I’ve been MIA for a while, having traveled to Vermont to spend some time with the folks, and since, have decided to stay another couple weeks…so, I thought I’d share a little quirky quickie so you don’t COMPLETELY forget me 😉
A husband went to the police station to file a “missing person” report for his missing wife:
Husband : I lost my wife, she went shopping & hasn’t come back yet.
Inspector : What is her height?
Husband : I never checked.
Inspector : Slim or healthy?
Husband : Not slim, can be healthy.
Inspector : Color of eyes?
Husband : Never noticed.
Inspector : Color of hair?
Husband : Changes according to the season.
Inspector : What was she wearing?
Husband : Not sure whether it was a dress or a suit.
Inspector : Was she driving?
Husband : Yes.
Inspector : Tell me the number, name & color of the car?
Husband : Black Audi A8 with supercharged 3.0 litre V6 engine generating 333 horse power, teamed with an eight-speed tiptronic automatic transmission with manual mode. And it has full LED headlights, which use light emitting diodes for all light functions and has a very thin scratch on the front left door.
I’m sure this image spoke to me the day I snapped it
Was it the flowers the drew my eye?
Was it a feeling of being on the outside looking in?
Vice versa?
Getting my head caught in the ropes (a.k.a. arghhhh)?
Swiss cheese being what it is…I’ve forgotten it or lost it or maybe I just thought it was pretty at the time
However you look at it…I’m damned if I know now
😳
So…as I often do when this happens, I just sit and stare at it.
Sometimes I fuss around with it…change a filter here, contrast there, funk it up a bit to see if it yells something out.
The funk didn’t help, as it is not telling me what it wanted to say, but it did put me in mind of something…
Murphy
Don’t ask…as I haven’t a clue
Just Murphy
You know…that fabled and famous guy that no one seems to be able to say exactly who or where or when or why…
There are as many stories as to how Murphy came to be associated with the worst luck ever as there are variations of the language of the law itself
Anyway…Murphy’s Law as I know it
“Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong”
Okay…well, if you think about it, it’s not so bad really
Without things going wrong, we wouldn’t use our noggins to figure shit out
Right?
Even those folks for whom everything seems to go wrong (ahem), it’s still not always a bad thing if those ‘wrongs’ turn into learning opportunities.
Learning to do things a different way, a better way, an easier way, the ‘right’ way?
Seems so to me anyway…and I consider myself in a good position to say so, considering the shit storm my life has been the last couple years
But hey, that’s Life and Life comes with just one promise…
Your Life promises to be your greatest adventure
Yes, it does
Where else can it be said that every minute of every day has the promise to be different from the one before?
If it isn’t, it’s not because it’s Life’s fault…it’s ours
We have the choice…sit in one spot, don’t move, don’t think, don’t eat, don’t drink, don’t sleep…die
OR
Get up, move around, go up, go down (sure…that way too), get outside, go inside, walk, drive, sing, love, laugh, cry, pout, clean, drink, eat…
Need I go on?
Every single one of those things is part of the adventure promised with each new second
Every promise can be fulfilled if we choose to make it happen
So…Murphy?
Sure, why not
But let’s go one better…
How about adding some new laws?
Just to keep us on the ‘that’s Life where every second promises a new adventure’ track
And to absolutely keep us on those ‘things on our feet that help us find furniture in the dark’….TOES
So in keeping with that…
Anytime you have a 50-50 chance of getting something right, there’s a 90% probability you’ll get it wrong.
The things that come to those who wait, may just be the things left by those who got there first.
If the shoe fits, get another one just like it.
Change is inevitable, except from a vending machine
A day without sunshine is like, well, night
He, who laughs last, thinks slowest
Got more?
Good, I was hoping you did
Share them here so we can all add them to our ‘Today’s Problems are Tomorrow’s Opportunities” catalogs
And now…I’m venturing off to enjoy this second’s adventure and it involves a date with a certain “John”
Our bus stopped and 2 Italian men got on.
They sat down in the seat in front of me and engaged in an animated conversation.
I ignored them at first,
But my attention was galvanized when I heard one of them say the following:
“Emma come first.
Den I come.
Den two asses come together.
I come once-a-more!
Two asses, they come together again.
I come again and pee twice.
Then I come one lasta time.”
I can’t take it anymore…
“Hey, you foul-mouthed sex obsessed pigs!” I retorted indignantly, hissing between my teeth.
‘In this country, we don’t speak aloud in public places about our sex lives!”
“Hey, coola down lady,” animatedly exclaimed the one.
“Whooza talkina about sex?” asked the other, looking completely perplexed.
“I’m a justa tellina my frienda how to spell Mississippi” the first cried, looking at me like I had two heads.
ps) Kat…hope you don’t mind my stealing two of your gifs
pss) B…if you still read this blog, laugh now.
♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
Now, I hope you all know me enough by now to know that I am picking fun here. My Mother-In-Law is a strong, intelligent, sensitive woman and we get along famously. It just took us some time to find our own relationship, as it did my husband and his Mother-In-Law. There is love and there is respect and that is all there needs to be.
It’s important to let the seeds of this relationship grow naturally, organically, outside that of the child/spouse connection.
There is nothing in the rules of marriage handbook (and I’m sure there is one out there, somewhere) that says you have to love or even be friends with your spouse’s mother.
It helps, but it’s also okay if not.
(I don’t know why, but Fathers-In-Law relationships do NOT have the same dynamic)
Love doesn’t happen just because she birthed your spouse nor for the fact that you happened to choose her child as a life mate.
That just opens the door. To be welcomed in and invited to take up space in their hearts, you must be worthy in your own right.
If there’s any hope for a relationship, there has to be respect. On both sides. And, because you’ve both earned it.
Respect is one of those things we each feel we deserve.
Just because.
Not so.
As with any relationship in life, whether personal or professional, we can respect the title/position, but the person in it, must earn it.
Also, as we cannot choose our blood relations, we do our best to love them because of our common link, but we often find ourselves in the position of not respecting them for various reasons.
Love but don’t respect – common in relationships to those we are born into.
But for those to whom we have no connection other than by proxy via our spouse, if we do not/cannot develop a familial love, we can at the least hope to develop a relationship based on mutual respect.
If not (especially if your spouse is close to your In-Law) then personally, I’d say your marriage has a boot on its neck.
Especially evident when you and your spouse have kids of your own…
Becoming a Mother-In-Law can be daunting if the relationship with the new son/daughter lacks respect as well as the love connection.
Could you imagine becoming a grandparent to the little seed of your precious apple in a relationship fraught with tension and stress because either you or your In-Law or your spouse were always on the defensive?
Nahhhh…that’s for the birds and a bit like cutting off your limb to spite your trunk, if you know what I mean.
So, this Mother’s Day, it is with high hopes that all the wives and husbands who share porch space with me here, boast a happy, healthy, loving relationship with your respective Mothers-In-Law. If not, I sincerely hope you share one of mutual respect.
If not yet, work on it. It’ll make all the difference in the world…to ALL of you.
If you’re a newbie, or a work in progress, keep at it.
The door opened the day you got married…it’s up to you to be welcomed inside.
Conversely…to all the Mothers-In-Law out there still struggling with the addition to the family…
It is with respect I say this…
“They are married.
You didn’t lose one, you gained one.
You did your job, now enjoy the fruits of your labor while they make fruits of their own.
Resist when you’re not asked.
Be there when you are.
And if you can’t…try harder.
Should you choose the right road, and it IS a choice, you’ll end up smack-dab in the middle of the intersection of Love Lane and Respect Avenue.
Apologies to Pete Townsend for maiming Squeeze Box’s lyrics…but you’ll get why in a moment.
Nothing like the yearly email reminder, to get me thinking about how many women are afraid of their first (2nd, 3rd, 4th, infinity) mammogram.
But ladies, there is no need to worry
INTRODUCING, the first ever, 3 day, 3 exercise, workout guaranteed to get you ready for your yearly ‘squeeze n’ squash’
MAMMO-CRUSH 3×3
By taking a few minutes, three times a day, for the three days preceding the exam, and following this foolproof exercise regimen, you will be totally prepared for the test
And best of all, you can do these simple exercises right in and around your home
In preparation for these three days, here are a few things you’ll need to do ahead of time
1.) Make sure you have a three day’s supply of your favorite guilty pleasure placed front and center in the fridge, with this note:
“If you’re looking for milk, it’s in the door; if you’re looking for a beer, it’s in the drawer; if you touch this (insert treat name), you’ll be on the floor”
You might want something like this?
2.) Keep your car gassed up, your phone charged, within reach, and have your breastie-bestie on speed dial
3.) Take two of those ugly, black, metal bookends we all manage to utilize but keep hidden in the back of the bookcase and place them in the freezer
4.) The last step works best if you live in an area where you have access to people. If you do, there’s nothing you need to ahead of time. If you do not, however, you will have to use your imagination.
But…keep in mind the milkman, postman, paperboy, lawn guy, Jehovah Witness…you get the idea. But remember, you’ll need to tailor this exercise to fit a particular time slot if that’s the case
Okay…have you got all that? Three days, three exercises.
Ready?
Here we go…
EXERCISE ONE:
Open your refrigerator door and insert one breast between the door and the frame
Shut the door as hard as possible then lean on the door for good measure
Hold that position for five seconds…12345
(screw the one-one thousand, two-one thousand crap)
Release
Take a cleansing breath and repeat two more times
Switch sides and do the same for (to) the other breast
Upon completion, reach in and grab (with gusto) that guilty pleasure
Make as much noise devouring it as you are capable of
Come on ladies…put your heart into it…I want to hear you MOAN!
EXERCISE TWO:
Remember those bookends in the freezer?
Take them out
Strip to the waist
Go outside and grab the first stranger you meet
(HOLD IT! I can’t believe none of you caught this before I did…but let’s REVERSE those previous two steps shall we?)
Invite that stranger into the room
(gender not important at this stage, humility is not relevant)
Press the bookends against each side of one of your breasts
Ask the stranger to place his/her hand gently, but firmly, against your naked back; just below the shoulder-blade, to steady you and make it easier for them to breathe warm, moist air into your ear
Smash the bookends together as hard as you can…kind of like this:
Hold
Release
Do it again
Switch
Smash
Hold
Release
Do it again
Set up an appointment with the stranger to meet next year and do it again
EXERCISE THREE:
Visit your garage at 3AM when the temperature of the cement floor is just perfect
WAIT – NOW is the time for your phone a friend – Hit that speed dial
Once your breast-bestie has been given her orders and is in place, take off all your clothes and lie comfortably on the floor with one breast wedged under the rear tire of the car
Give the go ahead signal to have her slowly back the car up until your breast is sufficiently flattened and chilled
(This is a one and done exercise as you can see below)
Turn over
Repeat with the other breast
That’s all there is to it.
Three exercises, three times a day
YOU. ARE. NOW. TOTALLY. PREPARED
Okay…now that you’ve had your gentle reminder…who’s going with me?
😳
This Public Service Announcement made possible by the following sponsors:
Forge Steely Grip Multi-Angle Vices; “You can be sure they’ll get the job done!”
Big As Shit Tires – “Your one stop shop for Off Road tires!”
Sprinting Like Hell Cellular – “When that call just HAS to go through, go Sprinting Like Hell”
Paradise Breast Center – “Don’t say we didn’t warn ya…get that exam today!”
Today’s post…despite the title…is about inspiration. I know right? The title is kind of misleading but…
A friend told me today that she missed my ‘more-often’ posts.
Yeah, well, me too!
I’d been so busy scooping poop these last few months, I hadn’t realized they only thing inspiring me to write was shit!
So, her comment was timely in that I’d just read two blog posts talking about seeing the big picture, keeping your eyes on the prize, concentrating on the good, listening to your heart’s softly whispered ‘it’s all going to be ok’ when you’re mired in the daily shit that could otherwise keep your psyche locked in the outhouse.
To count your blessings instead of lamenting your woes and understand that life is bigger than the last busted bone or paddleless trek up shitcreek. All true, though as we all know, it’s not easy.
More than possible, but not easy.
Now, I’m not one to call myself particularly optimistic (I have my reasons), I do engage in this battle daily…trying to see the bright side, seeking out the silver lining or at least trying to find the humor in all things, counting my blessings, stomping on the sneaky devil ankle-biters that are always trying to knock me on my ass and piss me off. And while the war is ongoing…the battles are getting easier. My reaction muscles are learning new tricks (and I’ve taken to wearing armored high-top boots!)
But to get back to it…when Jules made that comment today, it did get me wondering why, with my new-found pseudo-optimistic outlook, I haven’t been inspired to post something light or happy or springy.
That’s easy…and sad…
It’s pretty obvious I’d gotten into a routine of slinging the contents of those overfloweth buckets of poo I’d been collecting during those last few shit storms. Namely…
“Areyajokin, Bulleffincrap, and Canyashootmenow”
For now though, it looks like storm season is over and it’s time to dump the shit where it’ll do some good. Nothing so wrong in my new garden that a few buckets of good old-fashioned manure won’t fix.
So, time to get to emptying them and refilling them with something that smells a bit better, tastes divine, and looks a lot like happiness.
Never mind that it’s sleeting and snowing…my backyard’s full of flying flirts, the bulbs are busting and bearing up, the seedlings are starving, and I’ve got just the shit for them.
Welcome Spring…it’s time for you to eat!
And for you…at the top of my Things I’m Thankful For list…
I’m Happy because… This is NOT my derrière Though after the last few months…it could have been
But seriously…
Here’s to looking up, looking within, and looking out…to find your inspiration
Last night saw the end of the longest running nightmare of our married life.
The move to Virginia
(a.k.a. As the Shade Spins)
(aa.k.a. Two Thugs and a Truck)
(aaa.k.a. The Snap Heard ‘Round the Block)
(aaaa.k.a. Row, Row, Row, Your Washing Machine)
Moving on (yikes, that phrase alone gives me heartburn)…
At 7:00pm we waved goodbye, with heartfelt thanks, to the crew that installed our new floors. Adios and gracias if you know what I mean.
By 9:30pm we’d placed the last piece of furniture, made-up the last bed, plugged-in and set the alarm clock, and hopped (the mattress sits about boob high on me. HE hops…I use a stool) into our bed with sighs (grunts) of exhausted relief.
To say the day went off without a hitch would be completely out of character for me, so in keeping with keeping it real…I suppose I must share that too…
I’m usually the one in charge in all things ‘house’. But due to my slight limitation in mobility, I reluctantly gave up control and took my place as the minion this one time, physically anyway. (For some reason my mouth just can’t give up being the boss!)
Anyway…I was placed inside the frame of the bed, to help place the box spring. But, as my hands were catching the box, my eyes spied the very obvious fact that the bed was NOT in the right place. Why weight it down with box and mattress when we could easily move it first?
So naturally, I dropped the box spring where I stood (I may have spouted something here, but I take the 5th) and turned to exit the interior of the bed frame so I could move the bed to where it belonged.
In doing so, I didn’t quite clear the hurdle that was the side rail…tripped…and landed flat on my face (and boobs and belly and though I didn’t realize it at the time, my left wrist.)
(Did you know that OOF is a real sound? IT IS!)
Anyway, I gave a shout out to the Big Guy upstairs, thanking him for yet another reminder of my bad temper, cradled my wrist, and left the other big guy to finish. Turns out, the tendons on top of my left hand took the brunt, are strained, and yell at me when ever I lift my hand…but other than that, the other bruises will heal.
Considering my history, I’d say this was one of my better days. 🙂
I climbed the mountain that is my bed, and sat up for a while, thinking about the last 10 weeks {‘how the hell did we get through this without killing each other?’ was my predominant thought} realizing that it was going to be the first night since moving in, that I didn’t dread the following morning.
The nightmare was over.
That light at the end of the tunnel that everyone talks about is there.
I can see it.
Today is the first day for the rest of our lives.
Today is a day for emptying boxes, hanging pictures, filling bookcases, marinating steak to put on the grill…
Today is a day for doing NONE of those things because my hand is screaming.
Today is a day for waiting for tomorrow to try again.
Today is a day for blaming no one but myself for things going wrong.
Today is a day for eating humble pie with my grilled steak.
Today is also a day for giving thanks that we’ve made it through the nightmare still optimistic about tomorrow, regardless of what happened 10 weeks or 10 minutes ago.
Today…Is a Good Day!
It is also a day for meeting our new neighbors…they just moved in…next door…a cute couple…and she, like me, seems to be in charge of the house.
I wish them well.
I offer NO advice yet will keep my garden open to them.
Welcome new neighbors…when you get settled, stop by and we’ll sit and chew the suet and reminisce about Moving Day!
50 Shades of Gray Hair 
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