The August Baked Blahs

Well my official annual summer torpor (or ennui) has officially started. If you have been reading me for a long time, you know this happens every year. It's rough watching the nightly news and see the weather man excitedly predicting that the temperature will come down to 100° maybe this weekend. Yes you read that right: come down to 100°. And maybe.
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Yippee. Nearly all of my flowers now look like crumbly bits of a brown paper bag. And I watered them every single day. But as we like to say around here, "Well it's just too hot."
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Every day I wake up and think of all the things I want to do and then I just don't quite get to them. Oh, I'm doing all the neccessary things: cook dinner every night, clean the kitchen, wash the sheets every Wednesday and deliver my MOW food every Friday, but other than that? Not so much.
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My house was so messy last Thursday when the termite guy came for his annual inspection that I thought it would be funny to mess with his head and tell him I was the live-in housekeeper. But I didn't. (Ennui.)
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The one project I do want to get to soon is my daughter's wedding veil. Carole's daughter gave us her wedding veil and I have great plans for it. My mother had a gorgeous necklace and earrings set of Austrian crystals from the 1960's. My daughter is going to wear the necklace and I deconstructed the earrings:
That left me with 36 gorgeous Austrian crystal beads in two different sizes. And by the way, Austrian crystals are really hard to photograph. I took maybe 10 pictures trying different things and this was the best I could do. And that picture doesn't look at all like how the crystals look to my live eyeballs.
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So I have a plan for doing beadwork onto some as yet unbought and imaginary thing that I will magically find at the fabric store. This will be on top of my daughter's head attached to the veil. That's my plan, anyway. But the thing is, it's too hot to go to the fabric store. Or do pretty much anything really. I'll get around to it later.

A Well-Crafted Song

I wanted to hear "At Last" and went to YouYube. I listened to the classic Etta James version and then I listened to the Beyonce version. I found the comments fascinating. There seemed to be a big feud going on about who performed it best. Me? I just love the song.
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Oh sure there have been songs that I've argued, "Oh no! That version was better!" But the reality is: a well-crafted song stands on its own and is not dependent upon the performer.
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It's odd that people argue over these songs without giving credit to the writers of these songs. The very fact that a song evokes such strong feelings means it's just a very good song. Oh, I know that for many people the strong emotion comes from the song memory being from a certain time and certain circumstances, but a truly great song is just that.
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There are some songs that could be performed by anyone in the world with a good singing voice and I would just be happy to hear them, like, "If I loved You," but okay, I hate when people sing "Somewhere over the Rainbow." Why do they even try?
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Okay, now I'm not even making any sense. Maybe contradicting myself even. So some songs are about the song, and some songs are about the singer. I guess we sometimes have an association with a certain singer.
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And then there are songs that you never particularly cared for until a singer or band that you like performs them. I have one of those. In fact, as far as I can tell, I am the only person in the world that prefers the Aerosmith version of "Come Together" over The Beatles version. But then I also prefer the "Oooga chuka ooga ooga" version (Blue Swede) of "Hooked on a Feeling" over that of the boring original by BJ Thomas.
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But if you really want to hear a really well-crafted song performed in two distinct manners you should compare The Temptations "Just My Imagination (Running Away With Me)" with The Rolling Stones version. Two different tempos, one great well-crafted song.

A New Hot

So instead of my usual laments about how frikkin' hot it is here, I thought I would let the lovely Ella Fitzgerald explain it to you:

The Baseball Game

Last Thursday we went to a Texas Rangers baseball game. It was a work event sponsored by one of My Sweetie's company's vendors, so everything was very nice. We had a suite and parking passes. On the way there I had a good view of the new Dallas Cowboys football stadium:
According to Wikipedia:

• The stadium seats 80,000, making it the 3rd largest stadium in the NFL by seating capacity.
• The stadium is the largest domed stadium in the world.
• It has the world's largest column-free interior.
• It has the largest high definition video screen

And that all makes sense for a Texas thing I guess. If we ever get free vendor tickets we will go. Otherwise, ....not so much.

Anyway the baseball stadium suite was very nice. This is a view from the suite looking out over our outdoor seating area:

That guy on the far left was a really good-looking New Yorker that I called "The Missing Baldwin Brother." He said he gets that alot. He was one of the vendors throwing the party.
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This was the view of the field from the seating area:

And they had way too much food:

That wasn't even all of it and that's after the poor lady in charge of our suite had just taken out one of the chafing dishes (to the right of the mustard) to make room for a whole new dish of blueberry cobbler. I felt bad for her because my best friend used to do suite service at a ballpark and she always hated when the people ordered more food than there were surface areas. So I told those vendors to leave her a nice tip.

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That takes care of the photo part but what this post was really about was the difference in myself since the last time. In May 2006 we also did a work/suite/baseball game and I was so nervous it was ridiculous. I looked back through my blog and saw that I didn't even post about it. This time I was relaxed and comfortable. I had fun. I was in the moment. I walked away from that game feeling very good. I think I'm ready for this wedding thing now.

Business Smells

I was reading the paper yesterday and saw an ad for a tire sale and all of a sudden it was like I could smell tires.
I was all, "Yuck! I hate that smell!" And that made me think about how certain businesses smell.
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When I was very young, Mom was always going to the Cloth Barn because she did quite a lot of sewing for us. This is an actual picture of that old Cloth Barn which is no longer there. I couldn't believe it was on the internet:

Anyway, I absolutely hated the smell of that place. I don't know what the hell they were using to make fabrics and fabric dyes with back then, but that place burnt the bejeezus out of my eyes and nose. I go in fabric stores all the time now and it never smells like that.
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For three or four months, I worked outside sales for a pest control company and I really really hated the way that place smelled. You could smell it as soon as you pulled into the parking lot. I had to check in in the mornings and evenings and I kept my time there to a bare minimum. The place smelled so toxic - and I imagine it was.
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I worked at three different printing companies and I absolutely LOVED the smell of those places. To me a printing company smells like fresh paint and I love the smell of fresh paint.

Of course, not everyone loves the smell of fresh paint or of printing companies. On occasion, someone would come to take me to lunch and ask, "Ewww, how can you stand that smell?" That always surprised me. Also I've seen TV ads for low smell paint which puzzled me, because the second best reason to paint is for the smell.
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Like cloth stores, another place where the smell has improved is hair salons.

I used to hate the smell of a hair salon. It burned my eyes and nose just like the cloth store of my youth. But as this century rolled around, people pretty much stopped getting perms and that was the smell that was so hideous.
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My very favorite business smells are those sort of hippy (hippie?) oil and candle shops. They remind me of funky little shops at the beach when I was a kid, so that's more of a relationship smell memory I guess. (Sort of how I love the smell of diesel engines because it reminds me of the county fairs of my childhood.) And although the oil and candle shops sort of bombard with you with a multitude of smells, I abhor the perfume counters in department stores. So that's probably odd.
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I imagine someone out there loves the smell of a tire store and hates the smell of a print shop or a candle shop. And there are probably people that have always loved the smell of a hair salon and relish standing in a department store and trying on various perfumes. I guess except for the smells that are hard wired into our animal brains: baby head good, rotten food bad, people will never agree when it comes to smells. But I know what I like. What do you like and dislike?

Treat Your Toes - You'll Love this!

Late Wednesday afternoon I accidentally slid my foot across the deck and I got a large splinter in the ball of my right foot just below my long toe. I grabbed some tweezers and my reading glasses and was able to pull it right out. It was tender at first but I went about my business of making dinner and taking a shower and all my normal nightly things, and then at around 1:00 a.m. as I was sitting right here on the computer I noticed it was really starting to sting. That concerned me because as usual I had been drinking beer all day and I thought, If it stings this badly after this much beer, it must really be in trouble. So I grabbed one of those little plastic disposable bowls that I use when I give Barney canned food and poured some hydrogen peroxide in it. Then I put the ball of my foot in the bowl.
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Oh. My. God. I have never felt anything like that. I told my daughter that it felt like teeny tiny nanite fairies were scrubbing my toenails with teeny tiny nanite fairy soft toothbrushes. It was like toenail heaven. Then I put the other foot in and wow! And after I was done both feet felt so good and happy. It was one of those experiences where your first thought is, Why did I not know about this!!?? I would have been doing that my whole life!
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So get yourself a large bottle of peroxide and a container that will hold your toes and some paper towels. And don't do this over your carpet, because peroxide will bleach it. I did it in the bathroom over the tile. It was yummy and I plan to make peroxide toe soaking a regular part of my life. You have to try it. You will love it!
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Who would have thought I would ever be grateful for getting a big hideous splinter? But I am.

R.S.V.P.

I decided R.S.V.P. stands for Really Slow Vexing Process. I have a tiny handful of my daughter's wedding R.S.V.P.s, but they trickle in so slowly. I get one almost every day. I've never gotten two in one day. The reason I am getting them is because my daughter doesn't check her mail. She's all 21st century and does all her stuff online. (She told me that the postman came to her door once with a giant pile of junk mail and told her she needs to start checking her mail. And when my mother called me and told me that my daughter had not acknowledged her college graduation gift, I had to call my daughter and say, "You need to check your mail.") She also doesn't have a landline, only a cell phone. Thoroughly modern Millie, she is.
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So every day I check the mail and look for that little grey card. To make things easy for us, I had my daughter write the person's name on the back flap of the envelope, just in case they did not include a return address, because the R.S.V.P. card is just a simple yes or no type deal. Smartest idea I ever had because so far only one person has included a return address. And here's the funny part. It was my daughter's dad and stepmom.
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Speaking of ex-husbands: Today I got the R.S.V.P. card from my second husband. I haven't seen him since 1996 or 1997. I could probably write a book about him. He was a brilliant engineer with some patents and now his official job title is something like "house man" at some zen yoga retreat in New Mexico or Arizona. Basically I think he always wanted to be on a different "team" but could never quite come right "out" and say it and as long as his mother is alive, he is having to pretend and try to find peace. That's my best guess anyway. I'm actually looking forward to seeing him. He's a sweet delicate flower sort of person as compared to my first husband (daughter's dad) who is more like a bull in a China shop type of person. He looks like Tom Berenger. The second husband was more of a James Taylor - and even plays guitar.
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I'm really looking forward to all the awkward weirdness and meetings. My two best friends have never met, and neither of them have met my exes. One old friend who will probably not show up, has actually met all of these people except my new friend. And of course my brother and mother know my exes, but haven't seen them in ages. I haven't even seen my daughter's dad since 2002. I think it will be sort of like a Salvador Dali/Escher reunion with a bunch of my daughter's weird friends and her groom's family as extras. Well from my perspective I mean. Which is the only one I have.

The Later Babies

When my daughter was born, I was 23 years, 3 months and 3 days old. That may seem young now, but in 1984, it didn't. My own mother was only 19 when my brother was born. I even have friends around my age that had their first child at 19 or 20. Some even younger.
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The reason I brought this up was because I was looking at the cute picture of an old friend and her son on facebook and realized that she was pretty old when she had him. His age is listed as 2. She's four years younger than me. Maybe he's almost 3. Either way, she had him at age 42 or 43. That seems crazy to me. She will be 60 when she goes to his high school graduation. I can't imagine in my wildest dreams having a child that you have to house, clothe, feed and take care of up until the age of 60. I get tired just thinking about it.
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My one SIL will be 58 when her youngest graduates and my other SIL will be 53. Wow. I was 41 when my daughter graduated from high school. I've basically spent my 40's going through the (distant) trials of watching my daughter mature through her 20's, while these other women will be still disciplining and raising their kids.
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I'm not sure what my point is here. I guess I'm just really glad that I'm not them.

Nostalgia is for Dummies

It's easy to wax nostalgic about the past until our actual brain kicks in and we remember stuff. I can't even begin to tell you how much I hated ice trays. I remember my brother losing some tongue skin on the bottom of one of those metal ones. I had enough sense to know that if I made the mistake of grabbing one with a wet hand to either wait a bit or put it under running water. And I never ran my tongue along the bottom of one.
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What was strange was how sometimes when you pulled that handle it would crack just fine and other times? Well, other times nothing really happened. I also remember all the family arguments and "blame games' over who put an empty ice tray back in the freezer. Not fun.
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At some point in the 70's everyone tossed those aluminum skin rippers and got the blue plastic ice trays:


They seemed all modern and neat and always worked like a charm when they were new. After they got old, either you had to hold them under hot water for a few minutes to get the ice out, or worse, they'd just break.
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The reason I thought about this today was because I had to hand wash some dishes (oh yeah, that's another thing I don't miss - having to hand wash ALL the dishes!). For years, I had trained myself to crack and refill the ice trays after washing the dishes as a way to also rinse the suds out of the sink and sort of conserve water. So sometimes that old, well-trained part of my brain kicks in. I pull the stopper out of the sink, the water runs out and I think: ice trays. But now I just laugh.

Snippets & Snapshots (No Warm Woolen Mittens)

This post will totally work for you if you have a short attention span like I do. I am all over the place here with no specific segues. Ha ha ha! I went to my definiton store to see if I had spelled "segue" right, and look! There is an ad in the middle that asks, "Do you have ADHD?" How very freaking perfect is that?!

Well hey! I did spell it right. What was I talking about? Oh yeah that this post is about many different things. The other day I made grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and I decided to use three different cheeses to make it interesting.:

So I lined them up so the bites would be different and I thought it would be pretty when I cut them in half but. . . :

But they were very tasty!

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Remember my sweet cat Barney with the sweet sad eyes that has to live outdoors because he does not comprehend peeing in the litter box? Well who knew he was a master cicada hunter? He has left cicada carcasses all over the place. They are everywhere! They are all over the back patio and there are bunches in the garage. Barney is single-handedly trying to cleanse Texas of those nasty loud creatures. Who knew?:

On a lighter note, I was in the grocery store last Friday and walked down the "seasonal" aisle. I usually don't go there but decided to take a stroll and found this awesome cute swinging gnome for $4.99 and hung him on my front porch.:

Every day when I open the front door, there he is and he makes me smile. Everyone should have some whimsy in their life. Maybe I should name him "Whimsy."

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Tonight we stepped out of our comfort zone and tried a new restaurant in an area that I'm not crazy about (i.e. snotty, snobby). I really liked the place. It had great seafood, but I was taken aback by the bathroom door signs:

I couldn't decide if they were funny or icky. Speaking of icky fun, we are invited to a "Trailer Trash Bash" in August. It's a pool party at My Sweetie's boss's house. There will be all sorts of weird contests: watermelon seed spitting and beer chugging, as well as a costume contest. Yes, you are thinking what I am thinking. I will SO win that! I have some great ideas and Carole gave me some suggestions. I think it's a lock.

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So this is the end of my random ramblings except to say that this is my 800th post. Time really does fly when you're having fun.

Too Much Fun

I was looking for this picture tonight on my blog because I thought for sure I had posted it before, but I couldn't find it. That's my brother and me. I was looking for the picture because I was getting his card ready to send for his birthday and I wanted to send him a copy of this picture.
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I absolutely love everything about that picture. First of all, a few years ago there was a blog challenge to write your epitaph in 7 words or less and I chose: She knew how to have fun. Also I have always loved the lines:
"Look at me, look at me, look at me now. It is fun to have fun but you have to know how." - The Cat in the Hat.
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On top of that, my brother and I have been guilty of many things and we both have been tossed in jail for stuff. I posted about mine back in 2005, but no one was reading my blog then. My poor brother was tossed in jail in Plano, Texas one night in 1983. He was lost and realized he shouldn't even be driving and pulled into a service station to sleep it off late one Saturday night and after the cops woke him up, pulled him out, and beat him up, they charged him with "drunk and disorderly" when the most he should have gotten was trespassing. Oh well. Cops can be assholes sometimes.
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Anyway, it has always been one of my favorite pictures. I have it in a frame. I think he's going to get a kick out of it. I imagine he hasn't seen it in ages. And who knew a novelty tourist picture could be so accurate? I've certainly been guilty of having too much fun my entire life.

Coming In Waves

I was going to post about how my dinner cooking seems to work on a wave graph. I go through spells where I am so not feeling it and can't think of what to cook, but make something anyway and it's boring, and then I go through spells of sparking on all cylinders and not only being creative and making good food, but I actually enjoy the process.
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As I was looking around for a picture to use, I started thinking how pretty much everything works on a wave graph except aging. Aging is pretty much a straight line.
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Does anyone remember those biorhythm machines in the 70's? You'd put a quarter in and punch in your birthday and the date you wanted to know about and you got a wave chart showing you where that date fell on your personal biorhythmic cycle or something like that. Yeah, ideally it would be great to see our chart and be able to plan things accordingly. And if I were any weirder than I am I might start marking the calendar every day and then make a graph from it, but I'm not THAT weird. Or maybe I'm that weird but too lazy.
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Anyway, I think most things work in waves like on the graph above. It's that whole yin yang, Newton's law of motion, black and white, good and evil thing. Even Kahlil Gibran says to know great joy you must have a well of sorrow (not his exact words). I think the whole up and down wave thing is good. But wait. If I graphed how I feel about it, it would just be a straight line.

Whew!!!

First of all I broke some sort of project record and had my hallway back to normal in 31.5 hours. But I really had some rough moments. You know how there's that laboring/hot weather sweat and there's that other bad anxiety/tension sweat? Well I was working hard and it was hot and then I seriously thought that I was going to run out of paint. Not only that but my arthritic thumb tried to quit on me and I almost dropped the paint roller two or three times. As ambidextrous as I can be with many things, painting is not one of them. I somehow made that paint stretch out and took an etodolac for my thumb and I got it done:

The two pics above are the view from the entryway. The door at the end is the laundry room. This next view is from the laundry room looking down at the coat closet in the entryway:

I guess because of the heat and the air conditioning running full blast, the paint dried pretty quickly and that's why I was able to hang my fun posters back up right away:

I thought it was interesting that the posters had some sort of gold in them that looked good against the paint. I guess I've really been looking at my house with a critical eye since I realized that so many people will be coming to visit in October for the wedding.

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The paint I used was left over from when I painted the accent wall in the living room in 2008. It looked like plenty when I opened the can, but it went SO fast. It was so close that I am not kidding, there was NO paint left. I couldn't even have painted the nail on my pinky finger.

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And speaking of that accent wall, I like the view from the living room where you can see the hallway and the matching paint:

Now, Of course, I want to paint the other hallway, but I am not in a great big hurry. I have until October.

The Not So Little Project

For no particular reason, just as I was going to bed Tuesday night I decided that I wanted to paint one of the hallways. It seemed like a little thing, but that little hallway (maybe 15 feet long) has six doorways. SIX!
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The next morning, I got the walls prepped and taped all the door frames and cut in all around the ceiling and the tops of the doors as well as the 5 little inside corners. You can see two of the little corners around the doorway at the end.
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On the end where I was standing to take that picture, the hallway turns to go into the garage. So I had the two little inside corners around the garage door as well as the little inside corner between the laundry room and the master bedroom where the hallway turns.
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And that step-stool down there? I spent all afternoon going up and down, up and down with little bits of paint on the end of my brush. And it's very hot here. I feel like I lost 6 pounds.
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Tomorrow I will cut in around the door frames,which are taped, and the baseboards, which are not taped - but I had been planning on repainting those forever, so I don't have to be very careful. Then I will roll it all out.
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Of course when I finish, I will want to paint the other hallway and it has SEVEN doors as well as the AC/heater intake vent, thermostat and smoke detector. Yeah, I think I will wait a while to get to that.

The Trill Is Gone

I had an annoying hum in my left ear for over a week. The best way to describe it is the sound of a hotel ice machine through the wall. At first I thought it was coming from our attic fan which is temperature controlled and so has been running non-stop in this heat. But then I noticed I had it away from the house. On Friday, as I was eating lunch, it was really annoying. I wanted to call my doctor right then and there but the restaurant noise was too loud. So I went to the restroom to use my phone. But just as I pulled my phone out of my pocket a bunch of people came in, so I decided to wait until I got to my truck. By the time I got to my truck, I had forgotten or decided to wait until Monday to call.
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Sunday night my phone rang and my phone had an annoying hum in it. I thought it was my friend's phone and didn'y say anything. Later, when Carole called, the hum was still there so I knew it was my phone. Carole heard it too. Then after we had been talking for a while, the hum left. I couldn't tell if my ear had stopped humming or the phone had stopped humming, but Carole said it was the phone. And then Monday morning I woke up and hum in my ear had left too. As horrible as it was, I'm glad I got to experience it because it gave me some insight into tinnitus which my poor Sweetie has suffered from his entire life. Poor fella.

The Mother of the Bride Dress

I found it! Okay, yeah, it was not the dream dress that I posted about earlier, but I think it's even better.

My dream dress had that sort of falling off the shoulders thing going on and I tried on a dress like that and my bra straps were all "Hey! Look at me!" So then I actually spent several minutes thinking of ways to contain my bra straps and then the smarter part of my brain kicked in and said, "Hey!!...Hey Dummy!! You do not want to spend that day thinking about your bra straps!" And that smarter part of my brain was right.
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My original dress criteria was a) sage green, b) long and c) comfortable. What I didn't have on that list was affordable. And Oh! My! this dress was on CRAZYSALE!
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Oh and it's not even a dress. The top part is a tank and jacket (sold as 1 item) and the bottom is a simple easy skirt. It's all pull on, like pajamas. No zippers or buttons or snaps, oh my!
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My daughter and her maid of honor really liked it, so that was that. Oh and did I mention that the top part was originally $109 and the skirt originally $59? And that I got them both for $54? I couldn't believe it! I had that in my pocket.

(pay no attention to the

Fred Flintstone foot peeking out)

Before I found my dress, we went to the bridal shop where my daughter had gone the first time with her maid of honor. She decided on the dress she originally liked but they no longer had it in her size. She grabbed her MOH's camera to show it to me and believe it or not, it was the dress in the picture that I used in the post below. She ordered it and it will come in on her birthday.

Later, we met up again. It was "Meet The Parents" night. Unfortunately, we did not get to meet the groom's dad. He has multiple sclerosis and was having a bad day. But I did get to meet the groom's mom.... e-mail me if you want to hear about it. That's all I'll say, except: I love my dress!

On The Bridal Front

My daughter and I went to a bridal shop on Tuesday. It wasn't the place I had visited 10 years ago and we didn't find anything she liked. This picture was actually taken by her friend in late June. We are going back to the place from the picture on Saturday. The whole thing is still fresh and new and fun for me. Each wedding adventure is something I've never done before.

I've already begun to receive R.S.V.P.s in the mail. I was supposed to go with my daughter this afternoon to my MIL's house to see her idea for centerpieces for the tables at the reception, but our new clothes dryer is scheduled to be delivered between 2:00 and 4:00 this afternoon, so I'm going to have to sit that part out.

Although we had no luck at that bridal shop we had another fun outing together. We talked alot and I am feeling more and more confident about the success of her marriage. As any parent does, I want my daughter to be happy and have a wonderful life. I'm enjoying her so much through this process and get a big kick out of the fact that she is the anti-bridezilla. They should have a name for that. Bridemellow?

My 4th of July

Our 10th wedding anniversary will be in December and I wanted to spend the night in a terrace suite at The Worthington because that's what we did after our wedding. So last week I came up with the idea go ahead and get that suite for 4th of July to watch the Fort Worth fireworks. It was a nice big suite on the 10th floor with a living room:
And bedroom:

The Worthington is located next to the giant Wells Fargo tower:

And I could see my reflection in the Wells Fargo tower:

This is me on the terrace:

Below is a "tour" I made for you from the terrace. Except when I point the camera south, I say "northeast." I meant "southeast."

Sorry the movies are a little blurry. Here are the fireworks:

It was fun!

Flags for the Fathers (and Mothers)

I bought these little 10 inch flags to give out to my Meals on Wheels people today. I wanted to perk them up so I found some red sparkly Christmas ribbon and tied it around the finial at the top. I think they look rather festive and I hope they bring a smile to the faces of my clients.
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I hope all my Canadian friends had a nice Canada Day. (I forgot to wear my Canada Day t-shirt. It's getting pretty old. I think it's from 1995.)
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Have a great holiday weekend!

Hair by Alex

Alex is not my hairdresser. Alex is the hurricane that was in the gulf today. Alex has sent all kinds of rain flying all over the place, including my house, and I had to go to the grocery store today. That also explains the spots all over my shirt.
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Unlike 99.9% of all women and probably many men, I love my hair after being in the rain. I've tried to recreate it with a mister or sticking my head in a shower, but nothing can style my hair like Mother Nature.
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I have naturally curly hair but if I let it dry naturally in the Texas dryness, parts of it straighten out or bits and sections go all haywire. My hair always looks better after I've been caught in the rain than it did when I left the house. I wish I could figure out how that works.