Happy New Year!

Em said to me yesterday "Hey, it's New Year's and I haven't made a revolution!" Yeah, thank god, because that would be scary having her lead a revolution.

Here's to a year full of happiness and laughter. Lots of laughter.

Pin Free in 2012

You know you are pathetic when the one qualification for a rockin' New Year's Eve is that you get the pin out of your toe.  Sigh.  Yeah, sadly, that's me. But I am very excited to be taking FrankinToe into 2012 without stitches, pins, or surgical shoe.  I will be glad to welcome in 2012 with a straight toe and real shoes....on both feet.

I typically do a Dead List right about now to wrap up the past year (you know, a recap of all those we lost this year)--but I'm happy to report I don't have a list this year.  I think there was one escapee frog who spent a few days at the neighbor's pond, but even he got smart and came home.  Leaving = death for the most part--frogs don't get that.  So, anywho, we don't have a Dead List for 2011. I kinda like that. I hope 2012 continues the trend.

We took the family to see "War Horse" last night for a little fun family outing.  Criminy--that is one emotionally exhausting film. Wow.  While it was a good film, I wouldn't advise it if you are on anti-depressants. I guess I never thought about the horses they used in wars, and while this must have been a watered-down portrayal, it was hard to see what they endured.   Em looked at me numerous times in the movie and said "Nice, fun family movie, Mom."  Yeah, whatever. I didn't know.  I guess I owe them a trip to see the Muppet movie to make up for it.

So, what are you doing for New Year's Eve??  Me, I'm taking the tree down, packing up the train, and watching HAPPY movies. 

Hobbeszilla!

Everyone asks, and no, the kitties don't bug the train or the village. Really.  Maybe it's because they are bored with it and spend the day sleeping, or it's the periodic running of the train that spooks the crap out of them---I don't know.  Either way, the answer is no, the kitties leave the train and village alone.

Both kitties do enjoy a good nappy under the tree every now and then, though.  But amazingly, they don't knock a thing down.  Not even the precariously perched herds of reindeer.....or random hobo camps around the back of the tree.  Seriously, not a wee cow or tree gets knocked down. 

Maybe they just know that I'll go nuts on them and it isn't worth the effort.  Hmmm.....

I love when I go into the family room and just see a orange stripey face under the tree. I'm impressed with his ability to maneuver under there without taking down a building or two. You know, if I could fit, I'd hide under there too. 

The fascination with the Pope and his pals is always short-lived---especially when you've got a comfy new blankie awaiting.

A big thank you to Anita's Mom who sent over blankies for both kitties this Christmas!  They are a HUGE hit with the kitties.  Hobbes thinks this one is his mother--a purple mother, no less. 

You gotta get low to see the really good stuff...

We're like kids when it comes to the train set and village--as Christmas nears, we start perusing the Walther's catalog which features all things "train".  Joe earmarks his picks and I earmark mine--of course, they are never the same--and they are never cheap.  I think you can figure out who picked what when you see the following photos.

Some items take a few years to come to fruition as the picture in the catalog and the reality of gluing a million wee parts come together.  Take for example the tennis courts--meant for a train display, this bad boy has been sitting in the box for nearly 20 years.  It finally made it to a balsa wood base this year, including grass, trees, and a sandy parking lot.  I think it turned out pretty good for a moveable display.

Then there is the homeless lady.  Every town has one, I guess we had to have one too. 

Looks like Santa was at the depot picking up a new girlfriend. Sheesh, like one hot dame wasn't enough for the old guy?  If Mrs. Santa gets wind of this.........

Two guesses who picked out the Santa Twins.  Hint: It was not me.

The KFC, drunken goats, and Evita Peron

They're all under my tree, believe it or not.

I finally got down under there (no, I wasn't passed out) to take photos of the train village this Christmas. It gets harder and harder to get down there as years go on--especially with a surgical shoe on one foot. But I did so--with some struggle. Sheesh, the things I do for your entertainment and mine.

While the village is pretty much the same buildings each year, we do mix it up a bit with new additions and placement of certain folks--that darn pope gets around you know.  So, with much anticipation, here is a tour of our wee train village:

Street view:  Oh! There's the KFC on the left!

The movie theater on the right. Look for the hooker!

For Pricilla and Melodie:  We have goats.

(uh oh, looks like he got into the nog...)

For Daisy, Beaded Tail and Marg:  We have kitties. 

Looks like he's waiting for someone to let him in for supper.

Here's the train depot--for people who dress only in blue.

(Note to decorating committee: mix up the people a bit next year)

And......

(drumroll please)

The Pope!

What a nut.  He found himself a balcony and now he's doing his

best "Evita" impression. Shhhhh....if you close you eyes,

you can almost hear him sing...

"Don't cry for me, Argentina....." 

And notice who is completely ignoring him....

hooker gal in silver pants.

Criminy. No matter where that guy goes...'ole Silver Pants is never far behind. 

(I think she has a crush on him)

You never know what you are gonna find under that tree in that village.  Oh, there is more. I haven't even shown you the new stuff yet. And we have cool new stuff!

And in case you were wondering....it was much harder to get up from taking these photos than it was getting down there. 

The Day After

I think I like the day after almost as much as Christmas day.  There's no meal to prepare, no rushing to get to here or there.  The gifts have all been opened and the mess cleaned up.  We all slept in and are hanging out in our pajama pants--no fighting to get in the shower this morning. 

I like that you can eat whatever you want whenever you want. There is no saving the cheeseball for company or Christmas cookies for later--dig in, I say--even if it is for breakfast. It's probably the one day a year where you can look like a slob, lay around all day and play with your toys, and get away with it.

Even the kitties seem a little lazier than usual today.  Moving past their morning kitty food, heading towards the couch and chair, Hobbes and Grace didn't even have the energy to swat one another.  Oh, you can say it is the Christmas spirit, but I know better.  They are just too pooped to battle today.

While I love Christmas and New Year's like the rest us, it is the day after that I think is the real holiday. 


Excuse me while I head over to the couch by the fire....

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, pallies! I wish you all peace, love, and some fun this holiday season.

Cool Stuff and Disasters

If you wonder if I really do all those wacky things I tell you about here at the Duck and Wheel, the answer is yes, I really do.

As I returned to work this week after toe surgery, I dragged in four bags of supplies to make gingerbread houses.  I'm not sure why I get these ideas, but this year I decided we should have a gingerbread house decorating contest in the office.  And why I have to do this after toe surgery--I don't know.  It's just me, making life more difficult....and fun.

And while there were some initial eye rolls and snarky comments, I soon found the co-workers sneaking into the lunchroom to create their...uh...masterpieces.  It was hilarious.  Some of these beastly creations were almost too heavy to lift.  And the competition?  Downright intense.

I snagged a couple of maintenance guys to judge and there were 1st and 2nd place ribbons with prizes.  We even had the requirement of having to move your house from the work table to the judging table--you know, like all those cake decorating shows on the Food Network.  It was all....well...non-work-like. Which was perfect because nobody wants to work around the holidays anyway.

(If you were wondering:  Yolanda, quietest gal in the office, won the contest. Irene's Pink Parfait Penthouse didn't even place. I think she is sad about that.)

I'm just bummed that these didn't fit on the mantle of the cardboard fireplace I set up in the front office the week before.  Which reminds me--I need to get photos of that too.  Sure, I got funny looks on that bad boy, but it made them laugh.  I'm telling you, there is no ambiance like that of a fireplace--even if it is cardboard.

And speaking of wacky ideas....

I decided that since we didn't have snow outside, I was gonna take a photo of me and the kitties by the tree for this year's blog Christmas card.  AND I was going to include BOTH kitties--not just Hobbes.

This was not such a great idea.

It got ugly..........fast.

Seriously, I was lucky to escape with my eyeballs intact. 

And while some of my great ideas are just that (gingerbread house contest at work AND a spiffy cardboard fireplace---complete with stockings...), there are some other ideas that should......uh......just not go into effect.

I Love Hobbes Thursday

Just days before Santa is due to arrive, Hobbes somehow managed to lose his snappy "Peace" collar outside somewhere.  It might have been intentional to ditch that annoying warn-the-birds bell,  because he thought he was super-stealth and all sneaky-like with nothing giving his whereabouts away. I swear he was smiling, knowing we couldn't hear his comings and goings.

Yeah/no.

That doesn't work too well around here, so I dug around in the kitchen drawer until I found a replacement--Grace's old Christmas collar from years ago. So, now he's sportin' a girlie collar for Christmas.  And typical of our family, that doesn't go without a bit of razzin'.

I told him (loudly) that he now looked like a girl as I clicked it around his orange stripey neck, and I told him to go find his old collar--you know, the very cool, manly one.  He didn't flinch.

Joe laughed and told him he looked ridiculous.

Em told him he even sounded like a girl with that little tinky-tink sound that the replacement collar made.

Still nothing. He doesn't care.  Hobbes could care less if he looks ridiculous or not--he struts around proudly regardless. Nothing bothers that cat--well, unless he can't go outside.

I finally gave in and bought him a new collar for Christmas today--I couldn't stand the sight of that cat in a girlie collar.  He just looked so darn silly--that big moose in a delicate pink-colored collar.

That's the thing about orange stripes--they go with everything.

Things to do when my foot is healed

Aw, man....if only my foot was better....

Being Santa ain't Easy

While my kids aren't greedy or demanding, there are always a few "wishes" here and there--you know, comments about wanting their own car, a bigger house, more money, nicer things.  All things that normal teenagers say and want.  And while Joe and I are not rolling in cash, we certainly provide a nice life for these two and they don't want for much.

But it is hard these days to keep your kids centered. With all the media pushing excess on every level, it's hard to raise kids who don't want for more.  Heck, even I want more most of the time--I just don't want to pay for it.  So, there we are, in our wee abode, trying to teach our kids that it isn't "stuff" that matters.  Do they get it?  I doubt it, but still, we try.


This week, Em and her friends "adopted" a family with the Honor Society this Christmas.  Each of the girls contributed a wee bit of cash and they all went shopping for their family--a single mom with two small children.  The girls didn't have much money, but their dreams for what they were going to buy were huge, so I matched their money and made some suggestions for good gift ideas. They were off to make a nice Christmas for this family--even with limited funds.

Em walked in the door last night, excited to show me what they had bought. And as she laid it all on my bed, her eyes dropped as she realized that the money they had spent doesn't go all that far--and they still hadn't gotten the mom anything for Christmas.  It's a tough lesson on love, money, holidays, and the season of giving--or not, if you don't have it give.

As we wrapped the presents, we talked a lot about Christmas and being a parent who can't give to her babies.  We chatted about the heartbreak of having someone else choose and wrap your child's gifts, about the possibility of no gifts at all, or the pain in having to tell your little ones that Santa may not come to their house this year. It's a brutal awakening when you realize that there are children out there who want and need....legitimately. 

We have talked about this before, but I'm not sure it ever got to Em like it did last night.  As she wrote Santa's name on the packages, I think she finally saw it--that there are kids out there who have nothing.  Sure, we've done the mitten tree at church before, but this is the first time that Em actually held a handwritten note from a mom wanting Christmas for her children.  And she also realized how hard it is to make a big Christmas out of very little money.

I think Em has a new respect for Santa.....and parents.

Counting down...

The weekend project consisted of putting up the real tree. Oh, we've had the fake one up in the front of the house for weeks now, but the real one doesn't go up until the last minute.  While I love the smell and all, I get a little anxious to take it down when it starts getting dry.  It's not the fire hazard but the thought of all those needles...

Joe was on "light" duty:

I think we got every ornament on the tree this year.  It is a beastly tree--huge and fat and full of branches to hang all 2739 ornaments I own. Even the lame ones that the kids made when they were little.  Criminy, Emma is so darn proud of those things. Ugh.

And yes, we did tinsel again this year.  It's like an old-fashioned Christmas tree. So lovely. 

So inviting to the cats....

Well, except for this one--he wasn't really helping much, but you know he's gonna be under that beast before I can crank out the first verse of  "O Tannenbaum".

With a bit of snow, some hokey carols, and a bit of arguing (it's not family time until we argue about something)--we got the tree up. We are officially ready for Christmas.

And the village.....

The little people are in the midst of moving in for the holidays.  Last I heard, the Pope was on his way....

Let's kick it into gear...

One of my band pallies mentioned last night that it just doesn't "feel" like Christmas yet. Maybe it's the lack of snow or that we are just putting up the real tree this weekend, but I had to agree with her. So, I'm posting a video I found last year to sort of get us in the mood.

I personally like the star. And Innkeeper #2.




Excuse me while I go put up my tree. And the train. (I know you have all been secretly waiting for the train)

Mercury Glass and Miscellanea

Gees, I love mercury glass.  I can't go near the stuff without touching it, wanting it, sighing deeply and saying "Man, I love mercury glass".   I keep telling Em that when I'm dead, she's gonna remember two things about me: 1) I made a mean meatloaf and 2) I loved mercury glass.  I envision them standing at my casket saying those two things--is that weird?

Hey, remember all that silly Glee voting we did for our band? Yeah, that was a bust--we didn't get a stinkin' dime.  Bummer, eh?  The kids are so disappointed.  I'm hoping the bands that got the money truly needed it because we are gonna be stuck in the lovely colors of orange and brown uniforms for I-don't-know-how-many-more-years.  And let me tell ya, orange and brown is tough to pull off--it's a god-awful combination. But I truly appreciate your help with the voting--we place 20th in the nation, which was great! That alone was a big morale boost for the kids. Thank you for voting for us.

Stupid Glee.

Oh--another update. Remember my post on obituaries and how they should be fun and representative of who we really are in our lives? I'm sure you didn't go back and read all the comments, but the nephew of the lady whose obituary I referred to wrote the most incredible comment to my post.  It read:

"Mary Corbett was my aunt and her sister, my mother, somehow stumbled upon this blog post and shared it with me. I think I can speak for the entire family and Mary herself by saying that your post and thoughts would've tickled her immensely. What wasn't said in that too-short obituary is that Mary learned how to play the bagpipes at the unusual age of 48, an age many say is too old to learn such a difficult instrument. Not only did she learn how to play the pipes passionately, she went on to play in the esteemed Shannon Rovers and even founded another Chicago pipes band. My wife and I were very lucky to have Mary play the pipes at our wedding, as she had for many other cousins and relatives.

Thank you for spotting something in the "wee space" of Mary's obituary and interpreting it in a way that is so reflective of the positive, fun and—at times—wacky life that Mary lived. You nailed it"

Isn't that fun?  I found it great fun that Mary was a hoot in real life--just like I picked up from her obituary.  Some comments just make your day, you know?

My final bit of randomness comes from my cousin Kelly's wedding this summer.  After comparing notes at Thanksgiving, we realized that there was a crasher at her wedding. Seriously.

And you won't believe who:

Yep. Weird old guy.  Wasn't invited, but showed up anyway.  Oh, but he brought a nice gift and was quite the hit on the dance floor. We had a good chuckle over that one.  So, can you blame wedding crashing on senility?

Okay, that's it for randomness and my week of recuperation from foot surgery.  Of course I didn't do half the things I wanted to, like watch every holiday movie I own, make the miniature cemetery for the train set, or download all my videos to YouTube.  Sigh. I need another week off.....

Happy Weekend, pallies!

I Love Hobbes Thursday - Nurse Ratched

And here is my other nurse--Nurse I-can't-be-bothered-with-moving-over-so-you-can-rest-your-hurty-foot. 

While Grace has been at my side and sleeping on my pillow, Nurse Hobbes is about standing at the back door, mewing loudly, demanding to be let outside and back in about a cabillion times a day.  Either that or he insists on standing on my chest  while I'm trying to sleep off any foot pain I may have.  Yeah, he's a real compassionate nurse, I tell ya.  Criminy.

I've finally figured out how to dodge 'ol Nurse Ratched--I turn crank up the fireplace and watch him snuggle in his basket. That way he toasts himself into oblivion and leaves me the heck alone.  It's the only peace I get.

Where do they get these nurses these days?

We need an intervention...

Oh, deer!

No, not for me and the pain meds.....

for Joe--he is addicted to.....of all things.......

jasmine rice.

Yeah, I know, it's ugly.  It's not easy to talk about either, let me tell you.  Try explaining that to your family and friends--it's embarrassing.

It all started with a vegan recipe book.  He took to the veggies and the tofu alright, but he was completely smitten with the suggested rice.  Raised on white rice, Joe stretched his culinary palate and dabbled in brown rice at one point--but nothing compared to the glory of jasmine rice. Once he tried it, he was hooked.

You gotta see him--all hunched over his plate, humming to himself as he shovels it in.  And after dinner is over, he spoons it out of the pot with the wooden spoon, "Survivor" style, and goes on and on about how much he loves the stuff. It's embarrassing and I don't even want Colin to see his dad like this when he comes home from college. 

I dunno, it's good and all, but Joe is addicted.  Seriously addicted.  And being that he does the cooking around here, our meals all suddenly include jasmine rice.  Sigh.

The worse part? He starts asking family and friends if they have tried it too--like its normal conversation. It's an obsession of the weird kind.  Seriously, Em and  I have images of this man hanging outside of grocery stores begging for jasmine rice.  It's not a pretty thought.

"Hi, I'm Joe, and I'm addicted to jasmine rice..."

It's just weird.

The Best Things Happen While You're Dancing

Okay, who watched it?? Who watched "White Christmas" last night???

MEEEEE!!!



And who sang along? C'mon, admit it. I did--I sang along....loudly. And while I couldn't do the dance numbers, I did snap my fingers a bit. Joe was dancing--but it was sorta lame and it made me laugh. I gave him points for trying.

Who picked the best time of year to have to sit on the couch with her feet up??? MEEEEE!

On Duty

The good news is that I don't have to go in to the office this week.  The bad news--I'm stuck in the house for 5 more days with no driving.  So, here I sit, working at home, catching up on the blog pallies, and finding all sorts of odd projects to do while sitting with my foot up.  It's interesting to say the least, and it's only Monday.

It's funny, but of everyone in the house, Grace is the one who is my best nursemaid.  It's like we have this symbiotic relationship--neither of us can do without the other.  And while I have shown a lot of patience with her and her bladder issues, she has repaid me tenfold in the past days, hardly leaving my side.  She sleeps on my pillow, follows me to the bathroom, and sits on my chest when I shouldn't be getting up.  It's like she just knows that I don't feel well.

When I came home from surgery, it was she who met me on the bed and proceeded to sniff the toe and dressing--checking out what was done.  Hobbes came up later, but he didn't even notice my foot--it was Grace who took full note of the situation and commenced her nursing duties.  I think she knows I'm hurting and she doesn't leave me.

It's a strange relationship we have with animals.  While we don't have the same feelings or emotional capabilities, it's amazing how they just sort of know what we need.  It isn't the pain pills or lunch that I need at the moment--it's just the company--you know, the little furry friend who sits at my side and waits for a little pat on the head and coos a gentle purr to comfort. She's just there.

I'm feeling well, but I'm not pushing it.  Actually, this doesn't hurt much more than the broken foot this summer, but I have to remember there is a pin in that toe and I need to be careful not to bump it.  So, I'm gonna do some work, but I'm also going to take a week to breathe and heal. 

And hang out with my nurse, Grace.

Santa's Helpers: Hardrock, Coco, Joe, and Tylenol 3

While I'm all pumped up on pain meds and chillin' on the couch, I thought I'd post another classic from my youth.  This is part deux of the here-comes-Christmas cartoons that we waited for each year as kids--Suzy Snowflake was number one. Most people remember Hardrock, Coco, and Joe more than Suzy for some reason.

This one is for you, Paul:



Hey, you know, this having all your Christmas stuff done and laying on the couch stuff isn't too bad. It's actually kinda nice to just relax during a time of year that I'm usually running around like a nut. And the toe.....doesn't hurt all that bad.

Happy Weekend, pallies. May you have a few minutes to just relax and enjoy it a bit.

Toe's Big Day

Toe in happier days....

By the time you read this, I'm gonna be home laying on the couch recovering from my major toe-straightening operation.  Yep, I'm scheduled first-up at the Toe Surgical Center at some ridiculous hour--don't even ask. Ugh.

This whole toe thing is weird and I have found that getting my toe fixed is a huge conversation starter with folks.  Not that I go around telling complete strangers about my wonky toe--it's just that it comes up, you know.  Like "Hey, whatcha doing Friday? Wanna go shopping?" and I'm like "Nah, I've got to get my toe straightened that day. Sorry." And then it just goes south from there.

What's really weird is when I explain how my toe is all crooked and I need to get it set straight, everyone (without exception) asks if it hurts.  Really?! Do people get their toes straightened for vanity reasons? Is there plastic surgeons who do breast implants and toe straightening?  I'm never sure how to answer that one--I usually just scrunch up my face and go "Uh....YEAH." 

Then there is the "I think I might have a wonky toe too" conversation.  And yes, I've had this with more people than I can count. Seems like there are a lot of toe issues out there in the world. But it's kinda nice bonding with people over wonky toes.  It's like we are a secret cult or something--The Wonky Toe Club. I wonder if we need a secret handshake or something. Or maybe the surgical shoe on one foot will just be our secret handshake.

So, yeah, today is the day.  I've cleaned the house, done the laundry and the ironing, bought and wrapped all of my Christmas presents and done about all I can to prepare for this.  Now, I'm gonna camp out on the couch with the kitties and catch up on reading and Christmas DVD's.  God help my family on the 3rd run of White Christmas.  At least they will be spared my dancing like Vera Ellen this year. 

Maybe I can just do the arms....

I Love Hobbes Thursday

While we don't have snow or extreme cold yet, Hobbes is still venturing outside each day. Okay, so he's a little slow going out in the early hours of the morning, but he is at least going outside in the afternoon. We like to encourage the orange stripey to get a little exercise so his weight doesn't "blossom" during the winter months, so we let him outside to burn some calories.


The other night, Joe went to take the garbage out and of course, Hobbes went with him. And as Hobbes was running around the yard, he spotted Grace sniffing around the garden too. He can't resist chasing her, so off he went, trying a sneak attack on poor old Grace.

Except it wasn't Grace--it was the opossum.

The opossum took off running and Hobbes ran after him--confused on why "Grace" wasn't hissing and spitting at him. The poor cat was completely confused. The opossum---I think he was confused too. And a little freaked out.

Joe spotted the intruder and quickly grabbed Hobbes--while the opossum high-tailed it outta here. Poor thing--didn't even have time to drop a pooper in the yard on the way out.

Grace--she was in the warm house on the couch watching Hobbes make a fool of himself. 

Crazy, Shirtless Love

It's a miracle--Em and I agree on something.

Or should I say "someone". 

Girlfriends, I may be really slow on the uptake on this one, but if you haven't seen Ryan Gosling in a movie, you really must.  Sigh.  I hear he is currently in a movie with George Clooney. Double Sigh. Where do I buy the tickets?

But while Em and I go on and on with how absolutely adorable he is, we tend to disagree on who should get him--you know, just in case he pops over.  And then I realize that I am ridiculously too old for him and that I would  just be happy to have him date my daughter so I could sneak a peek at that lovely young man. That's kinda sad, isn't it?

And while we were discussing the merits of him without his shirt on, Joe just happened to come in from work and was changing his clothes.  He heard our dreamy tones and comments about six-pack abs, so there he stood, with his hands on his waist, puffing out his chest for us--which wasn't even close to Ryan Gosling's.

"How 'bout this?" he says proudly. (He was sucking it in big time.)

"Yeah/no, Dad" Em says,  "Yours looks more like a twelve-pack".

Yeah. And that's who I get.  Crud.

Killing Two Birds with One Stone

In preparing for the Toe Straightening, I had to see my doctor to give me clearance for surgery.  She seemed a little surprised to see me, I guess I hadn't been there in a few years.  I don't like going because the place I go to LOVES tests and they find every doggone reason to run one or another....or a bunch.  Depends on how much money they need to make that month I think.

Anywho, she's doing the run-down on my meds and asks about the GERD.  Yeah.  It's there....still.  And yes, I take daily meds for it...still.  And she didn't like that.  So, (here it comes) she wants to run a test on me and see if we can either a) switch my meds or b) get me off meds.  Which sounds like a great idea......AFTER my Toe Straightening.  I can only do so much "health" at a time, ya know? But she insists. Yea.

After scheduling the damn test, a week later the GERD flares up.....bad. Like I've got a death grip around my throat-bad. Like I vomit after eating-bad.  Like I have to go to back to Ted the Acupuncturist-bad.  Ugh.

You remember Ted, right?  It was last year, right about this time of year that I went to him and he did not find me funny--at all.  And I would lie there with needles coming out of my forehead, feet, arms, and ears, and I would giggle.  Ted found that very strange--that I would giggle. Ted was not fun. Not at all. I think he did not get me.

So, I go back to I'm-not-fun-at-all-Ted and he acts like he doesn't remember me.  Really??! Like I'm the most fun acupuncture patient EVER and he doesn't remember me?? I think he was lying.

I low-keyed it as he stuck needles in my forehead and ears and such and then he says "Oh yeah! I remember you! You wore nice perfume."  Oh, yeah, Ted. That's me. Ol' nice perfume lady.  Nice try, buddy. You know, damn well, he thought I was nuts--but I didn't say that because he had a fist full of needles that he intended on sticking in me.  I'm thinking it's not good to irk the acupuncturist, so I just said "thank you" and left it at that.

Ted gets to talking about GERD and the "hot spots" and he gets to my toe--you know, the crooked one?  And he's all excited, like he found the whole secret of my problem.  Seems the second toe is the hot spot for your stomach.

Really???!

Wow.  By the shape of that toe, I think everyone should be able to see how bad the tummy is these days.  Wouldn't that be ironic if the Toe Straightening fixed the GERD too? I'm keeping my fingers crossed.

And then Ted stuck two pins in either second toe (and lots of other places as well) and left me to ponder in the dark. With relaxing music on. For a long, long time.  A long, relaxing time.

I like that Ted--especially if he was right about that toe/stomach thing.  Toe Straightening, here I come!

She's baaackkkk.....

Look who's back...... Suzy Snowflake!

For the new pallies, I post this classic video each December.  I grew up on this stuff and it brings back warm memories of me in my pjs eating farina at the kitchen table.  Sigh.  Seems like yesterday.

Growing up in Chicago, they played this on the morning cartoon show " Ray Rayner" and at the lunch time "Bozo Show".  When you saw this as a kid, it was your signal that Santa was on his way.  It's no wonder I love this so.



Have you noticed the holiday pace picking up? I have. Stores are crazy crowded, traffic is maddening, and money seems to be flying out the window. People are freaking out about to-do lists and holiday family obligations, and nerves are starting to frazzle....just a wee bit.

Gosh, as much as I love Christmas, I certainly hate what it does to us.  But Suzy helps a bit.  She reminds me to just enjoy the sparkle of winter and the fun of the season without dreading all the have-tos.

That is, until I have to shovel her "snow white gown" off the driveway to get to work...

Goodbye, Windy

There is no easy way to tell you this.....

Windy is gone.  She disappeared after a freak winter storm hit her home.  And now, we are Windy-less.

Waaahhhhhh!

I know, I know. It's sad, but her memory will live forever. And every time we see a plastic bag stuck in a tree, we'll remember our friend, Windy.

Don't know what the heck, I'm talking about? Go over and visit Kathy at The Junk Drawer. She has been writing about a wee plastic bag (Windy) that has been stuck in the tree outside her office for three years (that's 73 in bag years).

Kathy has provided us all chuckles with Windy updates, Windy birthday parties, and Windy photos. She was even famous for a bit, getting air time with her stories of Windy--although some people did not find her humorous. I do and I think those people are just jealous of Windy and are evil haters.  Windy was nothing but fun--how can you hate on that? Sheesh.

So, today, in honor of Windy, I dedicate this post at the Duck and Wheel to her memory.  May we all remember what she stood for--tenacity in good weather and in bad.  Hanging out with the wind in her hair and her face towards the sun.  She gave us all something fun to read about for the past few years and for that, we thank her. Good-bye, bag pally....

We love you, Windy.

Somebody needs a hug

The best part of the holiday season is all those movies--you know, the ones that we see year after year. The ones we know every single scene, word, and song like the back of our hands. Yeah. And I can't wait to see them for the cabillionth time.

And as dumb as the story line may be, "Elf" has got some great scenes that make me laugh....out loud....a LOT. It's been on a LOT lately and I always seem to catch it right about here:



I think Buddy found Happy Raccoon Village!

Thursday Thanks

I've had a fun couple of weeks getting all sorts of great surprises from the pallies. And while I'm all giddy with excitement when the packages come, I'm not really good at taking photos and sharing with everyone what I received.  Today, I'm gonna actually take the time to show you the goods.....and thank everyone properly--just like my mother taught me to.

Grace made a bunch of CD's for her pallies a couple of weeks ago and sent them out as a surprise.  It's chock full of fun "Grrrl Power" songs and it's a real toe-tapper when you are stuck in traffic each day.  Thanks, Grace! I think of you when I'm singing along and all the cars around me are staring at me like I'm nuts.  I thank you for making my commute a little more bearable.

I still can't convince Joe that the title of the CD is really not a typo. Sigh.

Right before I got my CD from Grace, I was the winner of a notecard giveaway over at my pally Sara's blog: Red Pine Mountain.  I love Sara and her tales of her wacky birds, dogs, ponies, and Mountain Man adventures.  She has fun living with her menagerie like I do with mine--I think we are very similar in that fashion--'cept I'm in the city and she's in the country and can have more animals than me. 

Anywho, she introduced me to a lovely artist, Joan Harlowe, who paints some lovely watercolors. The note cards I won were miniature watercolors of hers and they are BEAUTIFUL!! I think I'm going to frame a couple of these to enjoy.  You can see Joan's work at Red Horse Studio.  Thank you, Sara, for making my eyeballs happy when I see these lovely cards.

My last treasure, is from Susan over at Hot Rocks Glass Jewels.  Susan makes some really lovely jewelry and she won me over with this one--I just HAD to have it.  My lighting and photo doesn't do it justice--but, oh, what a treat that was to get in the mail!  A little "Merry Christmas to ME", I like to call it.  It's got a snappy real live key on it, some crystal, some sparkly, and a bit of bling.  And it makes me very happy when I wear it.

Thank you, Susan, for putting it aside for me and not selling it to some other chicky at the art show!  And thanks for the bonus earrings you snuck in there!!   And no, I am NOT sharing either with Em.

Thank you to all the blog pallies who thought of me in the last couple of weeks. Wow--and I wasn't even sick or nuthin'.