Never Forget

It doesn’t matter where you stand on the war issue.  It doesn’t matter whether you’re for or against it.  It doesn’t matter what your political affilliation is.  It doesn’t matter what your religion is or if you have none.  What does matter is that there are too many people suffering because of it.  You may know someone personally who is hurting, maybe grieving, because of it.  You may be further removed, only seeing and hearing what the news media drops into the appropriate time slots between commercials.  It doesn’t matter.  All that matters is that we don’t forget.

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20080720/ap_on_re_us/military_the_enemy_within;_ylt=Ag3.9bwirsfzFB_i.vA0sKRH2ocA

Mmmm…Mmmm…Good!

The other day, the mister brought home a zip-lock bag of fresh shelled black-eyed peas, complements of the wife of one of his friends.  These are the same people who occasionally share summer squash, tomatoes and okra from the overabundance of their garden with us, and I’m always appreciative of their generosity.  Because, after all, who doesn’t love veggies straight from the garden? 

The next afternoon, I grabbed the bag of peas, dumped them in a strainer, and gave them a good rinse before starting them on a long, slow simmer.  I baked a skillet of crusty, sweet cornbread and grilled a couple of thick slices of ham.  Talk about a feast!  I was even impressed with the flavor of the black-eyes.  I had gotten the seasoning just right and they were gooood!  So good that we had them again the next day, and even the day after when lunch time rolled around. 

By then we were down to the nubbins on the peas, and I debated throwing the last little bit out, but darn it, they were good and only getting better with each reheat.  So I decided to save the last little dab.  If nothing else, I could freeze them and add them to a pot of home-made soup when the weather started to cool off. 

That’s when the unthinkable happened.  I dumped them into a freezer container, and there, floating in the middle of all that soupy pea goodness, was a little fat white worm. 

“Do you see what I see?” I screeched at the mister who happened to be standing next to me. 

He leaned over and looked.  “Oh, it’s a weevil.”  Then he gave me a reassuring smile.  “Don’t worry.  They’ll digest.” 

I spluttered but nothing else would come out.  They’ll digest?  I shouldn’t worry because even if I ate a little fat white worm, it would digest?  Seriously?  Do I look like I’m worried about the digestibility of little fat white worms???  I stared down at the bloated carcass.  Maybe he was the only one, I tried to reason.  Maybe I hadn’t eaten any of his unfortunate relatives.  Maybe. 

I found little comfort in that theory.  After all, even if he was the lone ranger, so to speak, he was still floating in the juice, contaminating it by his very presence.  I couldn’t ignore the fact that I had consumed worm-tainted pea juice. 

“You want me to take it out for you?” the mister asked.  He can be so thoughtful.  I mean, that would fix the whole problem, now wouldn’t it? 

I declined his offer, fished the dead body out all by myself, and slapped a lid on the container.  Maybe I will serve them again.  To the mister. 

Me?  I’ll settle for a warm piece of buttered cornbread, and please, PLEASE, don’t tell me what gets ground up with the cornmeal. 

Purrfect

Matches My Mood

SeXXXy

Ever Have One of Those Days?

Ever have one of those days when nothing seems to go right? 

 

 

And no one seems to care?

 

 

On days like that, feel free to release a little of your inner frustration.

 

 

 

You know you’ll feel better for it.

 

 

Have a happy, happy, wondersome day!

I’m Baacckk!!!

Not that I was really ever gone.  But my brain is back.  Maybe.  I tend to get a little overly focused when I have something unpleasant, or new, or different pending in my life.  I know that sounds pathetic, but that’s just the way I operate.  I like to obsess over what’s coming.  What will happen?  How will it work?  What am I supposed to do?  How am I supposed to act?  Could someone shot me, please?  I know I drive everyone batty with my obsessing.

But the good news here is that it’s over.  I got through my medical procedure yesterday in one piece.  Except for that small piece I left behind when the surgeon did a little excision.  And no, I won’t go into details.  You’re welcome.

Things actually went quite well, considering everything.  I arrived at the business office promptly at 9:30 to give them money and sign all those papers.  (I just hope I didn’t sign my firstborn away.  She would be really ticked.)  My procedure was scheduled for 10:30, but they called the office and asked if I had arrived yet.  Seems they were running thirty minutes ahead of schedule.  Lucky me.  I didn’t have to wait. 

My nurse was a woman that I had watched grow up when we both lived in the same small community, so that was kind of nice.  My other nurse, the one with me for the procedure, was a very nice man.  He was competent, kind, and really explained everything that was going to happen before, during and after.  The sad part is that I can’t remember his name.  It was something short and sweet like Joe or John.  Maybe it was the drugs, but I honestly can’t remember, and I really wanted to for some reason.

I’m just glad it’s over with, and except for a follow up appointment next week, I think I’m good to go for another year.  Sounds like a plan to me. 

When Fantasy and Reality Collide

End In Sight

I haven’t done as well with my blogging this week, but I’ve had my mind on other things.  A couple of blogs back, I talked about going in for my yearly check up, which I did, and I’ve already gotten one report back.  It seems my boobs are good to go for another year.  Yay!  I’m still waiting to hear about other parts of the plumbing, but expect good reports there as well. 

I make no secret of the fact that I don’t like to go to the doctor, and I thought if I got the mam and pap all done on the same day, I could dust my feet off and not look back for at least a year.  I was wrong.

Since I’m in my declining years, my doctor decided I should give the colonoscopy experience a try.  Oh, joy, says I.  Can I really?  Do you promise?  Oh, and while you’re at it, the nice doctor says, let’s do another bone density scan just to make sure your load bearing components are still up to the zoning regulations. 

Okey dokey then.  I decided to be a good sport and go for the whole enchilada.  What’s a little more naked humiliation at the hands of total strangers?  Not to mention that I have to pay for the privilege…  I know.  Not a good attitude.  And I also know that this too is a good thing, considering my age and family medical history.  Yada yada yada…

So I take another half day off work to go and have the meet-and-greet about the colon thing, and to get my bones tested.  Not too bad.  I was only partially naked and mildly poked at, so I’m thinking it’s not as gruesome as I had anticipated. 

Then the nurse finds me and hands me another card.  Oh.  They want to do another  test?  On another day?  Well, sure.  Why not?  It’s not like I don’t have a time clock to punch, and as for the mileage, gee, let’s not worry about the gallons of gas I’m going to be going through. 

So now, I get to make an additional trip so they can do an ultrasound.  They think my gallbladder may be a bit hinky.  I think they should let sleeping gallbladders lie.  Besides, it will take longer to drive to the clinic than it will to do the test, and I’ll lose two more hours of work.

Then there’s that day when I won’t be allowed to eat anything.  ALL DAY.  That’s just criminal, and that’s not counting those funny little pills I’ll be taking that will do weird things to my system and make me hibernate in the bathroom.  And all that’s just the warm up for the main event the next morning.

All I can say is, I’m glad they’re going to give me those “I don’t care” pills.  I have a feeling I’m going to need them. 

Drinkin’ Doubles