Dentist the menace

I hate the dentist. It's always painful and this time it was a big ol' poke in the wallet. Yikes, I'd been shopping for a new laptop and bought a bridge instead. I guess I'll have to baby this old computer along for a few more months and baring anymore mega dental bills I'll have a new laptop by November. Watch the post fly, then.

Travelog

It was this hot.

So we went here, ahhhhhh.

This one is too funny to ignore

You are on a horse, galloping at a constant speed. On your right side is a sharp drop-off, and on your left side is an elephant traveling at the same speed as you. Directly in front of you is a galloping kangaroo and your horse is unable to overtake it. Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the Kangaroo. What must you do to safely get out of this highly dangerous situation?


Get your drunk ass off the Merry-Go-Round!

She shoots; she scores

My elbow has been just cranky for the past few weeks. Darling husband says I slug him during the night when he snores but I doubt it would give me this much trouble. Jeeze, I've been slugging him for years.

So off to the Dr and I was sure it would be a long-expensive-xray-filled visit but it wasn't. He looked and twisted and poked and said I had tennis elbow which is interesting because that's the closest I'd come to playing a sport since I played Foosball in a bar.

He did have a suggestion: wear this tight little band below the elbow and it keeps the tendon from irritating the joint. I was a bit skeptical but thought I'd at least give it a week or so and to my utter amazement, the damn thing seems to work. I can't say I'm cured but I could actually lift a grocery bad with my left hand something that yesterday would have made me grimace with pain.

This guy impressed me. Not only did he have an answer for my pain, he didn't prescribe pain medication or run a bunch of tests and the brace cost all of fifteen buck.

And to boot, I've got a new sport, tennis. Who's to know.

It's too damn hot!

Max and Multi can't hardly stand the heat anymore. Please Congress do what you can for global warming.

Moon dust gets in your eyes

On July 20, 1969, Commander Neil Armstrong became the first man on the moon. He said the historic words, "One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind."

On July 20, 1969, my first date with darling husband was at a moon landing party. We will celebrate 37 years of marriage next January.

BTW: Sister also had a date with her husband at the same party. These two guys said they were drunk but we think it was moon dust.

Buy American, bye-bye

It is way too hot to do much of anything so last Friday darling husband and I went to the movies. Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest had been out for a while so we hoped for no long lines or screaming kiddies. We were right on both wishes and got there just as the opening credits started.

Not that I've paid much attention in the past, and can't say why I did this time, but in the opening of this Disney film they played "When you wish upon a star" while the Disney Pictures logo, the Magic Castle, glitters on the screen. I could be wrong but it seems that was the way the "Wonderful World of Disney," a television program from my childhood, started. For an all to brief moment I felt very happy, secure and in my jammies waiting for the Adventures of the Swamp Fox or Davy Crockett. No global-warming-war-in-iraq-current-administration angst; just a fifty year old memory of better times.

Don't you wish you could carry a bit of that in your pocket to pull out and dab on when you encounter stress?

Take that you Cheney; now get back into my closet or at least under the bed.

Stay away you oil executives; slide back in your hole where you belong.

Disappear Ford Motor Company; you bastards won't even invest in your own damn country.

Oh, and the President said "shit" today. I feel the magic, don't you?

DC dilemma

Darling husband and I are taking a trip to our nation's capital in September. We are both excited to go to the Smithsonian and I was told if you contact your senators or representative you could get passes to see Congress in session or tickets for tours of the Supreme Court and the like.

Ok, here's my problem. I think my representative is a goofball. How can I write and ask for anything because I already write him when I think he's done something stupid. You think my name will pop up in a "don't give this liberal jack … " list? I think it will.

There's always my senators Diane and Barbara but I've not been too thrilled with them lately and there was this one letter I wrote after Katrina. I'm sure they won't have remembered, right?

Too sexy for his shades

Buddy is way too cool for any explanation.

Sue-approved gingersnaps

Our 4th of July tradition for more than twenty years has been to attend a pool party with lots of people, bbq and fireworks. The party, originally hosted by Sue and Nelson Christensen, is now being featured at their daughter and son-in-law's, Donatello and Blondie. If you are a regular reader, surprisingly I have a few, you know we lost our dear friend Sue in May.

So this is how the party goes: Splash, splash, eat, drink, talk, laugh and wait for Sue to bring out her two famous cookies, chocolate chip and gingersnap. All the splash, drink, eat, talk comes to a halt for these gems and to honor her the family asked attendees to make her gingersnaps.

Ah, another contest. Rules were: the winner would be the cookie closest to Sue's. How could I turn down another contest. I'd had her recipe and made it twice to come close. I guess I was closer than anyone else because of the five entries, I won.

I was glad they liked the cookies but even more glad to get the "trophy" which is pictured below. It's a spoon from her kitchen mounted on a bread board. Now I think of Sue every time I see it.

Well, does he?

If a bear shits in the wood he evidently drives there in a '64 Sky Lark.

Leaving the car with paw prints and cheese on the seats just isn't the "good neighbear" that I know.

No, you keep it

Once again, I was at the Getty Villa last week. I should move to Malibu, ha! Like I could afford a post box in that zip code. I was also lucky to be with daughter; a last minute addition since her father couldn't make it and I'm always glad when she can.

The evening lecture was on a closing exhibit, Molten Glass, and even though the curator of the exhibit read her presentation it was quite interesting. This woman could have spoken for hours about this subject but choose to read it instead and daughter said, it only makes you realize how difficult it is to present and appreciate the really good speakers. She could be right.

A bonus of attending a Getty Villa lecture at night is the opportunity to visit the gallery after. We skipped the reception and headed into the museum but not before we had a look in the main garden. The moonlight on the reflecting pool was spectacular. Moonlight in Malibu is different, I believe.

Daughter got to meet a docent friend of mine and her accompanying husband, Al. He comes with her to all the lectures so I've gotten to know him. Last time he brought me a yellowed, clipped from a 1989 magazine, article on authenticating ancient marble sculptures that references a piece before the Getty bought it. This time it's a piece from the New Yorker, 1957. You see, when Al reads an article he snips it and saves it to read again and over the years has amassed quite a box. He is now trying to get rid of them and I'm part of his dispersal program. Does he want them back? Nope, give them away he says.

The problem is, now I can't throw them away. They are like a piece of sticky paper stuck to your shoe. First they were in the living room, then they migrated to the kitchen, and finally I've moved them to my office. I've read them and now I can't decide what to do with them. Why is it so difficult to toss these? It's like old magazines. I wonder if I should put these on Craig's List?

How simple is simple?

Potato salad is an American staple for the summer and I make a pretty good one and trust me, it's a very simple recipe. I like it but I still can't figure what makes people rave about it when I take it to potlucks.

When it comes to recipes I can't imagine not sharing them and because people have ask I've posted my recipe on Peanut Butter Étouffee. Try it, share it with friends just don't ask me to make it again for a while.

One year and counting

Today is special. Not in a big way, most people don't know about it but I've finished my first year of retirement. In the spirit of celebration, all of us celebrate differently, I thought I'd put fingers to keys this morning and reflect on what I've accomplished.

I left my job while I still loved it and, most importantly, it loved me. I wasn't pushed out and could have stay much longer but I was ready, oh so ready to move home. I'd seen some people outlive there jobs and stay way too long so their retirement was a celebration not only for them, but their co-workers. Leave them laughing and always wanting more.

We've nearly finished the house inside remodel. Just a few flooring issues and paint and we can start on the outside. It has been fun and not as frustrating as I thought. I learned that darling husband has a few more talents than I ever imagined. He has become the Tile Master; sound the trumpets. Not that he's quick, he'll be the first to admit he isn't but he is precise and that is important as well.

The Getty Center wanted me back. I'm working at least once a week on the hill and loving everything. As a bonus I've made a few new friends, Dolores and Lorrie and I have to be honest I enjoy their company as much as being a docent.

I see my daughter more. The two years in Bakersfield left a void in my soul for that girl and now I can have lunch or drop by or do something in the evening with her. Priceless.

My sister and I've become closer. We traveled together to Indiana in May and, even though the Indians tried to kill us, we had a great time. I look forward to her visit to California in August and once she moves to Arizona, someone please go to Florida and buy her house, I'm sure we can spend some more time together. As she says, stay tuna'd!

My darling companion and I have stayed good friends. Sure, there are the occasional disagreements but we had those while I was working, too. What's the secret? We have our own things to do but still enjoy each other's company. I've learned to paint, he's learned how to lay tile. I docent at the Getty, he still enjoys all his old car functions. But, if we need a little change, he's the first to offer a drive to the beach or lunch out and we always enjoy walking Buddy together.

So, I've done a lot and we're lucky because there's much more to do. I want to travel and we're planning a trip to New Jersey to see his cousins and then to DC to see the Smithsonian. Washington has been on my wish list for years so I'm thrilled. We still need to do more beach camping. I need to become a better painter both on canvas and walls, he needs to tile our daughter's downstairs, and we both need to lose some weight. I want us to be able to stay healthy.

Ok so I'm a lucky girl. I left work at 55 and no, we don't eat dog food. We were good savers in our early years and because we've stayed in the same house, were able to pay it off long ago and plunk lots-o-money into our retirement savings. Ah, say 401K and repeat it over and over.

One last thing, after reading little bird's blog I started one, then sister, then the three of us started Peanut Butter Étouffee and that has been a blast so far.

Whew, I'm going to take a nap but check back next year for another follow-up.

Dreamland has no zipcode

The other morning my sister in Florida called and woke me and while talking to her I staggered to the kitchen to make my morning tea. I still had the remnants of sleep to get rid of but when she said the word "dream" it triggered my memory.

"I dreamed you sold your house," I shouted.

Dreams are so fleeting for me. I read an article on how to remember your dreams but it was no help to me. They say if you want to remember you need to make a note the moment you wake, don't even sit up and don't think of anything else. My problem is I wake up and all I think of is "full bladder" and as soon as I flush the dream is gone except for silly little shreds that don't make much sense.

She stopped her story and asked me for details. Oh, do you think I could remember? No, I'd flushed since then.

Hail Cesar Millan

If you've seen National Geographic's TV program The Dog Whisperer I'm sure you've wondered if Cesar's technique could work magic on say, your kids, spouse, or boss. I'm here to tell you my friend Teresa has perfected something close.

At a party last weekend I was talking with Bobby, her husband and somehow we got on the topic of the Dog Whisperer and how it was Teresa's favorite show. With the conversations still going on, somewhere in the back of my mind I'm thinking, they don't have a dog, do they? We were interrupted by Teresa.

"Bobby, come in the house I want to show you something."

"Not now," he said.

"Yes, now, I want you to see this."

"No."

She uttered the now famous "shhhhht" that Cesar uses on unruly dogs and he quietly got up to follow her.

"I love Cesar," she said, "see it even works on husbands."

It wouldn't work for me, my spouse would just stare at me and walk away, not unlike the dog.

Homeland Security's newest weapon against terrorism

Nothing says patriotism like a 20-foot eagle on the 4th of July though this one looks a bit menacing. Take that al Qaeda!

And, on a lighter note:

Man wakes up with light bulb in his anus. You heard that right, don't make me repeat it! Jeeze, sometimes I break them while bringing them home from the store. Little did I know you were supposed to carry them that way. Where can I buy candles?

Here taco, taco

I don't usually mix food with this blog, Peanut Butter Étouffee takes care of that, but there is a blog, The Great Taco Hunt and it is more fun than a cold beer on a Friday night.

Bandini travels the streets of Los Angeles--and surrounding areas--stalking for the perfecto taco. His imaginative reviews of taco stands, and as of late taco truck, is a true guide of Los Angeles. Now there's something I've never tried, rolling tacos. He rates the taco sellers and even has his reviews broken down by area; I've got to try Tacos Chatos in West LA.

I feel so sorry for people who don't live in Southern California, they don't know what they are missing.