I can see clearly, now

You would think better vision would be a blessing but to me it's just worrisome. I've worn glasses with bifocals for the last ten years.; my reading vision being the worst. I can't read anything on the TV screen without my glasses but watching TV in bed I rarely wear them. The other night I noticed I could read the "crawl", that nasty little ticker tape of a message on the bottom of most news shows, without my glasses. I thought nothing of it. The next morning I could read some larger print items that the day before I would surely have needed my glasses.

After all day at my watercolor/drawing classes my near vision was back to abnormal but my distance vision is still somewhat improved. I could read street signs sans the glasses. It seems my better vision present is melting away like the witch in the Wizard of Oz. I really don't know who to thank for that "tender mercy."

Now I wish someone would let me understand this current administration, if only for a few days.

Now I'm learning Yiddish, too?

My Yiddish lesson on Wednesday was the word, ch-il-lay-la though I'm not so sure of the spelling. The ch is pronounced as if you are clearing phlegm from your throat. Such a funny word and it means a complainer. After dropping Dolores at her house I practiced this sound on the way home until my throat was dry. What a language, it can make you laugh and clear phlegm.

Igpay Atinlay and Dogus Latinus

The meaning of word I used in a previous post, uckfay, was questioned. I assumed all knew Pig Latin and tried to be kind to my more gentle readers. Not that most of my friends would cringe if I dropped the f-bomb, it's become the common, in the vernacular, but I do take my writing serious and always remember a teacher saying it was lazy to write relying on the language of the ordinary to get a point across.

Fuck, as definition in Wikipedia, is an offensive profanity but back to the Pig Latin. Pig Latin was made somewhat famous by the Three Stooges, ixnay or amscray is what I remember as a kid but it was my sister who first said "ukfay" and it has been a family curse ever since.

Fairly new to our lexicon is Dog Latin and anyone who's been forced to learn Latin at the hands of nuns or brothers will understand the fun of the phrase, Non illegitimis carborundum; don't let the bastards wear you down. Woof.

Auto shop 101

While having dinner with some friends last Friday evening the woman-sided conversation somehow turned to "why did these guys marry us?"

First some back story. All of all of these baby boomer folks are streetrod-related friends and we've known them for ages. The guys work on their own cars; my beloved being one of the greasiest. I knew he was greasy when I married him and sometimes it's caused frustration but maybe it's the grease that has lubricated our troubles because we've hung together for some 37 odd years. We've also made some very close friends; that's the balance. Lots of memories attached to those cars, some good, some evil but there's nothing like getting stuck on the side of the freeway and having a "car-guy" help you out.

Looking for a common thread I ask the group, the four couples sitting at our table were about the same age, if they'd ever helped in "bleeding the brakes"? Four hands shot up. The term is for a process of removing the air from brake lines after you've done something to the brakes. It seems to coincides with my beloved asking about my life insurance, I can't be sure.

I figure there is a big old greasy book in high school auto shop classes that is required reading for fifteen to eighteen-year-olds and here are a few passages:

• If you plan to change your brakes the use of a spouse/girlfriend is of up most importance. It is better to find one who can take orders without too much complaining.


• When you are in the middle of a particularly greasy under the car project there is nothing like a spouse/girlfriend to find that tool, that invariably rolls out of your reach, and retrieve it for you. Side note: Women have smaller hands and fingers for getting into small spaces or retrieve bolts that have fallen through. Related reading: chapters three and seven-What you can't say in mixed company or with small children when things fall out of your reach.
  


• Auto repair can be expensive, remember two incomes are much better than one.
  


• Paint job not what it should be? There is nothing like a pretty woman to distract from some minor imperfections.

Let me try to explain this procedure. It's a two person maneuver and only one needs any knowledge of auto mechanics. The mechanic lies somewhere out of view but not out of earshot. It must be uncomfortable because the patience level becomes strained if this job doesn't go smoothly. The other person sits in the driver's seat at the ready to depress the brake pedal when the mechanic says "ok." Sounds easy, right?

Him: Start pumping the pedal until it gets harder to push.
Me: How long do I pump it?
Him: UNTIL IT GETS HARDER TO PUSH. Then keep your foot on the pedal until I say to pump again.
Me: Ok, now?
Him: Yes.
Me: Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, ok.

Now the mechanic does something to make the pedal go to the floor. I have to admit the first time this happened I thought I'd done something wrong but he just said "ok, do it again." And again, and again and so on and this is just for the first wheel. You've four, you see, do pay attention. You can get into a rhythm of pumping and holding and then pumping again. Where you get into trouble, is in that rhythm, you forget to wait until the mechanic says, "ok."

Him, doing something with the brake line: ok, do it again.
Me: Pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, pump, ok.
Him: You let your foot off the pedal, didn't you?
Me, in an almost imperceivalbe voice: yes?
Him, with a sigh that speaks volumes: Ok, let's start again.

If you'd like to save your marriage/relationship don't what ever you do, don't lift your foot before the ok. In all fairness, this isn't fun laying on the ground in an awkward position trying to get the air out of the brake lines with a lunatic behind the wheel of your special car.

There was talk of a tool the mechanic could use instead of the spouse/girl friend and that would explain why I've not done this in a while. That and the fact I had a difficult time with waiting for the "ok."

They won't come back 'til it's over over there

Darling husband and I were discussing something a news reporter from Baghdad had to say about the troops. He says there are three types of soldiers there, and this isn't a direct quote.

• Truly committed to the goal of giving these bastards a stable government
• Doing a job
• Being there for the guy in the boots next to them

This brought to mind something his WWII served-in-England-flew-over-Germany-father told my darling husband.

"You go over for your country; you stay for your buddies."

Never really heard that one before but it does make sense. No glory, just do what is right at the moment. We will say nothing right now about why this current administration was nuts enough to get involved in the first place.

This makes it lots clearer. We've just sent them over for the wrong reasons. Our fault, not theirs.

Write your damn Senator! Just bring them home. And if anyone can tell me what the uck fay it means to win over there, you would be a genius, because the currrent administration sure can't.

Dianne Feinstein
Barbara Boxer

Editorial disclaimer: Darling husband, bless his soul, and I have similar core beliefs. This makes living together for our just past 37 years much easier. Anyone who knows him realizes he's not as vocal as I am.

Just eat it!

First my sister and brudder-out-law moving westerly and now this. Stem cells from fat transplanted into hearts to save lives. I can hear my next conversation with my Dr. "Sorry Doc, I'm not fat just growing some future stem cells."

Could life get any better right now?

Yeah, maybe if I won the Lotto but let's not hold out for that. Sister Weed has sold her house. Send up the balloons, strike up the band, and pinch me because she and her darling husband and cat will be heading for Arizona. This is the closest she's lived to us in more than thirty years.

I'm already planning little jaunts that way. I hope they get there before I do.

Welcome to one of the seven western states, sistah!

Keebler is short an elf

We've lost one of the truly original voices, Walker Edmiston passed away February 15. You may not have known his face but you'd surely remember H.R. Pufnstuff, Flintstones, and early Beany and Cecil among a myriad of other characters. His latest was Ernie the Keebler Elf.

His credits also included a variety of TV and movies with a number recurring roles.

Walker was also a car enthusiast and racer and the Roam'n Relics car club was lucky enough to have him as a member.

Your friends will miss you, Walker.
2/6/1926 • 2/15/2007

Unfortunate recipient of my rage

In my hurry to get home today I found myself behind a moron with a "Bush '04" bumper sticker and at each stop he was fumbling in the back seat for something. I couldn't put up with this any longer so I didn't just honk the horn, I laid on the horn. "Pay attention ya stupid idget." Oh yeah, I guess you can't pay attention, look who you voted for.

Desperate measures

It took me two weeks to finally kick this viraemea I had only to have darling husband come down with something equally as evil.

I'm sure what he had was contagious, hell, I gave it to him, but I'm not sure it was on the same level as Ebola. Desperate times call for desperate measures and poor guy was desperate to have some uninterrupted sleep.

This was just to keep people from ringing the damn door bell. It seemed when he was trying to nap there was a light that signaled everyone to approach our door, especially real estate agents.

This helped and even though he's on the mend I just might keep it for days when I just don't want to talk to people.

But wait, there's still more

While I was in bed and not sleeping I was watching an odd assortment of late night programming. The paid advertising shows, which are thirty minute commercials, are incredible. They have to employ a lot of people. I started scanning the crowds and switching from channel to channel to see if I saw any repeats in the audiences. This leaves you little time to actually understand what they are pitching but it makes the time just scoot by. They must make some sort of profit or why would they advertise so much.

I can't say which is my favorite, Ron Popiel or some bimbo/moron used-to-be-a-child-actress/actor selling exercise equipment. It's nice to know they are still working albeit 3:00 am. I think Hillary Clinton is selling something but I could have been hallucinating then.

Now the actual commercials aren't any better. I'm naive enough to be shocked at the Girls Gone Stupid videos you can purchase--all with a money back guarantee. Just what does that guarantee read like? So do they charge you credit card with "College sluts doing their damnedest not to study" or is it something generic like "education videos"? When your wife mentions an odd charge do you fess up or just scream Identity Theft!?

The one for hair plugs takes the Golden Globe for stupidity. They show a few before and after shots and the last one is of guy with a quarter sized mole on his face stating how much this new hair has done for his self esteem. Self esteem? Did he think people stared at him because of this balding head? Hell no. They were waiting to be introduced to that thing on this face.

Listen, most women don't care a hoot if you're bald but things hanging off your face, whew, that's another matter. If it's big enough to have it's own gravity take care of it. I think there is an infomercial for that very thing.

Open wide

Well, I'm sitting up and taking nourishment. Darling husband is whiz-bang at heating things in the microwave and more than willing to run out and get me anything I need. Have to pass on a few things right yet but the soup has been a godsend. Trader Joe's makes this cream of tomato in box that is great so was pleased he could get me a cup warmed.

What made me feel better? I succumbed to marketing and husband snagged me some Mucinex, well generic version, and it seemed to work quite well. I can never tell whether it's the cold taking it's course or it actually does something to help. My dad used to say, "To get over a cold it takes a week unless you go to the Dr and then it takes 7 days." I didn't laugh at that until I got a lot older.

Since I've caught up on all the old movies I can handle I think I'll get up and "blow the stink off of me" which is another Dad wisdom. He was sure if you got up you'd feel better which in most cases that works. I was stoic when it came to work. Don't get me wrong if I was contagious I stayed away but if I was still working I would not be languishing in bed. Ah, another early-retirement benny.

All this resting got me thinking of some of my childhood illness, which because I was Asthmatic were numerous. Once, when I had some ear-infected-snotty-nose-cough type of illness I awoke in the middle of the night crying. My dad was the first one there with the cough medicine and poured me a big old spoon full without turning on the light. Bleck! It was sweet oil something that was put in your ear if you had an ear ache and unfortunately the same size bottle as the cough medicine. It was a long time before I cried in the middle of the night again. Being a parent is difficult, especially at four-in-the-morning. Thanks, Gene.

Shhhhh, she's resting

Crap! I've got a cold. I think the last cold was when I came back from Indiana last May and that was because we spent so much time around smokers. This seems to be a regular, get a fever, sneeze, cough and feel crummy for five days cold.

A friend said, "take Zicam, it is a miracle." Well it's a miracle I can stake the stuff. I opted for the tablet that melts in your mouth. Ugh. Taste like sucking on a drain pipe. Dan says he never saw anything get so sick so quick so I guess we can stop taking the Zicam. Good it made my tongue feel like it had a little furry coat on that tasted like some old ABC* cherry gum.

Lil bird, who just had the same stuff says, "Musinex is the best!" My sister swears by Theriflu. I'd love to soak in a blistering hot bath but with my recent episode with dry skin, that's out. I think I'll just stick to the home remedies. Rest, lots of fluids, chicken soup and hot lemon water with honey. If that doesn't work, a slug or two of brandy would be just fine. Can't hardly take too much; you pass out before you overdose.

If you all aren't sick you can struggle on over to Peanut Butter Étouffee. We are having a food challenge.

*ABC- already been chewed

Tools for a healthier life

Suffering from dry skin this time a year isn't real life threatening but it sure is uncomfortable. After a rather irritating weekend I decided to check some websites for info. I love the Mayo Clinic site, so informative and very easy to find things. Low and behold, they have a section on dry skin.

The causes are what you would think and yes, I take blistering hot showers so that will have to stop. Another good point they made was even in winter it's easy to get dehydrated so remember, drink your water. Water seems to be the key in almost everything. Could be our bodies are mostly water, mine has it's share of fat but it's good to be reminded to drink more.

So I'm off to the store to find some of the creams they recommend and then into a nice lukewarm bath. Ahhh, relief at last.

Only one year ago

This blog is more than a year old so I was looking back to last January and I had only one post. It was about our remodel of bathroom number one and the agony of having only one functioning bathroom. Spoiled, really spoiled.

It seems amazing that it's been a year since that bath was finished, time does move forward. Now I find it difficult to remember the old bath with it's clunky dark shower and the horrible ugly vinyl flooring, ugh, so seventies.

There are a few projects still left to be done, paint the living room, flooring in my office and the guest bedroom and I must think of something fun to do in there. Darling husband has been busy installing a new heater and A/C and the heater came in the nick of time but I have little to do with these jobs. I've lost the momentum needed to finish these projects. I need some house guests to make me more organized. Maybe I could rent out the front bedroom? I do have two bathrooms, now.

Life sized at the Getty Center

My life at the Getty has become so much busier now that I'm giving tours but for the rest of the month I'll be happy to be inside. It's damn cold up on the hill right now and last Wednesday we had thunder, rain, hail and a double rainbow.

Inside this month we have a wonderful experience for visitors. Clara. She is a life size painting by Jean-Baptiste Oudrey of a rhinoceros and she is getting a spa treatment in the East Art Information room. Her treatment consists of some fancy cleaning and retouching done by one of the conservators, Mark. He does his work on display but on Wednesdays from 2:30 to 3:00 he answers questions from the crowd.

If you're in town before the end of January do drop by and see Clara and Mark. If you can't make it then plan to come in May when she'll be on display with others in the menagerie.

This is a test. If it were a real emergency …

Last night was girl's night out. Darling husband was at sweet daughter's house getting ready to make a new roof so a lady friend and myself had dinner and went to the picture show. When over it was late, for us, but since she is single said what the hey to a cup of tea at my house. She left after 11:00 and since there was zip on the TV I did some writing.

Very silent house except the clinking of the keyboard so you could hear any little noise the house makes. Just me and Buddy.

Let's have a bit of back-story here. We have a Carbon Dioxide detector that has been relegated to the garage. Seems as though the "chirps" it makes ever now and again makes the terrier certifiable. He will actually climb up in your lap, no matter where you are--note to self: close the bathroom door all the way--and quiver like the hounds of hell are pursuing him. We've had this problem before and that is why the current detector is out of his earshot, or so I thought.

Buddy was the first to hear the chirp and I should have known. Usually if you are up late he just heads off to bed. "See ya in the morning, don't forget to lockup." He was right next to my chair when I heard the detector hit the high note again but it is always one of the those, "Did I hear something?"

The next time it was unmistakable, at least for the dog because all of his 27 lbs leaped into my arms and refused to get down. With some soothing I convinced him off my keyboard and I was out to the garage. I yanked the detector from it's plug and showed Buddy. "See, I've slayed your dragon my great protector, now go to bed." Which he did until the damn thing set off again. Seems like I forgot to also pull the battery. Now there was nothing else to do with except shut down the computer and be off to bed where he slept closer to me than ever.

Some of you safety people are saying, "How could you disabled the detector; maybe there was actually a problem?" Not to worry, I have another one and it said on the case, chirpping every three minutes is a malfunction. It's off to Lowes this morning to buy a new one.

Who knows what that noise means to him. It is loud but not as ear piercing as the actual alarm. It's constant but only every three minutes when it's in the malfunction mode. Well at least we don't have to worry about not hearing the alert, Buddy will keep us safe long before the carbon monoxide gets us.

Look Ma, no cavities!

Most regular readers know Buddy, the wire-haired terrorists. He's our eleven-year-old darling doggy and after a trip to the vet last November he was told by Dr Ron to lose a few pounds, three to be exact. Now this is not to say he's fat, just a tad over his fighting weight. So we stopped with all the "people food," which we thought was a good way to diet. Buddy didn't agree but us being the dutiful pet parents that we are we stuck with this new regimen.

Yesterday Buddy had an appointment to have his teeth cleaned. This was his first time. We've never had a dog with dental problems so why subject him was my thought. Anyway he did just fine, not a bad tooth in the lot and even had a blood test to say his insides were just as good.

And how did the diet work, she asks? Buddy proudly jumped on the scale and as the number rose my heart sank. He did not lose one ounce, not one. Of course he didn't gain anything, that would have been pure agony, but he really hasn't been eating anything close to what he did before November. Either this mutt is ordering pizza while we are away or we just don't understand how much to feed a dog. Back to the drawing board on this one. Poor Buddy.

No more troops

You have a bucket of water
You put your fist in the water
You remove your fist--
Were you ever there?

How's adding twenty thousand more fists going to ensure victory?

You may write President Bush.

You may have noticed

A few things have changed but not the author. Darling Blogger had a fit and we had to all change to the new version. I thought it time to do a few updates but nothing radical. The new template has a bit different way of handling the archive but everything else seems the same.

Hey, a girl has to change here style once in a while.