Dove?”

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“Handsome? Handsome? Hmmmm, I guess he noticed…that CHICKEN!”

*

3.) ¬†Art…Is Where You Feel It

(click on a circle for captions)

*
Thanks for coming along…I do hope you enjoyed.

Next time it’s¬†sand and surf, then worshiping the heavens

ūüôā

Schooled

Home is where you learn to walk

Walking.

Like riding a bike…once you learn how…you don’t forget.

Choose not to, sure. ¬†But you don’t forget.

When I was a girl I used to walk everywhere.  I would stomp with purpose in my Wonder Bread bag covered shoes to school in the winters, hoping to get the bags off and stowed before the LL Bean boot-wearing kids could see them.

I’d march, like a good little soldier, the kiddie version of a 50 yard mile to church on Sunday, fiddling with the all too popular, bang-holding, enormous, white, clip-on bow my mother insisted I wear. ¬†One that made my¬†hair sit pregnant and waiting to pop its clip from atop my head, and in doing so, birthing my bangs back onto my forehead where they belonged! ¬†The post clip-on years saw my¬†9 to 14 year old self, stomp the yard the longest¬†1/4 mile known to adolescents…especially on Catechism Saturdays, where God’s own wicked witch of the north ruled with an iron fist!

The better walking days were when I was old enough to sashay and glide; take my time meandering and strolling, to the place where all good things happen. ¬†Overstreet. ¬†Which, for those who don’t know, is our far north yank-speak for Downtown. ¬†I could spend my fifty cent allowance buying nickle candy at the Economy Store, making¬†sure to save the quarter I needed for the Sat’dy matinee a couple doors down at the Savoy. ¬†And often times, I’d even have enough to stop at The Candy Kitchen for a creamie on the way home, if that’s what the gang wanted to do.

In the pre-bicycle summers, walking to the pool was the equivalent my now-self walking 5 miles on the huff and puff scale. ¬†I’ve actually checked since then and know now it was just a hair shy of a¬†mile…but it was the last half that was a killer. ¬†Or so it seemed at the time. And looking back…having a bike didn’t improve that hill any…not one lick! ¬†I don’t think I managed to stay ON the bike the whole way up but once, and only then because I rode that hill like it was a Donkey Kong trail, without the ladders! ¬†Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. ¬†It was easier to push it (or leave it home). ¬†Besides, kids pushing bicycles up that hill was just the way of it…until the 10-speed arrived. ¬†YeeHaw…what an invention. ¬†Not that I ever had one, but boy could those kids ride that hill like it was nothing!

Our’s was a small town; a good, walking town for a kid when you come right down to it. Nestled in a little valley surrounded by the Green Mountains; a college town without acting like a college town because we didn’t really sport the kinds of places college kids like to hang. ¬†And those we did have, the cadets managed to get thrown out of more often than not, so it was really just us¬†town folk most of the time.

I loved walking that town, and I know it’s from walking that town that I feel so drawn to the beauty in everyday things that I often take pictures of. ¬†Imagine walking down the street where you live, and everywhere you look, there’s a mountain, or a brook, or a river. Walk to the end of that street and you can chose to go straight over the footbridge, crossing the river towards downtown and what adventures lie there. ¬†Or left over the tracks towards one of your schools or a shortcut to your friend’s house, the side street tree lined and leaf covered. ¬†Or better yet, turn right and walk to where the pavement ends and the dirt begins. ¬†Fields full of wild flowers and cows; promises of swimming holes and tire swings, and mountains as far as the eye¬†can see.

All the time looking up. ¬†All the time thinking…I want to live in those mountains. ¬†I want to hear the brooks run and the smell the spring mud; feel the snow tickle as it falls on my face, and crunch under my feet for as long as I live.

I no longer live in that town.

But that town lives in me.  I take it with me everywhere, as I take all those things I fell in love with there too.

It’s the peace I reach for¬†when I can find none where I am.

No matter where I hang my hat, my ¬†heart remains there…in my little town. ¬†Where walking the streets is not a profession…it’s a path to connection. ¬†To God, to community, to nature, but most importantly, to¬†oneself.

When I need it, I put on my boots and hit the road and remember. ¬†I remember to keep my ears open, my eyes wide, and my mind quiet. ¬†I remember to be thankful for some of the absolute best memories of¬†my life…and more so, to be thankful for giving me the mountains my mind ran¬†away to; where I’d sit under a glorious burnt orange tree while it bathed in the red-gold light of a late fall sun…for the¬†absolute worst of my life.

The little town where I learned to walk; to never take for granted the¬†beauty in the¬†simple things; to accept with gratitude,¬†the gifts it gave me every day; and learned too, the true understanding of what it is…the power…to have¬†a place to call home.

Northfield in the fall

My town, where I learned to walk

 

(photo by Carol of Carol’s View of New England on blogspot)

Is there a Q in Creation?

Hello Hello!

And Happy New Year!

It’s been almost 3 months since I last laid fingers on this spot and quite frankly, I’m stumped as to why. ¬†It’s not as though nothing has been going on in my life; not like I couldn’t have found¬†something¬†to regale you with. ¬†But I didn’t, so there it is. ¬†What to do, what to do?

My Quandry

It’s me and not what’s going on in my life, that is the…

queller of quills that once quivered in quickness as they quilted quality quarters in the quest of her quair; chock-full of the queenly and quintessentially queer, the quacky and quaggy and quixotically quaint.

It is me and me¬†alone who can say…

quiescence remains in this quaffer’s quaich. What’s¬†quashing that¬†quorum of quarrels, quibs, and quips that querimoniously queue¬†up in¬†the quar of my gray- matter quag; quit of its quant?

As it is also me, the once…

quartermaster, now turned querulous quester, who is lost in quassation.  A quat, a quidam, a word-quean, bereft of her quean-dom; whose quiritation quickens toward quotidian.

Quit?

Qualify?

Quantify?

Quiver?

Quash?

Quell?

No

Hence the exercise in the little used and under appreciated

Q

A little warm up to get the juices flowing.

Maybe?

Hopefully?

For if this does not work…

I’m off to the Zees

Yikes!

Is there a Z word for HELLA-NO?

[I looked it up]

Z I P

Wish me luck ¬†ūüôā

 

 

The Post Politic

As I await the dawn of my¬†20,075th day on this earth, I feel the need for reflection. ¬†Time enough alive, I should think, to have learned a thing or two. Sorry to say, it hasn’t been all good.

However, owing to the fact that tomorrow is an election day here, and the boob-tube shows nothing but boobs…I couldn’t help but get stuck in the quagmire that is our government

Having learned that cliches are cliches, and euphemisms are euphemisms for good reason, and never more evident than when a pattern of behavior BEGS to be seen for exactly what it is, I do think it’s time for me to call it what it is and like I see it…
B U L L S H I T

And by bullshit, I mean Politics

If you’ll allow, I give you:

The top 20 cliches and euphemisms of this 20,074¬†¬Ĺ day old¬†female, who believes are alive and well in today’s bloody, rotten, stinkin’, crappy, silly, non-productive, infuriating, ridiculous, embarrassing; yet ours…world of politics

The more things change, the more they stay the same – POLITICS

A house divided against itself, cannot stand – POLITICS

Actions speak louder than words – POLITICS

Those who do not learn from history, are doomed to repeat it – POLITICS

If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em – POLITICS

Money talks – POLITICS

Stupid is as stupid does – POLITICS

Birds of a feather flock together – POLITICS

Talk is cheap – POLITICS

The ends justify the means – POLITICS

There’s one born every minute – POLITICS

The truth is stranger than fiction – POLITICS

Two wrongs don’t make a right – POLITICS

Cut off your nose to spite your face – POLITICS

Feeding frenzy – POLITICS

Out of sight, out of mind – POLITICS

The blind leading the blind – POLITICS

The status quo – POLITICS

It takes one to know one – POLITICS

A good man/woman  is hard to find РPOLITICS

…and trust me, I could go on


But another pattern of behavior ‘frosts my ass’ too. ¬† And you’ll likely notice that many of the above can be applied to what is below

I think I’ll call it the Tolerance/Intolerance Side Show to the circus that is Political Correctness:

Protesting to rename highways, parks, etc., and trying to remove monuments that celebrate confederate Generals because they fought a fight you don’t agree with

Yet…organizing campaigns to rename those same said highways, parks, etc. for people that answered the call for civil rights decades after the fact. The same protesters, I might add, who themselves never cried out for¬†the removal from written history, all who made their lives hell

Removing the Confederate flag from all state and federal facilities because some see it as a symbol of hatred, when in fact, it was a battle flag designed to differentiate it from the Union flag and therefore has historical value; nothing more

Yet, not protesting when a world renowned symbol of the United States, The Empire State Building, is used to herald the achievements or celebrate holidays of the very countries that would like nothing more than to see the United States cease to exist

Removing something as iconic as The Duke’s of Hazard from TV Land because the car had a Confederate flag on it, even though not a single word of a single episode, ever suggested bigotry or racism or intolerance

Yet, if you’re a fan of TV Land programs, have you noticed George Jefferson says¬†the word Honky in just about every episode?


And there are some behaviors that are not so easily categorized, yet the influence of today’s PC madness is evident in the overwhelming number of those who ascribe to these beliefs relating to color:

Listening as people of color tell me that I’ll never understand, could never relate, to what it’s like to be a person of color

True.  Yet at the same time, those said same people of color, tell me they know exactly what it is to be white, because being white means only one thing; privilege

[I get it, in theory. ¬†But I can just as easily say that I wouldn’t know what it’s like to be a bird. It’s irrelevant. ¬†And, another truth is that, unless you’ve¬†walked the back roads of my life…your right to this claim¬†is false. ¬†So let’s stick to the truth¬†that none of us can know what it’s like to be in another man’s shoes, unless we’ve walked in them, and call it a day.]

Sanitizing our history books to shield our kids from the worst in our country’s history, including the path of our growth (that we are still on by the way)

Yet making sure we do include a focus of study¬†that tries to maximize a culture of them vs us, with little regard for how far we’ve come, nor teachings on the strides made in the last 200 years…as though nothing has changed


The worst of it comes out in the various ways we bite each other’s ankles…and to what end?

For instance:

Demonizing the rich for having too much

Denigrating the poor for having too little and needing more

Expecting the government to give more and more

Blaming the government for sticking it’s nose in our business

Tolerance for groups that separate and segregate

Intolerance for groups that point it out

Fighting for women’s equality

Crying that chivalry is dead

Calling for change through peaceful protest for the injustices seen in all facets of the human struggle, especially those affecting minorities

Yet some especially touched by these injustices hide behind a guise of protest for change, take it as the opportunity to loot for personal gain and destroy entire neighborhoods, then scream racism when motives are questioned


Are we so intolerant or jealous of each other’s success that we have to denigrate and belittle?
Are we so comfortable in our misery, we feel we must maintain it at all costs?
Have we forgotten what it’s like to celebrate each other to the point that every gain should be looked at as a loss because it didn’t happen 200 years ago? ¬†100 years ago? ¬†50? ¬†Yesterday?

When all we have to show for the 3 centuries we’ve been a country are broken teeth and bloody socks…why the hell do we even try?


Is this to be our legacy…?

Welcome to the United States

The land of equal opportunity damning

Damned if we do

And by God

Damned if we don’t


Is the only way to prove I’m not a racist to agree with everything a person of color says and thinks?

Why?  Why can I not just agree and disagree with anyone and everyone based on what I believe and be done with it!

Conversely, is the only way to be true to your heritage as a person of color to pretend success doesn’t matter lest your peers think you an Uncle Tom or some other stupid shit?

That’s ridiculous on its face and damned insulting to every person who’s ever made more of themselves than those around them! ¬†REGARDLESS of your heritage.

Is the only way I can prove I’m a strong woman to think and act like a man?

Shit, I’d rather¬†be a cat (I almost said dog, but cats get away with more!)


We are better than this!

We…men, women, black, white, red, yellow, brown, HUMAN…are better than this!

This began as a reflection in the wading pool that is this political swamp, but resulted in getting caught in the current of political correctness, and nearly drowning in the tidal wave of whatthefuckarewethinking!

Enough already!

Just

Enough


I end it here…I am 55 tomorrow.
I am seeing the country I love implode because of an agenda I have no interest in adopting as my own.

I am proud to be an American.
I am proud to be a Christian.
I am proud to hold the values I hold and don’t feel the need to label them one way or the other.
I am proud to be a woman.
I hold no pride in being white…I have ZERO say in that.
Nor do I maintain guilt because of it.
I am proud to champion anyone who leaves the world a better place.
I don’t see the race or religion.
I could care two-shits for the land that you hailed from as long as you take good care of the one you are living in.
I will celebrate your achievements, but none so much as your paying forward that which you can to those that cannot.

I am a member of one race – the human one – and unless you expect me to give that up – I’ll always welcome you at my table

THIS…IS WHAT I WILL ALWAYS BE

My Life-Bucket List

We’ve all heard of a Bucket List.
With another birthday looming, I can’t help but look at mine and say
Aw Crap! Another year gone and the bucket’s about where it was last year.”

But, that’s just one bucket right?
We have more than one bucket surely.
I know I do.
I probably have more buckets than I have lists!

But this did get me thinking…do I have a Life-Bucket?
A Life-Bucket List?
Never heard of it?
That’s okay, it’s nothing official, just a easy way to visualize it.

Being a list person to the nth degree, I find I actually DO have one.
I draw from it; this life-bucket; and drink from it to nourish the virtues, qualities, lessons, reminders, etc., of and for, the person I’m working to be

I also choke on it once in a while, but that’s all part of it isn’t it? Learning to drink without choking?

You may agree with all, or some, or none at all.

And that’s okay.

Do you have one? Would you share it if you did?

I think of it as a resource – a life resource.
A very personal gift from me to myself.

Still, it’s one I am happy to share.

Now, just because it’s on my list, doesn’t mean I follow it perfectly.
I believe in it perfectly, drink from it religiously, but it is a fluid work in progress.

And this is one bucket whose contents will remain fluid.
I fill it; I kick it over; I shoot it full of holes.
What matters is that I re-fill it.
What matters is that I remember it’s there so I can draw from it.
It may never be perfectly filled, at least until I am no more.

But, what is left in it is where those who know and love me, will see me reflected.
So I fill it with care.

Always…I fill it with care.

My Life-Bucket List:

The most destructive habit……………………………………..Worry
The greatest Joy…………………………………………………….Giving
The greatest Loss……………………………………………………Self Respect
The most satisfying work…………………………………………Helping Others
The ugliest personality trait……………………………………..Selfishness
The most endangered species…………………………………Dedicated Leaders
Our greatest natural resource………………………………….Our Youth and Our Elderly
The greatest ‘shot in the arm’…………………………………..Encouragement
The greatest problem to overcome…………………………..Fear
The most effective sleeping pill………………………………..Peace of Mind
The most crippling failure disease…………………………….Excuses
The most powerful force in life…………………………………Love
The most dangerous outcast……………………………………A Gossip
The most incredible computer………………………………….The Brain
The worst thing to be without…………………………………..Hope
The deadliest weapon………………………………………………The Tongue
The two most power-filled words………………………………I Can
The greatest asset……………………………………………………..Faith
The most worthless emotion……………………………………..Self Pity
The most beautiful attire……………………………………………A Smile
The most prize possession…………………………………………Integrity
The most powerful channel of communication…………..Prayer
The most contagious spirit………………………………………..Enthusiasm
Our greatest teacher…………………………………………………Experience

Now get out there and fill your buckets!

Cheers ūüôā
R

Hat Heaven

Cee’s Fun Foto Challenge: ¬†Hats

I don’t often see women wearing hats anymore. ¬†Nowadays, when I see a woman in a hat, it’s usually part of a costume, or a fashion show of clothes no one actually wears but all ooh and ahh over.

We see them on TV when the British Royals are in view, or if it’s The Derby on the news, you see American women sporting rather lavish head coverings, but honestly, they don’t seem to carry it off as well as the Brits.

Men? ¬†They’re a different animal all together. ¬†Put a ball cap on and call it “Honey, let’s go” time!

But I do remember a time when hats were ‘the thing’. ¬†Especially on Sunday mornings in church…hats, hats, everywhere or at the very least, a square of lace pinned in place.

Makes me wonder…where did all the hats go to die? ¬†Well, apparently, flea markets and antique stores!

Seriously, it’s a veritable hat haven! ¬†Or would that be hat heaven…hmmm

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