Monday, June 29, 2009

This is Austin

I started to do some stuff today. Some stuff at the back of my mind and then maybe a box of associated stuff to disperse. Fog. File. At the back of my mind. That fog of childhood memories that bring to the front some of the sweetest but so far away IN THE NOW. Like an aroma can blast you back sometimes a rememory, time remembered.

When you are reminded of a sweet place of young. When you can feel that time of used to be.

We played, first introduced, in a box like this. I let this be my moment to remember too, papers inside.
He did actually still me.

Sunday, June 28, 2009

This is Ginger

We found Hidden Lily last summer and planted her in a medium pot on the patio. She grew like a weed. A lovely weed. We decided to move her to a bigger pot in the yard so I cut her into four sections and replanted the pieces close to the rim of that bigger pot. It smelled so delicious because this is in the Ginger family. I should call her Lily but I don't.

Friday, June 26, 2009

What is the first thing? That first thing we know, is what? Actually this is a test.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The best layed plans

I've had this egg routine I dance with. I cannot remember when it all started to run like a waltz. A dozen of eggs can hang in there for quite a while. Long ago we never knew that because we ate them all the time, sometimes from the back yard, difficult to remember running out of eggs. Then the sky started to fall and once, I threw eggs away. I met a bad egg, but I think he was bad when he got here. I don't think he went bad in my fridge. His buddies were still right but they were hanging with the bad egg. I ate them anyway. You can dip an egg in warm soft gooey wax and go sailing for 10 months (egg in air/not fridge) Is that so cool to know? One dozen eggs, down to 6 or 8 or 7, and then I go buy another dozen. I take the deserted dozen and boil them. Sometimes I 'H' them and put their crate underneath the new guys. Sometimes I 'H' their crate.....they still go on the bottom.

Well somewhere along the line. I become omnivorant and decide, I know. I have six or five 'H' eggs in the fridge and I have four or seven regular good ol guys, in the fridge.

Two nights ago I had a bacon/egg/cheese sandwich, so yummy, for lunch. AT 2 AM. Remember the owls? Well I know where all the eggs are. I'm clairvoyant, member?

I want egg salad for this evenings dinner 10 pm. (adjusting to the not owl) I became the oh so pompous PPLLEEAASSEE!! egg princess. Tis no longer necessary to tattoo the fowl. I take out the preferred egg crate and smack an 'H' egg on the counter and have immediately homicided a perfectly good, good ol boy egg.

4 eggs in the lemon cake. I know I KNOW it's so so bad, but it is so good. He was a good egg. I will call 911 and turn myself in right after the cake comes out of the oven. I wanted egg-salad.

Wednesday, June 24, 2009

I've just wondered. What is this like??? Today is my First Born Daughter's birthday. Love to her. Forever.

Sunset at the North Pole.

This picture was taken the week Of May 11, 2009 at the North Pole. Something I will never see in person but since it's not on my 'list' all is fine by me. Awesome raw beauty and something nether world about it, I think, as it should be.
sometimes there is a time to do this mood. No words to pass, just steady breathing. Then that pin to aware of the breathing. It's rather very cool to listen to someone breathing. Not consistent when they're not thinking about but it is their thinking that affects the rhythm. Thinking and breathing. Thank God not one needs the other.

Tuesday, June 23, 2009

Grin and bear it. This too shall pass. I am all with the ability to be able to change your own mind, I believe in the power of positive thinking. Mental acuity is a learned ability. Like eloquence of speech or that leather bound mesmerizer there are no coincidences. One dweller to an others flit. This is what you should have done, this is when you should have done it and this is how you should have..... Perfect, of course.

I've never been sick. Is it sick? I've not been infected with debilitation. To impair the strength of, weak, weaken. I looked up debilitate and was ok there and then I looked up weak. So I acknowledge this and will move on. I'm the flit. I have things to do. Things I don't want to do. Mostly because I'm not sure how to start, I don't want to and I'm afraid to.....because I don't know how. I might think it would be easier on me if I had brothers or sisters but I don't because I'm not supposed to. Fate? Yes, The Fates decided. I don't toss it on the Gods and get away with exonerating myself. Fate to me is a path, choices made along the way, directions taken, provide a concept of your decisions to the life you are living. So, if on your path of life you turn left and walk into a tree. This is not a mistake . The choices we make are not mistakes. How can they be? This has helped, belching it out. Usually does, huh? Give me a minute to think and I formulate my answers. Let me have a moment to ponder and the answers will present themselves. Now that it's mentioned, Thanks, I'll take a moment.

Monday, June 22, 2009

I grew up in San Diego, California. I am a Princess. Whomever that offends.....get over it and any one jealous....someone has to be, it was me. Ask my Dad. There are no ants/alligators/ants/mosquitoes/ants/sand fleas/ants...did I say ants?.... in San Diego. no ants that bite people.

I'm in Florida and you cannot lay on the grass and watch clouds. You cannot lay on the grass and count stars. You walk on the grass but do not stop, just keep moving. I want to have
ant bait
people over next weekend to play Ladder Golf and celebrate.

Mr. Frank got a new patio set for Dad's day and the board walk at the back of the property is almost done. It would be our first party here. The Lizards and Snakes under the board walk. Ok wait. LMAO, really, sorry. OK, so and the Squirrels all over wherever they want...pretty much sets us for some fun. I want to play Ladder Golf in the grass. So I fed them today. The ants. I've done so before when the have totally INVADED some spot not meant for them or I needed for them to be gone. Always thought they were gone. Fine. Dead. Oh please, they just move. I never noticed. Deny deny deny, court posturing. I actually have been fine with this. They are not allowed in my kitchen, have never pushed the issue. Well, I copped an attitude today and decided I could kill them. It's illegal to own an anteater in Florida or transport them or something. So I fed them. I have seen before the terror, Chicken Little. They settle, then take new offerings into the hole. Today. Today, they picked up the debris and ran away from the entrance to the city. Each one of them to pick up poison left. I don't smush spiders. What was I thinking? Did you know there are mosquitoes on St Thomas but not on St. John? There are no fleas in Connecticut.
I remember a very very long time ago, red ants. In Texas they were red ants. I'm in Florida now and they are called fire ants. They were probably red ants then too, a very very long time ago. A child in Texas was brutally attacked because how can you ever be politely attacked, ever? News media have all the adjectives. I believe it was my first childhood trauma with another living other than human form. Ants. Just that same story of how it happens the very first time in your life. Me, standing there, minding my own business. Oh and for heavens sake and mine too, having a fine wonderful time. It wasn't like I was standing there getting a dress down. Why was I so still? THEY, much organized. Nothing like the Florida model. When a Florida ant crawls up on me it bites the wholly living fricken/frackin poop outta me. ONE bite.
TEXAS. Maybe I really wasn't standing there that long. I did like waaaahh? It was not "A" bite. Commando attack, all in position. All 4,000 of them in position up my pants before the attack was launched;. My Dad never hesitated. I think he saw my eyes before I could take enough air in......I saw his eyes too as he was bolting at me. Locked...he knew. All at one time I was hurt. I started to slap at my pants just as he reached me. He was screaming for my Mom. His scream scared me more.........I didn't know yet. My Dad stripped me. I just thought I could swat at whatever was buggin me. My Dad didn't even say one word to me.....he yanked my pants off. I was MORTIFIED. It was the front yard. I still had no idea what was going on. My Dad had gone insane, I was very afraid..........OF HIM! I really wanted my Mom. The look in hers eyes that met mine as she came upon both of us...still too close to the mound, let me be a bit more frightened. My Mom scared me. My Dad strips. She yanks both of us to the cement and turns the hose on us. How many? How many? My Mom asks over and over. I still don't have a clue. I'm wet, feel fine, in my Dad's arms being carried to the house............when it starts to burn.

I saw mugs at the Manor and although I may NEVER be invited over again....I had a riot of a time. As all great almost went to jail stories go, the longer ago, the more very fine sweet details come front to face through the haze. Any which way. I didn't break anything but sometimes the only sense I have is the humor one. Willow is such beauty and all she gives us is too. I would be the red-headed step-cousin. I can say's red, and I'm cultivated weird. Been working on that for a bit, getting better and better. So I have a mug-shot too. Oh wait no, I have mugs that I shot, yes yes, that's it. AND I HAVE an accomplished friend. Implicated. And I have permission, well I'm trying to behave every once in a while......very while. Besides, I feel almost close to all grown up when I have permission and not in jail. omg, too much fun.

Thanks (many) to 'on the m104' for sharing this picture with me.
Willow (pleaseplease) will forgive me, she is sweet grace. On a completely unrelated note of interest please please go visit Daryl. who by all means is not implicated here. Maybe some place else but not here.

Sunday, June 21, 2009


Mine is gone and I miss him. As Father's and daughter's go, mine is a story of all the best in the land. A tale as true to wonder and fairies as can be told. I miss him so much. What is a princess to do without her Knight in the shiniest armor? Perched upon his shoulders with the best view of the parade or him leaving the house hours ahead to stake a claim curbside. He taught me so much, I taught him some too. I miss my Daddy.

Happy Daddies Day to all of yours and I'm hugging all of them.

Saturday, June 20, 2009

Friday, June 19, 2009

Please, Please, please help me out here.. If we can blog poop you can look at my boobs.

This is a cake. Wish mine were in such great frosted shape. A cancer benefit that rallied for "Save the Ta-Ta's". The cupcakes were absolutely T H E most delicious. Anyway....just a note to pass. We are a family. Mr. Frank auctioned out $70.00 to this cancer benefit, very nice.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

How do these things happen? How does a perfectly well operating anything decide to unravel itself? I have this little black box thing that operates my Internet system. On the front of it runs a bunch of tiny green lights. It's all working perfectly fine and then it isn't. How? I call my service to bemoan my fate and belittle their stinking piece o doodee company full of grade school graduates. A wonderful kind polite 12 year old gets on the phone with me and asks if anything is unplugged. 10 minutes later, he asks me to please look for him. I huff and harrrumph, get up off my behind, climb onto my furniture, hang upside down over the back of my desk (purposefully left catty-wampus for just such medical emergencies) and yep, there it is. Unplugged. I in my infinite olympic back-stroke say something cute and silly and so so and well, so. HE is even nicer and says, it's quite all right Miss..........(miss, he calls me miss) these things can happen sometimes and yes I understand it's quite frustrating. It probably happened right after you dusted.

I am a direct descendant of Erma Bombeck and he called me Miss. I adore my Internet service.

How do these things happen??

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Ramond's Poem

The gift of life is life itself Pain, anger, hate;
Love, devotion, honesty
And God gave us a choice to choose We should not take it for granted Angels in the sky can't feel a thing Therefore it's special
So we should recognize we're in God's image What use is there to have wings
If you can't feel the breeze on your face As you fly in the sky
You showed me love
Like only the God above has shown me So for that, in my life
I shall anoint you as holy.

Monday, June 15, 2009

Since 1964

My very first experience with this was thanks to my friend who is now in Atlanta. She sent this to me when she still lived in San Diego. This along with some cute little cookie thing, product of Mexico. The cookie box emptied but there was still this yummy spread. Always the case. Graham crackers are a perfect foil. She would also send me wonderful treasures that were purloined. They must have been. I'm sure. Federal trade commission faux pas. Transportation of goods across state lines, in an airplane....worse. Non-Compete cross pollination. Yea, babbling, I have no idea what I'm talking about. Except, it's about food so can't be all bad. Where I live. There is no Trader Joe's where I live. Do you know Trader Joe? My girlfriend would send me care packages. Contraband. When my parents lived overseas, after visits stateside, my Mom would smuggle tortillas in her suitcase. Trader Joe's is in Georgia now, where's mine? Nutella is not to be refrigerated or microwaved. I am in complete awe/denial about stuff we eat, gooey stuff, that needs no refrigeration. I don't understand.

This is my second jar of Nutella. In my whole life. My very first time was in 2005. This is the very stuff that sends us to therapy. It's so good, we must deny ourselves. This is so good we must resist. No No Nutella. I will want a piece (or three) of pizza. No No Nutella. I will want to

179,000.00 tons a year. French Nutella has less sugar content than Italian Nutella. It does not go in the refrigerator. I'm baffled, and do you know what this would be perfect on. Perfect?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

I saw some red slippers today. Reya has snatched them from the museum so I'm thinking our yard project had best be pushed to the front burner so there is some road to follow. I've relied on those shoes myself a few times. Since I couldn't get the earth to swallow me up on command I would have to break out the shoes. What in heavens name would happen if Mr. Frank found his wonderful deck path painted fire hydrant yellow?? This is where the grass doesn't grow so he is building a lizard playground and a snake path. (we will never see them)......good snake. Every job needs a project manager and we have one of the very best on the block. She comes very highly recommended and whenever she wants. This is Sophie. I can't pet her. She pets me. If I totally ignore her she will put her nose in my hand and then when I reach out to touch... she bolts. Then she trots back over and I raise my hands up and roar at her. She is off like a cannon ball. She loves to run. She and Mr. Frank are getting all the fine details, detailed.

She is a good neighbor and her people are too.

You can see that this project is extremely complex and needs a good eye or four, as the path goes from there to here.

With, of course the highest grade construction materials and the newest innovations of the industry. The wheel. The very fast spinning metal wheel.

Friday, June 12, 2009

Where did I land?

The Bottom of the World or the Back Side of the Moon?

Thursday, June 11, 2009

It's Friday. YAY! Yes it is. IS TOO! Well for the world of Asphalt paving and night crews this begins their weekend. Fresh start on Sunday night. Rules and regulations. DOT demands, yes they are pretty persnickety, safety considerations at all times. Friday and Saturday nights are not for schmearing the roadways by all accounts. They're for rabble rousing and drifting. Asphalt and beer and Parnelli Jones don't combine well. Get my drift? We know what drifting is, right? ( oh come on, some of you are old like me) Do we know what DOT is? Ah HA!, some of you are not old like me and have no clue. You could find all the clues you could ever want in a lifetime at a marina.

OK, YAY! Friday! I'm out for a good time cause "I get around". I've wanted to live in two wild environments. More wild than you and I could make up. The bottom of the ocean, well feasible bottom. In one of those habitats. What was that movie? So awesome. No fishes to worry with, they had visitors. The one of those habitats. I was so hoping my lifetime would offer me an apartment on the moon, a room with a view. So my room in deepest darkest Africa....nnnnnn waters and I might have visitors. Where are they from? The dark side of the moon?

The dark side of the moon. Who visits me?

It's sleep depravation.

I see two of them them.

Cave dwelling, oceans the moon.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Look Familiar?

At this night time job thing and I'm sitting here in the dark, in my mind. Now I have the giggles because I'm not in my right mind. Wandering around in my left mind thinking about the deep sea. The deep dark black sea. Full of real scary sea creatures, not the ones of my imagination in the light. Eternal night workers. I've done some investigating in the past but usually about the time I find the 3rd or 4th horrible killer 'thing' ....I don't want to have any more information. On a thank goodness note.....they are way way down there. So I'm poking around and I find this creature of the deep. He is familiar, I know this guy. He's a movie star.

This monster might possibly be persuaded to just wander on by. 6 inches of him. We could handle that, right? Not to worry, we can't be bothered. Truly. He hangs out at about 5000 feet below the surface of the water. ....and THAT'S a fine thing. I'm so tempted to tell you about 'double ugly' that's cruising around at 8000 feet. Actually he's not ugly just pretty darned scary. Post note to my WOD diving post. Grouper aren't ugly either, just misunderstood.

Last night I was cave dwelling, tonight I'm on the bottom of the ocean.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009


I'm tired. I'm working nights and I suck at it. I'm going to whine. Mr. Frank has a government job for a couple of weeks so they have to work when there is the least impact on 'the peoples'. So now that you are all tucked in he does some mad-scientist beaker deal and big noisy water spitting saw thing and really hot oven stuff. He's the one mixing and checking the goo that gets smeared all over the roads for us to drive/ride on. I voulnteered to come to his office and spruce up his filing because....well...he's a mad-scientist. I put a piece of black felt hanging from a pole on the window, behind the blinds, so the sun can't find him. Cave man.

I volunteered. I was warned a long time ago (in my youth) not to put it on paper and not to voulnteer. I am, spilling my guts to you guys and working in the dark.

Monday, June 8, 2009


World Oceans Day
June 8, 2009
My first and second and third SCUBA dive (same day)
Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus

Pool trained-passed. Classroom trained-passed. Off we go. Southern California diving requires a wet suit, year round. A FULL WET SUIT. Mine was quarter-inch custom fit… a glove. Fricken/fracken cold water. With the life being squeezed out of me and weighing 437 pounds, over the side I went, 60 feet down, head for the cave . Yes, true, brand new diver. Yep cave diving. NOT. It had a Hollywood Bowl entry fit for baby divers. So we (my accomplished dive partner) swooped into the darker water. Everything that could go equipment wrong with a dive did. Hilarious fun story (on deck) but I want to tell you about my water.
My first dive. 60 feet. You cannot ‘see’ the color you are in. From the surface to below as the light fades I had clear to, foggy grey/murky green/blue/bluer/bluer/black. From the bottom I had a clear muted grayish mush, then looking up was sheer transparent blues of all colors with sunlight streams shimmering and dancing. I spent time unknown on my knees looking up…until my partner poked me.
My second dive. 45 feet. Partnered with my Dive Master (another hysterical story) I encountered some unwanted company. I was not in my world. I was allowed to explore a bit on my own as long as we kept line of sight. Eyes on. I was thrilled. At this depth we had more company. More stuff growing, more stuff wiggling and wafting around. I was enchanted. I was in another world and I was in love with this freedom. Then I saw my sea monster. I wasn’t carrying a game bag, so nothing to fight over. He really is a blind bat kinda hunter so he virtually must have something to bite right in front of his face. I am safe. He is hiding in his dragon cave (a hole just big enough for him to back his wiggly Morea eel bod into) and he is ready to pounce upon the closest passer by. I am safe. I was 7 feet away from him. He pokes his head out a bit (6 inches) so I tuck my arms to my side. He pokes out a bit more (6 inches..more) so I fold my arms across my chest and clench my fists (no yummy fingers) What do I look like? A whale. What does he do? HE COMES OUT. Did you hear me? HE COMES OUT ALL THE WAY! They are not supposed to do that. Not on your first dive, I read that book. I start slow and easy moving with my water and staying beside the reef. I figure he will return to his lair. NOT. Can you hear me hyper-ventilating my tank dry? He swam right over to me, stayed right beside me, kept pace for about 15 feet. I swam just like I told you I had my arms. An unlikely escort, not at all in character and disturbing. My sea monster. Oh yeah just to let you know….he was longer than me. I wish I could tell you his story.
My third dive. 7 feet tops. (oops, bottoms?) I was in a storm. An incredibly powerful heart pounding heaviest air sucking (fresh tank) the perfect storm. OK, ok but I’m a bit on my high-wire, still. Closer to the shore line we were subjected to surge. It was wonderful fun, just had to watch your depth to rock ratio surge force. If you wanted to stay still you had to grab a rock, much easier to go with the flow. But I saw something. There… Wait. See there, did you see it? I maneuvered closer. The sea grass was about 3-4 feet tall and in the surge it acted like the image of waves crashing on the sand. That big curl. Big huge curl to the left….flowy, flowy, big huge curl to the right. Very cool. But I saw something. Well I just had to go check it out. Hard fought to get closer. Swim swim, swoosh left. Swim swim, swoosh right. See it? What the ??? is that? Ok wait, sea grass will part. I am 4 ½ feet from the ugliest toadliest monster I have ever imagined and I would have to imagine that ugly AND it was the size of a St. Bernard AND it was dead. I thought I was the first person to discover how a dead fish in the sea was found??. Wait a minute. How can a dead….that thing, not move? Stock still in between two rocks with sea grass swishing back and forth over the top of it? Not Moving. Oh jeez, just had to get a little closer. I’m holding my breath….Cardinal scuba sin. It WAKES UP. Did you know the verb, “dart” was invented by a fish? Are you familiar with mach speed? I got within arm’s reach of it…WE know now, because I was not breathing, WRONG… do not do!! Thank God they can move backwards because he would have had to bowl me over otherwise. Do you know how ugly grouper are? Please go look. This was the end of that tank of air. I was over my day. I would also love to be able to tell you his story. I have lots of dive tales in lots of waters. This was my first time in. The oceans bring me to heart pounding life.

Post Note. Divers always pick up trash.

and to further note, thank you Crazy Girl for this invitation. Oceanic Blog-A-Thon!

Sunday, June 7, 2009


Oh, shit...the flash, Can you see it?
No flash....see?

Open the door. Still there. In my own back yard, the entire thing, end to end, both pots. HOLY every color.

Fading away, still can't believe what I saw. See this?

This is not my idea of fun water to play in. Although today there is equipment available to ensure a comfortable environment for the human to be able to explore either in it or on it. If it can't be done in zorries it's way to burry for me.

This is my ideal water consideration.

Saturday, June 6, 2009

Doing some part too.

World Oceans Day
I want to help with this too. Lover of Life @LIFE IN THE SECOND HALF has been posting information on this upcoming project so for my part I'd like tp pass this on to anyone that has not known. ya go.

This is your assignment. Homework due Monday 6/8/09. Turn it in, EASY "A", everybody gets one.

Thursday, June 4, 2009



Put the award logo on your blog.
Nominate at least ten blogs that show great attitude and/or gratitude.
Be sure to list and link your nominees within your post
Let them know they have received this prestigious award by leaving a comment on their blog.

The MOST outrageous Meeko Fabulous , has awarded me the above and I thank him. I don't do very well with these but I don't want to get into any trouble either. (especially with Meeko, I absolutely do not want to be a post subject of his....*v*`) Then again, I don't play well with others or by the rules a lot. This is so much like homework for me and so.. test well.

AND I've concluded it is mean of me not to participate with blogger, so I guess I'll just have to do the work***sorta***.

It says put the award on your blog. I don't know how, so it goes in this post.
It says nominate but that is asinine because it intimates a vote ensues. I will pick.
List and link...YEAH, that I can do.
notify...Yeah, that I can do. but I don't like it because who am I to be picking? Everyone should have one. OMGAWD, you know what I can do? Screw this up so horrible then Meeko will have to take care of it. He's so much better at this, really really good. Dear Meeko, please find enclosed 12 copies to be distributed yesterday......he's so good. ok, anyway. Crapola.

on the m104
Lola's Curmudgeonly Musings on Life, Love & Other Trifles
monkeys on the roof
The Gold Puppy
nik's backyard
stuff from ellen's head
Life at Willow Manor
The Ramblings of a Disgruntled Secretary
Mountain Mamma
Expat From Hell
Sleepless in Gainesville


This was awarded to me by a wonderful girl nik's backyard waaaay up there in a cold place. Very fun blog. It is my pleasure to pass it on as you in turn are to pass it also to those you believe have a Golden Heart.

on the m104
Lola's Curmudgeonly Musings on Life, Love & Other Trifles
monkeys on the roof
The Gold Puppy
nik's backyard
stuff from ellen's head
Life at Willow Manor
The Ramblings of a Disgruntled Secretary
Mountain Mamma
Expat From Hell
Sleepless in Gainesville

I love this forum and all her peeps and I will admit ONCE having a boo-boo face awaiting an award. Kisses and hugs for them, thanks. In the interest of popular science I'm off to detention for throwing chalk loaded erasers towards the board at Tommy which disqualifies me from any future participation in after school activities. You could sneak me a note of honorable mention if you wish to. You know, something to let me know you still love me even though I'm incarcerated. Get Tommy to do it, he's always in trouble.


Wednesday, June 3, 2009

It's your move.

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

Pilfer Proof Paper

What does that mean? Paper meaning, (not tape..although it stuck to the box?) it had that paper texture... oh yeah and it WAS brown. This sealed a box recently delivered to me by Fed-ex. Pilfer? OK, we really do have to give this a moment. Everybody on this planet is going to hell! You sin, you're going. OH, wait, you're forgiven....ok go ahead everybody goes to heaven. Pilfer is stealing..? ==...!! small? Only not. You use one pen a month on the job. You take home OH MY GAWD I COULD GO ON & on & more and you do that for 25 years. You grab those napkins out of the dispenser, you need three but you take 12. An extra sweet n low for your purse. Pilfer is just a penny but you do it a 900,000 billion times. I received this package. I was happy, knew just what it was. Pilfer Proof Paper? Sony Corporation. What do you think here? Let's take a run at it.

Part ordered. Part pulled (goes in employee pocket) no, goes to shipping (goes in employee pocket) no, goes to packaging (goes in employee pocket) no goes to dispatch WAIT A MINUTE.

After it is sealed by packaging??? It IS NOT, they are pilfering. Those pilferers. WHO KNOWS??? So it is packaged and sealed, pilfer proof. Packaged and sealed and handed over to dispatch for Fed-ex. Who makes packaging tape that says pilfer proof?? Once boxed and sealed there is no pilfer. That's breaking and entering and theft.. so, but, ...has Fed-ex been delivering empty boxes? Has Fed-ex been stealing from Sony and they think, oh those pilfering employees? Really I want to know. What is the point of printing 'Pilfer Proof Paper' on that packaging tape???

Monday, June 1, 2009

Here kitty kitty!

Oh I've done a bad thing, a torturous thing, an evil thing. By all accounts, it is a brave new world to believe they could be friends. I think so. Stranger than fiction and very entertaining. I am a very loving pet owner and this cat, in particular, holds my heart for huge reasons, but like children, some torture is appropriate. I told my 9 year old daughter that diatomaceous earth was ground up elephant bones. Riot of a tale there but not par to Cotton Candy. He was a charming visitor....for a little while. Enlarge the pics for full effect, except the one of the squirrel up close. The window needs washing.