Life in Pictures

When we are young we want our picture taken.  It didn't matter if your hair wasn't perfect, you were wearing your pajamas or you were surrounded by your goofy siblings and cousins. 

Even in a bare midriff with shorts.  (I haven't worn a bare midriff since) 

Then one day you start the little tricks to avoid getting your picture taken.  Here I am standing behind my sister so you only see half of me.  I am so sneaky!

My most dastardly trick was becoming the photographer.  It was the perfect way to record the moments and avoid the awkwardness of trying to position myself in the back of the group. 

Today I walked five miles.  When I got home I asked my husband to take a picture of me.

So here I am.  I am fat.  I am really sweaty.  My hair was a nightmare.

But I walked five miles.

Wolf Boy's Baby

My husband and I were watching television tonight and there was a tease through out one of those so-called news magazine shows.  It was a cat on a balcony with the apartment on fire behind her.  Through the show they teased with the question.  Would the cat survive?  They would show the poor thing wriggling around and the fire blazing in a menacing manner. 

My husband looked at me and said "It's Wolf Boy's baby".

This is part of the secret family language.  Let me explain.





This is not the real Wolf Boy.  This is Michael J. Fox as "Teen Wolf".  But I wanted a picture to go with the story of Wolf Boy's baby.

Some years back my husband and I were just about ready to go to bed.  We had watched the late news and were shutting things down when the teaser came on for the next show.  It was "Ripley's Believe It Or Not."  On the screen came the Wolf Boy.  He was very hairy.  Next to him was his extremely pregnant wife. 

An ominous voice came on the screen giving a little history of the Wolf Boy.

Wolf Boy suffers from a rare genetic disorder known as hypertrichosis - or "werewolf syndrome" which causes a thick coat of hair to grow over every inch of his body except his palms and feet.  His family has a history of this unfortunate condition. 

Now the question was, would Wolf Boy's baby suffer from this disorder. 

My husband and I decided to stay up a little bit longer.  We had to find out.

So we "stayed tuned". 

There were other stories first.  I don't remember any of them.  After every segment we would get another tease.  Wolf Boy's wife would be stroking her pregnant belly, expressing her concern about Wolf Boy's baby.  Then there would be Wolf Boy setting up the crib and talking about his own childhood.  But no look at the baby.  Not yet.

It was getting to the end of the show, there were only a few minutes left.

I should note that this was before DVR and we probably didn't have any blank VHS.  That was the way things worked around the turn of the century.  Today we would just set record and go to bed, knowing that we could see it at our leisure.

But this was in the nineties.  So we had to wait.

Then, with only 30 seconds left in the show we finally got a shot of Wolf Boy's baby.

Not the actual Wolf Boy's baby.

It was just a regular baby.

Now don't get me wrong.  I didn't want an innocent child to have to suffer from this unfortunate disorder, but come on.  I stayed up and all I get is a normal, regular baby!

From then on whenever there is a tease on a show, "Inside Edition" is one of the worst offenders of this, my husband and I know.

It is just Wolf Boy's baby. 

The cat jumped and was perfectly fine. 

Yes. 

I watched to the end to find out.

Father's Day

I started to write a lot of things about father's day.  But every story made me miss him more.  So here are just a few pictures and memories.

I think of him every time I hear a Johnny Cash song.

Or when my son looks at me like this.

Or when I see a goofy saying on a t-shirt.  Especially when paired with a slightly evil grin.

When I hear my son laugh in Dad's full-throated, whole body sort of way.

My oldest nephew is all tangled up in my memories of my dad.  They were best buddies. He would take him on errands and make sure he talked to him almost every day.  I wish he'd had a chance to be that way with all his grandkids.

No one else has ever quite measured up.  I miss you Dad.  Happy Father's Day.

The Colonoscopy! A Live Blogging Adventure

Warning!  If the title didn't tip you off, I will be writing about my husband's colonoscopy.  It may contain graphic information and is not about a movie.  But I hope it will be fun.  If not for my husband, for all of you.

If you recall, my husband had a momentous birthday this year.  With this birthday comes a new era of wellness procedures. 

At his last physical the doctor told him it was time for his first colonoscopy.  He doesn't have a family history and hasn't had any worrisome symptoms.  It is just about being fifty.

It was originally scheduled a month ago.  He had picked up his gallon jug from the pharmacy and was not looking forward to the prep work.  Then the doctor's office called and had to reschedule.  Dr. Poo, (Not her real name, but amusingly close) had jury duty.

So that gallon jug has been sitting in the dining room waiting for a month.  A constant reminder of what is to come.  Kind of like a dirty promise.

The funny thing about these type of procedures is that once people find out you are having one, they love to tell you horror stories.   And all the stories are about the prep for the procedure.  The general consensus is that the prep is worse than the actual procedure.

The prep began on Saturday.  He had to go on a liquid diet starting a 5PM.  I had to work.  I was on my way home and called to check in.

"What's for dinner?"  This is a common question as I don't cook.  Ever.

"I had chicken bouillon.  You're on your own."  He sounded slightly disgruntled at this point.

I had to feed myself!  This is hard on me too!

The fun continued into Sunday, with the introduction of the prep drink.  I've heard it tastes really bad.  I can't tell you because the instructions specifically state you can't share the drink.

I got home from work last night to a really grumpy husband.  He had been wearing a track to the bathroom all afternoon.  I tried to be discreet with my Jimmy Johns' sandwich, but I could see the looks.  It didn't help that he was watching "BBQ Pitmasters" on TV. 

I tried to help by steering him away from food television and watched my DVR'd episode of "The Glee Project" which he didn't appreciate.  I skipped my episode of the "Next Food Network Star" to avoid more food.

After a night of more trips to the bathroom including the discovery that our son does his pooping in the middle of the night, he is feeling spent.  This morning, he is finishing up his drink.  At 9AM he is cut off and then we have to be at the hospital by 11AM.

I will update as we go.  Watch this space.  And think happy thoughts for my love. 

9:47 AM. Getting ready to leave for the procedure.

11:10 AM. Got to the hospital. Dropped the husband at the main entrance to check in. Parked really far away. Got in and told we are in the wrong place.

Huh? Long walk to the other end ofthe hospital to endoscopy. (had an immature giggle). Find out that is wrong and have to return. Checking in now.


12:05 PM. Finally in pre-op

Husband is feeling grumpy.

The anesthesiologist is about 14 years old and a Nebraska Cornhuskers fan.

EKG time. Nurse had to shave his chest hair.

"Will this effect me getting chicks on the beach?".

2:35 PM.  Well, after all the prep work and getting to sit around in that styling hospital gown, they had to cancel the procedure.  All that fun for nothing.  The husband got a hamburger, which improved his mood quite a bit.  But he is not looking forward to rescheduling.

One plus though.  The nurse heard we were misdirected and had to trek all over the hospital and gave us $10 in hospital bucks.  Good for the cafe or Starbucks.  So I'm all set for next time.

What Are The Odds?

Most mornings I wake up at 4AM.  I have been doing it for a while now and my alarm clock almost never goes off.  I usually feel my bladder saying good morning about ten minutes ahead of time.  Once the old bladder gets my attention, it doesn't snooze.

This morning I had to get up earlier.

Once a year my office has its carpets deep cleaned.   I volunteered (or was volun-told) to come in early and relieve the night manager, who'd stayed late, and oversee the process.

So today my alarm went off at 1:45AM.  It isn't even morning yet at that time.   I woke up before my alarm as this is normally my get up and pee time.  I don't mind as any other day I can look at the clock and be thankful I have two hours left.  Not today.

So I get through my morning. 

I took lunch at 8AM. 

Then at a little after eleven I told my people to have a good day and headed home. 

My husband, who gets up at 3AM met me there at noon and I was ready to tip back in my recliner and catch up on the hours I missed this morning.

But sadly it was not meant to be.

I had dozed off.  Then it started.

Today.

Of ALL days.

Is THE day.

My neighbor decided to take out her 100 year old tree.  

So blocking my driveway. 

And making a lot of noise.

Is a HUGE industrial wood chipper.





How's your day going?

My Dog Stevie

This is my dog Stevie.  We got him almost seven years ago.  Our old dog, Phil had died at the beginning of the summer at the ripe old age of 13. 

As a little puppy

 

Phil was not a good dog.  He could do some cool things.  He could give high fives.  But he was also an escape artist.  He was a terrier/border collie mix.  This is a bad mix.  It creates a very intelligent dog who, when bored, has bad ideas. 

Phil would go in the back yard and immediately check that the gate was locked.  If it wasn't he opened it and went on a walkabout.  If it was locked he worked Andy Dufresne style on his tunnel to freedom. 

He would wait until we were out of sight, slip behind his poster of Lassie and work away.  He did this so many times we had to bury chicken wire along the fence line to keep him in.  We also had to set up a prison style lockdown on the front porch.  The front door and the porch door could not be open at the same time.  All it took was one slip and Phil was out the door and gone.

The most frustrating part of his escapes was that Phil thought it was a game.  He would stay where we could see him.  He would let us get close enough to almost touch him and then would run.  You could almost hear him laughing.  If a stranger happened into the zone, he would walk right up to them and they could capture him.  But only once.  He had a long memory. 

When he died in the spring of 2005 he was missed.  If for no other reason than the insanity and fun he brought to our lives.   

After a few months we realized how much we missed having a dog in the house.   Mostly because we got tired of sweeping the kitchen floor.  One of the habits you get into when you have a dog is if you drop food it magically disappears.  We looked at the random chips or shreds of cheese on the floor and knew it was time.

About this time I went to Wisconsin for my sister's 40th birthday.  It was a surprise party and was a smashing success.  I had a great time.  The next day, before I went home I was invited to a brunch at her friend's house.  The friend had a Corgi mix named Sasha who was the coolest dog I had ever met. 

When I got home I told my husband that I'd found our dog.  We started watching the ads. 

Now in my world, and don't ask me why, dogs are boys and cats are girls.  I finally found a pair of male Corgi puppies in a town nearby.  I took a half day off of work and drove up.

The entire drive I was worried.  How would I pick between the puppies?

I walked in the door and there was a large cardboard box. 

This sweet face popped up.  His brother was sleeping and Stevie looked at me as if to say "Mom! I'm ready to go home!"

Stevie has been a really good dog.  But he has some small issues.  He is scared of a lot of things.

Here are just a few.

• Pop cans
• Plastic bags
• Thunderstorms
• Vacuum cleaners
• Getting his picture taken

This morning I let him out to do his business.  Trapped on the fence at the back of the yard was a piece of plastic flapping in the wind.  You'd think it was a serial killer the way Stevie was growling and barking.  I tried every trick to get him in the house.  I called sweetly.  I lowered my voice and called gruffly.  I shook the treat box. 

After all it was 7AM on a Sunday.  People sleep. 

Finally I put on my shoes and went to the fence.  Stevie, still in protection mode dodged in front of me, trying to keep the evil plastic from eating me.  I got to it and had to crumple it completely in my hand and get it out of sight. 

With that Stevie was able to follow me into the house.  I gave him a treat for protecting us from that bad, bad plastic.  It was exhausting for the little guy.  Once I was settled in my chair and safe, he went back to join Dad in bed.

It is tough being such a good dog.

Working On The Weekend

I have to work this weekend. 






This happens once a month since I work for a company that is open seven days a week.  I am lucky that I don't have to work every weekend, but it is still kind of a pain.  It is sort of like when my husband is on vacation without me.

It also sucks, because instead of my early morning 6 to 3 shift, on the weekends I am working 10 to 7.  I hate mid shifts.  There isn't time to do anything before work and after work I am too tired. 

I didn't have a movie I wanted to see this weekend, so I guess it isn't a total loss.  My husband was supposed to have a colonoscopy on Monday but his doctor got jury duty.   Doctor's should be able to get out of jury duty, don't you think?

So on Monday I will have time to write about something.  See you then!  Have a good weekend.

Adventures In Traffic

I like to check my stats for my blog.  It gets a little obsessive.  I wonder why some days I only have a few hits, other days it will jump up for no reason I can find.   I have been read around the world.  I am quite popular in Russia.  I have no idea why.  Guess they like movies.

United States

Russia

Germany

United Kingdom

Latvia

Canada

Malaysia

Brazil

Australia

France

I have Facebook friends in Germany (Hi Marga!) and Canada (Hi Bunny!).  I even know someone in Australia, (Hi Rocky!).  But I have never met or even through the internet connected with anyone in Latvia.  I have hit almost all the continents.  No one in Africa yet though.  So if you know anyone there, can you send my blog for the hit.  I'd like to be truly worldwide. 

One of Blogger's other functions is that it will show you what people searched to find my blog.  I find these hilarious.





1.  the time it was

I have no idea what they got with this search.  Hope they weren't disappointed.  It was probably a story about my dog.





2.  heathers 1988 review j.d

Easy, my "Heathers" review.  Great flick. 





3.  movie spoiler for mrs winterbourne 

Spoilers in "Mrs. Winterbourne"?   I think that it is a pretty straightforward romantic comedy.  Don't get me wrong.  I love it and Brendan Fraser.  But I can't think of anything too spoiler worthy.




4.  1987 caesars palace robbery from oceans 11 

I was quoting Elliot Gould's character.  They were probably searching to see if it was a real robbery.





5.  gwyneth paltrow devil

This let's me know that I am not alone in my belief that poor Blythe Danner or Bruce Paltrow made a "Rosemary's Baby" style deal to advance their career and the result was the devil's spawn that is Gwyneth Paltrow. 

Thank you Internet!

We Interrupt This Movie Blog For A Book.

A new Stephen King book came out today.   So for the next 298 pages or so I will be busy.  It isn't just any story.  We are back on the road to the Dark Tower and I am very excited to see what adventures my favorite ka-tet get into.

When I come back, I want to cast the other book by King making the news.  There is word that the ScyFy network is making a miniseries out of "The Eyes Of The Dragon".  I happen to be listening to this on audio in my car.  It is a great book. 

I will need to think up my dream cast for the adaptation.  Any suggestions? 

Nervous

Yesterday I got home and my husband and I took our dog Stevie to the vet.  It was time for his annual check up with rabies and all his other shots. 

Stevie is the happiest dog in the world.  When we get the leash out he starts dancing around the living room.  He can't wait to GO FOR A RIDE!  Even though his only ride is to the vet.  Unlike normal dogs, Stevie loves everyone at the vet's office.  He jumps on every person and covers them with kisses of unadulterated joy. 

Now, along with being the happiest dog in the world, he is also the biggest wuss.  This is a dog who is scared of pop cans and plastic, grocery bags. 

When we go to the vet, the first thing they have us do is step on the big scale.  It is usually a big battle.  I have to drag him to the edge and then pull him onto it while the vet's assistant holds him long enough to get his weight.   This time Stevie hopped right on it. 

We got into the exam room and he jumped right up on the exam table.  This was also unprecedented. 

Then the exam started.  Stevie didn't like the taking of the temperature, which I don't blame him for!  Then there were problems with his blood draw.  Stevie is a Corgi and they have short little legs.  The assistant had a hard time finding a vein.  Then the doctor couldn't find it.  Finally they got a few drops out. 

Stevie immediately forgave them and gave them more kisses.  He endured the rest of the exam.  But at one point there was an odor.

"Oh, he must be nervous, he's passing a little gas."  The vet commented.

We nodded solemnly. 

He finished the exam and Stevie passed all his tests.  He got all this shots and was ready to go. 

We got into the car and I couldn't stay quiet anymore.

"Stevie covered for me."   I announced.

"What?"  My husband asked.

"It wasn't Stevie that farted."

My husband laughed the whole way home.  Thanks Stevie.

Message Boards

IMDB, Internet Movie DataBase to the great unwashed, is probably my most used website.  I go there almost every day.  Some times it is for this blog.  Most of the time it is because the husband and I are watching some show and this question comes up.

"What have I seen that actor in?"

Then it is a race to jump on the site and find the answer.  It is a two stage process with my husband.  I have to find out who the actor is and then find the movie that he was in that my husband would know.

I love to cruise the site.  I get quotes and check box office results.  When I am stuck on what to write about I check on birthdays and see if that sparks the writing fire. 

One of the things that bugs me though are the message boards.  I enjoy checking out the boards but have found that there are only three types of people posting on the message boards. 

There are the SUPERFANS!





This is a group that believes the actor, show or movie they are posting about is THE BEST THING THAT EVER HAPPENED ON THE PLANET!!!!!!!

They get very upset if anyone says anything slightly negative.  They scoff if someone doesn't know as much as they do about the subject of their obsession. 

They love to write long paragraphs defending their favorites complete with quotes and links.

Next are the Trolls. 





They are the opposite of the SUPERFANS.  They go to the message boards to spread hate and to tick off the SUPERFANS.  They post how a movie is stupid or has Major Plotholes.  An example?

On a "Dirty Dancing" board, a troll started a thread on how unrealistic the movie was.  They stated that there were lots of dancers at the resort.  It didn't make sense that Johnny Castle would go to all the trouble to train Baby, a non-dancer to take Penny's place.

HELLO!  Then it wouldn't be a movie. 

Imagine that movie.

Baby:  Here is $200 for your ill advised abortion Penny.

Penny:  Thanks rich girl, but I have to work so I can't take it.

Johnny:  Wait, I know all the real dancers are working but Gertie from housekeeping has the day off.  She dances for watermelons here.  We'll get her.  Problem solved.

Baby:  OK.  I guess I'll go play shuffleboard.

The End. 

Yeah, that movie would have been awesome.

The final group are the Idiots.





I have been at the movies where these people show up.  I don't know how they navigated their way to the theater.  They have no clue! 

They ask terribly obvious questions which the Trolls and SUPERFANS pounce on like a dog goes after a ham. 

They start threads with questions like this.

"Hunger Games": Why did Katniss join the Hunger Games if she didn't want to die?

Did we watch the same movie?   It seemed to be pretty well explained how she got into her situation and there was no "joining" involved.

I love movies.  Just about any genre with a good storyline.  I rarely post because of these people.  I know this is something that happens on all message boards across the internet. 

I just wonder.  Is the anonymity of the internet that brings out the worst in people?  Who are the SUPERFANS in real life?  Do their co-workers know they have memorized every line of the "Twilight" movies and are counting the days till "Breaking Dawn - Part 2" comes out?

Do the Trolls include that guy at the office who loves pointing out my grammar mistakes in an email? 

Are the idiots....?  No.  I'll stop right there.  We know who they are.   (They are everywhere)

The bottom line for me is that there are a lot of movies out there.  If you like it, great.  If you don't, I won't judge you.  But why throw a fit on the internet about it?

Big Garbage Day 2012

This is not a movie.  It is a mission. 

In the town I live we have Big Garbage Day every year in April.  Until I lived here I had never heard of Big Garbage Day.  What happens is that each year people take all the crap in their houses that is so crappy that you can't sell it and throw it out in front of the house.  On Saturday a truck comes around and picks up all your crap.  It is a happy day.

People start putting their stuff out early in the week.   Piles of furniture, old appliances and defunct toilets make their way to the curb.

It is a great kick off to Spring Cleaning.  We have put out more than our share of big garbage.  But two years were extra special. 

One of the things about big garbage day is that every one's idea of what constitutes crap is different.  The whole, "one man's trash is another man's treasure" is the mantra for Big Garbage Day.  That is why people don't wait to the end of the week to dump their trash. 

Each year cars and trucks, most waiting until dusk roam the streets looking for booty.  Some are sneaky but others will actually knock on your door and tell you they are taking your crap.  It is always interesting to see what is attractive to these crap vultures. 

But I must admit that more than once I've cruised by some one's house with this thought running through my head.

"If that is still there after dark..."

Only once have I acted on these dark desires.  The people across the street threw out a chair.  It was a big, overstuffed arm chair.  I took the dog for an unprecedented walk to check it out.  Except a rip on the back, it looked good.  It looked really good. 

I went to my husband with the plan.  We'd wait for dark and then we'd grab the chair and carry it home.  I watched it from my front window hoping none of the crap vultures would spot it.

It was finally dark enough.  I called my husband. 

"You were serious?"  He asked, mouth agape. 

"Yes.  It is a great chair.  Come on!" 

I dragged him out and we ran across the street like thieves keeping an eye out for any witnesses.   We each took a side and ran sideways back to our house.  We were laughing so hard we almost fell over.  But that chair was in our living room for several years until the seat finally collapsed and  we returned it to the curb and its Big Garbage Day destiny.

A few years later we had our own furniture to put out.  We'd been married about a year when we bought our first couch.   In our youth and stupidity it was a light colored couch.  Over the years it was spilled on, peed on, and dripped on.  It had been relegated to the family room where my son continued the assault on this poor piece of furniture. 

It became lovingly known as "THE STINKY COUCH". 

One year we got new chairs for the living room so there was a shift in furniture through the house.  Finally we could get rid of "THE STINKY COUCH".  We dragged it out to the curb and waited.  A half an hour later we heard a vehicle stop outside the house.   By the time we got to the window "THE STINKY COUCH" was gone. 

The actual "Stinky Couch" and our old dog Phil.

"OH MY GOODNESS!!  THEY TOOK THE STINKY COUCH!!!"

We danced with joy and wonder at the removal of "THE STINKY COUCH".   We called relatives to announce the disappearance of the legendary "STINKY COUCH.  It was truly amazing.

But our joy was short lived.  A half an hour later we heard a vehicle squeal to a stop and a loud thud.  Then the vehicle sped off at great speed for a residential setting.  We walked to the window and saw.

"THE STINKY COUCH" was back. 

I have always assumed that the people that took it thought it was a good couch.  It looked nice enough.  But upon closer inspection it was apparent why it was called "THE STINKY COUCH".

So finally my new mission.  Our front porch is screened in and has become a dumping ground of sorts, so over the next couple of days we need to move some crap off the porch.  Our porch resembles an episode of "Hoarders" and it is time to remedy this.

This is my mission if I choose to accept it.

Wish me luck.

What To Do?

I have a dilemma.  My husband got a $25 gift card for Amazon.com.  Since he loves me and hates to shop on the Internet, he has given it to me. 

I know I could save it and buy something practical like vitamins, but I want something frivolous. 

Yes.  I am a little selfish.  It's only $25.00.

A couple of months ago I used some expiring credit card points for Barnes and Nobles gift cards.  This was good, because it will feed my intense Nook reading addiction. 

With have Netflix and HuluPlus, I don't really NEED any DVDs.  Plus there aren't any classics that I don't have and they end up playing newer movies over and over on cable anymore. 

So there are other things on Amazon.com.  For goodness sake there are millions of things there and this silly gift card is itching in my inbox.

I could get a Rubber Chicken Tote Bag.




I could afford two "Hunger Games" official replica Mockingjay pins.




I can afford a 16 oz canister of Bacon Salt.  And we all know everything is better with bacon.





I could buy Bongo Drums.  ( I'd have to hurry and decide on this one as there are only 12 left!)




Or I could finally invest in that Cat Face t-shirt I've always wanted.




It is too much stress.  I don't know what to do.

Random Thoughts 4/8/12

I had to work today.  I work in an office that is open nearly all the time.  So from 10 AM to 7 PM I was at work.   I hustled home for many reasons.

"Amazing Race" is on at seven, unless, like tonight some sporting event goes long and then it doesn't start until after "60 Minutes" airs in it's entirety.  This irritates the crap out of me!  How do they get that deal?  It must suck for the network to shuffle things around to catch up as well.  This also throws off the entire Sunday night DVR schedule.  Because we can only record two shows at a time, so if we want to see "Celebrity Apprentice" we have to cancel "Desperate Housewives". 

Just that is exhausting. 

I am also working at 6 AM tomorrow morning for the first time in months.  This means I need to get up at 4 AM in order to make it on time.  So, as I write this, I should be in bed.  Soon enough. 

It was also Easter Sunday. 







When I was a kid, Easter was a big holiday.  The weeks leading up to it were Lent, and being a Catholic school child, that involved a lot of church and no red meat on Fridays.  The smell of incense takes me back to this time in a flash.

My sister and I called the priest of our church to quiz him on the whole red meat thing.  Since chicken was called white meat, shouldn't we be able to eat that on Fridays during Lent?  That was a big no. 

When I was thirteen I went to a sleepover on a Friday night during Lent and they made little English muffin pizzas.  I was sure I was going to be struck down by lightening because I had eaten one with sausage on it.   This is the first time I have confessed this to anyone.  I am still a little scared.

But my favorite Easter memory was when I was about eight.  My parents worked nights and didn't leave work until seven in the morning.  Well that year my little sister and I woke up early.  We rushed downstairs ready to unleash our junkie selves into a big old chocolate bunny.

But to our devastation there was nothing there.  No colored eggs.  No green cellophane grass.  Nothing.

Just nothing. 

We sat on the couch holding each other.  The only thing we tasted was the salt of our bitter tears.  We couldn't figure out what we'd done to anger the big bunny. 

That is when my dad got home.  He walked in the door with his arms loaded down with five children's worth of Easter goodness.  He spotted us on the couch and let out a little gasp.

We stared at him in confusion.  What had happened?

"All this was on the back step."  He announced.  "I guess the Easter Bunny couldn't get in the house."

All was well again.  There was candy.  Later we put on new Easter clothes and made our way to church.  Easter services are among my favorite.  The spring flowers and the happiness of the resurrection.  It is a nice service.  

It is late, so I hope everyone had a nice Easter. 

Back To Work

On Monday I went back to work.  The first day was really hard.  I had to work all day!  I have spent the last eight weeks in yoga pants with the ability to nap at will.

Things are wild and crazy and I am working to jump back into it.  So many people greeted me and welcomed me back.  Then I get to tell my "surgery" story.  That is fun too.  I have several versions depending on the level of interest. 

Most people give me the head tilt.






They smile gently, sometimes touch my arm with the tips of their fingers.   Then a quiet, almost whisper.

"How are you?"

"Fine.  Thanks."  I answer just as quietly.

They nod and go on with their day.

Others are more interested.





But not in my surgery, more in my time off. 

"So did you get bored?" 

"What did you watch?"

"Are you happy to be back?"

If they don't already read my blog, I don't admit to what I really watched.

"Oh, I just got a lot of rest and I am glad to be back." 

Then there are the people that want to know!





I try to gauge their reaction on how much of the nitty gritty they really want.   Sometimes I go a little far but most people make their limits clear right away.

It is nice to feel like they missed me.  I figure next week all bets are off. 

I am going to get back to my daily posting too starting today!  See you tomorrow.