I'm missing book club

I missed book club tonight. Argh. Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it to work up here. Each day seems okay. But I'm stuck in two worlds. I like both of them, but am not fully invested in either. Sucks sometimes.

I didn't read the book anyway. I'm like that. I don't read books that I have to make myself read. This one "The Promise" by Chaim Potok had potential, but by the time I started to read it, it was too late. At least that's what I told myself.

I'm reading a book at work that I'm not wild about too. I may have to bail on that one too. The book I'm reading at Joan's (my Waukee home) is kinda hot, and/or I'm lonely for Pablo the Pool boy.

Sharpest Scimitar

An Alex Delaware (Jonathon Kellerman) book I'm listening to had a good line in it that I heard today - "She's not the sharpest scimitar in the scabbord." Made me chuckle. I don't always feel too sharp.

Now I have a new line to describe me!
I made a new friend at work today. NOT! Actually I get the idea a woman who works on my floor does not love me as she should. I mean, what's not to like? Okay so I can be a smart ass and opinionated. But I try to hide it most of the time.
The person took offense to my suggestion that we shouldn't purchase a gift card from a certain vendor - a huge retailer that evidently had toxicity issues with their bags somewhere in the country. So I passed that information along in an email, which I said in my usual witty manner, taking care not to sound too bossy. I guess I didn't take enough care because said employee took offense. Another woman in my department said I should just "leave it alone". So I will.
But oh I won't forget! I've got quite an elephantlike memory when it comes to things like this! Like the time in 6th grade when I was going to climb onto my desk like another student was doing and Mrs. Pellett chastised me. She never did like me much. And she wasn't my fave teacher either! I don't get mad, I get even...

It's your last chance

"It's your last change Dave Bullock". I don't' know how many of those mailings we've received in the past two years since Dad died. I always chuckle to myself. He did love to order things - he could just reach out from his toasty grave (not that he's in hell, but he was cremated) and ring up one last purchase.


The year after Mom passed away, our family went to Florida for Christmas. And Dad had gone hog-wild on the home shopping network. He had not one but two special mops. Like he ever mopped in his life! And he'd joined VHS tape of the month club and had a large library of videos. I think Reader's Digest stock actually plummeted when he passed away - they ended up refunding over $50 - like 4 years worth of magazines.



I spent some time removing Dad and the Goldsmiths from catalog lists. If your getting catalogs you don't want or need, do Mother Nature a favor and register on: http://www.catalogchoice.org/

Groucho moucho

At left, my dad (handsome Dave Bullfrog) with the 3 eldest Bullock girls - Susi, left, me (the favorite) on Dad's lap and Cindy with the big grin and bad bangs.

I'm feelin' grouchy today. This cold wet weather, and my recurrence of shoulder issues despite several weeks of therapy with Dr. Wes.

When I was a little girl, my sisters teased me unmercifully. When I dared act all crabby-like, they called me Groucho Moucho. They had a little ditty they'd sing. "Groucho Moucho - oooh that puss". I thought they made Groucho Moucho up, but I just googled it, and and Marx videos popped up. Hmmm.

Cindy the blondie was the evil sister. I guess you can tell by the grin. One time - it may have been on that very couch - she caused me to impale my ass on a nail. We were playing the bounce on the couch game. I bounced while she darted a stick with a nail on it under me, snatching it away when I bounced down. And then she left it under me, and was forced to cover my mouth so I didn't shriek to our parents upstairs. It's a good thing I didn't get lockjaw.

Cindy and I are good friends now. We're a lot alike. we have the same sense of humor. Hell I can't even feel the scar from the puncture incident.

Tonight I did a little shopping therapy, and after buying $59 Eddie Bauer pants for $20, I feel much better.

Stormy weather

It's been stormy all weekend. I'm tired of it. Iowa weather is quite bi-polar this time of year. Cold, warm, sunny, windy, cloudy and then - tornadic.

We had a ranch house while I was growing up in A-town, and our safe spot was in the basement - in a corner of the playroom just next to the piano. In extreme weather, mom would pack us all downstairs with blankets and she would listen to the radio. It was quite exciting for a kid!

Of course we've done the same thing with our kids, though we were very hesitant to wake them up to wisk them downstairs. Just last year Jud, Paul and I were downstairs during the rain, hail, tornado in April. Jud gets pretty freaked out and was wishing Paul had built a "safe room" in our basement. The safest spot was filled with pain cans - Jud was ready to start flinging them so he could fit.

I think the most scared I've ever been traveling was when I was driving a couple times. The wind was so fierce and the car felt like it would topple! Last year after we moved Jud into his new apartment in Ames, we drove through such a storm in between Ames and Boone. Made my heart go pitty pat!

Then last fall, cruising in McKim's recreational vehicle after a football game, a windstorm nearly wisked us off the road just before Ogden. The awning whipped out and flopped around. Don said we slid across a whole lane of traffic - good thing it was late at night! And good thing my crisp chardonnay had not yet totally worn off!

Weather is something to respect.

Career to mom

Paul enjoyed a successful first "boss man" job for USDA's Soil Conservation Service in Osage, Iowa for two years - from 1984-1986. It was a very flat county, so not much work load. The clerk Sandy was excellent and taught him a great deal! We still exchange Christmas cards with her.


I found gainful employment in the computer department at Fox River, a woolen mill. Soon after starting my job, I found out I was pregnant. I had been pregnant the fall before, but there was no heartbeat, so I'd had a D&C, ending the pregnancy in October 2004. It was pretty devastating. Things like that NEVER happened to me! And my best friend was pregnant, and I no longer was. It was a hard time.


Then the doctor said he was concerned I'd had a molar pregnancy - where the tissue becomes almost cancerous and overgrows. He said I needed to wait to try again to get pregnant until after the first of the year, which was right after I'd started the new job at Fox Sox. After January 1, the doc wanted to re-test to make sure I was okay. When I got the all clear on that med test (phew...if it had turned out bad, I was facing chemo), I was preggers in about a minute.


This pregnancy we didn't tell anyone the news except our families, until we heard the heartbeat. I had another scare when, while a few month pregnant I got a bad case of food poisoning after attending VEISHEA - must have been something I ate after the parade. I was sure I'd killed the kid, but it was a hardy little bastard. I had a very re-assuring doctor from Mason City named Dr. Dunker. He was awesome!

The rest of my pregnancy was pretty uneventful. Friends loaned me maternity clothes – and I went from “you’re not very big for being X months pregnant” to you’re huge! I gained some 40 pounds, and Paul heeded the advice never to mention to your wife that she weighs more than you.

We took a last “single” vacation to a resort in Minnesota in August. I was due October 7. In September the doc started teasing me with – “you’ll go early” statements. I believed him. I got uncomfortably huge, with painful hips. Finally, in early October I wasn’t able to work. It was depressing to be such a whale – I wanted that baby (nicknamed Turdell) out. I cried and was a bitch.

Finally, Dr. Dunker said “we’re going to induce labor Wed. October 9th!” We called our family and friends. We were so ready! The big day we traveled to Mason City very early in the a.m. When we got there they said “no room in the Inn” the maternity ward was too full I’d have to come back next time the doc was on call – Monday October 14. Shit! Sentenced to another few days of misery. I cried. (it happened a lot back then – hormones)

So the big day ended up being the 14th – which I like better than 9 anyway. I truly believe I would still be pregnant without my good friend pitocin (labor inducing). And Turdell ended up being our beloved Amy Elizabeth – 9 lb. 7 oz, ripped from my womb with forceps. Perfect baby with red hair. The hospital used her as the demo baby for “teach the parents to bath the newborn” class. I was so proud. Somehow my career didn’t seem all that important anymore… I was a mom!

Ahhh, a day working at home.
My new job (okay I've been at it for four months now, but it's gonna feel new until the first year is over) is hard. I work hard at it, and the commuting part is hard. There are a lot of logistics involved, starting Sunday night when I pack my bag.
Cue "all my bags are packed, I'm ready to go...I'm waiting here beside my door" (Leaving on a jet plane - Peter, Paul and Mary song, and...written by John Denver and another guy)
I've got to put together clothes options for the week - keeping in mind the weather (especially now that it's spring and it can be hot or cold), and my schedule. I can't show up for a meeting in jeans in a t-shirt now can I? Plus I needs me workout clothes - something I walked out without this week, forcing me to purchase another pair of walking shoes. Now I have a pair for each location.

Plus I have to refill my meds. Yes, I'm my father's daughter. I recall he had a whole little shaving kit bag filled with various meds, salves and beauty aids. I've actually got one of those little pill organizers, just like an old person (argh - truth revealed). Plus I take vitamins daily, but they are relegated to a baggy. So they all need to be dispensed into the right place.

Then there's the food. I usually shop over the weekend and get my bag started of stuff for work - cereal, snacks, drinks. Then there are the cold things - cottage cheese, yogurt, leftovers and fruit. A girl's gotsta eat.

Last but not least there is reading material and a book on CD to listen to during the commute. I do keep some stuff at Joanie's place in my corner of the basement. A million thanks to Joan for that. And Krissy made space for me in the bathroom - so I don't have to drag my huge makeup collection back and forth. (LOL)

So a day working at home is a huge relief. I slept in my own bed last night. With my own man. Ahh he's a good back scratcher. Nuff said. Odie was a bit restless last night. When it's cold, she's under the covers in a minute. I got up this a.m. to walk with Deb and Susan. Patti was evidently heading to Des Moines with her momma for garage sale heaven.

Home by 7 a.m. tired and sweaty. A quick shower, breakfast and then to my comfy chair to review Qualifications from a Request for Qualifications (RFQ). I got through 5 of ten in 5 hours today, with a nice break in the middle to meet Pablo for lunch. How nice is that work day? My kitty is by my feet. Makes all that organizing and packing worth it. That, plus the 'ol paycheck. I'm enjoying the hell out of that!

Tender butts

The formatting on this blog is often screwy...so please don't blame me for the wacky paragraph spacing!

Never let it be said Americans are hardasses. I saw this blurb while cruising through newspapers today.

--- The Natural Resources Defense Council and Greenpeace commenced campaigns in February critical of the peculiar preference of Americans for ultra-soft or quilted toilet paper. In less-picky Europe and Latin America, 40 percent of toilet paper is produced by recycling, but Americans’ demand for multi-ply tissue requires virgin wood for 98 percent of the product. The activists claim that U.S. toilet paper imposes more costs on the planet than do gas-guzzling cars.

That is just wacked! I think I use fewer sheets because the TP is thicker. I also like strong kleenex or puffs. Not the cheap stuff that feels like a sheet of paper. I like to think I'm a good steward of our earth, but I'm not giving up my cushy paper products just yet.

I've arrived back in Creston for the weekend. Yay! The week went by pretty quickly. As I commuted this week I've been listening to a book on CD by Patricia Cornwell. It's pretty gory - the character, Dr. Kay Scarpetta, forensic pathologist, is always in on murder investigations and she describes the victims with scientific terms. I enjoy these books though because the author is good at portraying characters with multiple facets and qualities - good and bad, kind and not so kind. Just like real people.

I continue my visits to Dr. Wes, chiropractor to the stars (or lowly public servants). It does seem to be helping, my neck/shoulder seems lots better in the past week. I get re-evaluated next week. I'm pretty sure he'll be recommending that I be on the 1 or 2 times/week visits for the rest of my life program. Not likely Dr. W.

I have grown quite fond of Andrea the receptionist. It was her very first day working for DW (Dr Wes) the day I was desperate enough to go to a chiro. We've bonded, as I've spent some time sitting in the lobby. She likes to sing along with her tunes. Her husband and baby boy have been at the office a couple times, so I know the whole fam. I'd have to say she's the best new friend I've made in my 2nd home of Waukee. I know - it's sad.

I'm basically a pretty shy person. At least until I get to know people. Then I open up - probably to the point of oversharing. I'm not very secretive when it comes to telling intimate personal things to friends. Just ask my husband - I think he's still shocked by some of the things I tell people. Like this blog! I respect that others might want to be more private with their "stuff".

Happy Earth Day!

I wish every day was Earth Day - for me it kind of is.

Today, in order to celebrate, DNR offered opportunities for employees to take their lunch time to pick up litter around the building. So, me, being the former landfill director who has picked a peck of litter, I volunteered. It was a gorgeous day and I enjoyed being outside, even if I was armed with a big bag for litter and a smaller one for recyclables.
You can't recycle cigarette butts. That's mostly what I ended up picking up. Damn smokers anyway...and most of the butts were smoked down to the filter. Why do they think the world is their ashtray?
The people walking by me on the sidewalk, most from DNR, looked at me like I was a drunk driver convict doing community service! But I didn't care. I was right at home. Trash has been a big part of my world for the past 10 plus years. When I was the landfill manager, I often busted out the trash bags on windy days to pick up litter.
One EPA email I got today asked what I might do for the environment - I was already doing all 10 of the activities! I'm not perfect - not a total tree hugger. I waste things. But overall, I'm pretty environmentally conscientious. I take my own bags to the store, or don't take a bag. I turn off lights and unplug charging cords when they're not in use. Paul and I installed geothermal heating and cooling in our home last year, and did an energy audit with our power company. I have real dishes at work and even take my own gladlock container into Jason's Deli for my leftovers.
My roomie Joan and I walked after work tonight. Waukee has a great system of bike/walking trails. It was a gorgeous day on our earth!

Foxy

After working three different fruity (and vegetably) jobs, I was finally ready to move on. Paul and I were living the high life, in our little rental house in Osage, IA. Actually, we only had part of the house. An elderly lady, who must have been kinda deaf had the other part. A couple times we heard her TV very late at night and worried briefly that she was dead. But no.

Our house was owned by Shirly and Henry - he was French Canadian and they met on Love Boat and got married at age 60ish. Exciting and New! (from the Love Boat theme in case you didn't recognize...). It was a cute and well kept up home in a neat as a pin town. Those northern towns with their German influence were so nice back then - very few run down places with furniture on the porch and appliances out back!

Osage is home to a family owned woolen mill - Fox River. It was named after the Fox River valley in Wisconsin where the plant started. I think they moved it earlier in the 1900's to escape the labor union. I don't recall if I heard of an opening, anyhoo I put in an application and shortly later was called for an interview. They were starting a computer department and liked my IBM System 32 and 34 experience! Yay a local job.

I would work with Karla, a chick that was only 23 or so years old. Of course I was like 25! We keyed orders into the computer after sales people did hand written orders. We also did payroll - some of the people were paid by the piece, like $.10 per sock they sewed the toes up on. Each Friday we did a back up on a magazine filled with 10 floppies - 7 inch, remember those?

Karla turned out to be quite moody. Each day I would arrive in the computer room (climate controlled) on pins and needles until I determined what the mood was for the a.m. Some days she was downright frosty and wouldn't talk. I quickly learned to follow her lead. Other days she was gregarious and fun. Outside our office was the sales and support staff. Lots of nice women of various ages. My boss turned out to be a neighbor or ours Becky Halvorsen. Word had it she had a thang with the boss, Mr. Lessard.

Fox River was fun company to work for! They had picnics each summer and golf outings. We got cheap socks and gloves!

Plus they didn't pitch a fit when shortly after I started working for them (the year was 1985) I found out I was preggers! I had suffered a miscarriage in the fall of 1984 - it had been tough. I wasn't supposed to try to get pregnant until January. After that date, it didn't take but a couple weeks and I was "with child". That child turned out to be Amy, born October 14, 1985.

My first job - it went on and on

So the saga of my first job (with Snoboy grocery wholesaler Gamble Robinson) didn't end in Sioux Falls. It didn't end in Omaha. Yes, folks it even moved with me to Osage, Iowa. Paul and I got married on 8/28/82. (Insert wedding bell sounds).

After honeymooning in Seattle, and Victoria and Vancouver in Canada, we settled back (yes we lived in a little bit of sin prior to getting married, but keep in mind Paul had knee surgery and my sis Betsy also lived there all summer) into our third floor walk up two bedroom apartment on Littlejohn Circle in Council Bluffs, the armpit of the nation. It was partway in between Paul's job in Oakland, IA (the bellybutton lint of the nation) and my job in the Old Market (in a groinish office) in a cool part of Omaha. We weren't supposed to have pets, so we snuck Bucko the cat in anyway.

In late 1983 Paul applied for a job as District Conservationist in Mitchell County - one of the flat, low workload soil conservation jobs with the federal government. Despite my quest to be a independent workin' gal, I decided to follow my man to northern Iowa. The folks at Snoboy asked me to stay on as Office Mgr. Supervisor. I would travel to small company offices in Northern Iowa and Eastern Wisconsin.

So I began flying out of Mason City on 12 seater airplanes, through Minneapolis and then to Green Bay, WI. I hit hotspots like Sheboygan, Fon du Lac and Menominee. Man those towns had great restaurants. Plus when you're in the food biz, the managers know all the best eating spots. I also got to meet all the nice and interesting people working at the small warehouses. At one place the manager's elderly aunt worked as office manager. It was Easter and she brought homemade caramels for me. While she was working, she would start patting her hair, then snatching the sheers from her desk, she'd hack off an offending piece of hair. I heard tell she had a heart shaped bed! (you hear the darndest things at fruit houses).

Yep, I burned out of that job pretty quickly. Being gone Monday through Friday made it hard on our young marriage. Wait...that's what I'm doing again now...(without the newlywed part). Flying on those small planes was stressful - especially that time we flew through a thunder storm. I applied for a job at a local manufacturing plant - a woolen mill called Fox River. Stay tuned to this blog to hear more of the continuing exciting saga.

Quick hits

Today's Des Moines Register contains an article about how women tend to keep in touch with friends longer than guys do. An author has written a book about a group of Ames, IA girlfriends over 30 years. I think my group of friends and I would kick that group's ass.

Paul Goldsmith does stay in touch with his college friends - mostly over hunting. He doesn't have any high school friends he cares to keep in touch with. We went to only 1 of his class reunions and I found it boring. Probably because it wasn't all about me. I'm self centered that way.

I think life without pets would be much less rich. I hope to have a pet my whole life. Yeah, they're a hassle at times. But the good stuff more than makes up for it. Our friends Vic and Fred just lost their little schnauzer of 14 or so years. I'm sure they are hurtin' and that makes me sad. It's amazing what a huge hole the loss of a pet can be.

I've recently seen and read of several dispicable cases of animal abuse. One successful horse trainer out east had over 100 horses starving to death, riddled with mange on his property. He blames poor management. Bastard! Also a western Iowa kennel owner and friend dumped several dead and near-dead dogs in a Nebraska field. I think she should suffer the same treatment.

Our baby girl just completed part of a long road trip. I'm so relieved she arrived at her destination okay. Thank you to the travel gods. Please continue to keep her safe! I'm somewhat jealous of her footloose path and wish I were with her.

Aren't Sunday evenings just the most depressing? And now I have to pack up for my week away from home. Insert tears...my life has become one of many transitions. I'm so proud of myself for growing and changing at this stage of my life. But that doesn't make it easy. Once I settle into my life at the Wallace building and Des Moines each week, I'm okay.

It was just Veishea week in Ames. I remember the Veisheas of my life fondly - for the most part anyway. It was a proud ISU tradition and I hope the schmucks of the world don't screw it up. Why can't they just party stupidly like we did? Why do the have to fight on Welch Street? Last night, six were arrested. Of course that's just a normal weekend in Iowa City. And that's just the athletes. Haha.

This has been a brutal winter. There has been economic strife, illness, accidents and death. Thank God for spring! Sometimes the pains of life and growing old seem unbareable. I keep thinking that all the people before me survived the rough stuff. I can too!

Hope this wasn't too much of a downer blog. Just stuff I was thinking about on my walk today. Walking by myself makes me introspective...looking forward to breakfast with my buds in the a.m. They kick my ass and help me cheer up.

Bees

"It didn't suck" said film critic Paul Goldsmith. No, not really, but I held my breath when Paul and I watched chick flick "Secret Life of Bees" tonight. He usually makes such decrees after we watch (I insist he watch a chick flick every now and again to get in touch with his feminine side)this type of movie.

My hip book group read the book by the same name a couple years ago and we all really liked it. And everybody knows books are nearly always better than movies, because they provide so much more depth and information - stuff like plot development. In this case though, I thought the movie was well cast. Dakota Fanning played Lilly. That kid is a natural!

I always like Queen Latifa who plays Ms. August Boatwright - the matriarch of the film, and Alisha Keys as sister June. There was another sister I didn't recognize and a few no name guys in this film. The story is mainly about a young girl, Lilly, escaping her abusive father but it occurs during the age of civil rights and Martin Luther King. It is set in the south. Lilly's black housekeeper, ends up accompanying her on her trek to a town Lilly believes her dead mother once lived in.

The movie doesn't move quickly, but is never boring. Most of the white people in it are not friendly to blacks. In fact they are down right violent in two cases. It made me ponder...what would I have been like if I were in that situation?

When I was growing up, I only knew one black person, our cleaning lady, Velma Grey. I'm not sure how mom ended up with one of the only black people in Atlantic, Iowa as our cleaning lady. But we were expected to treat her the same as anyone else. I was only a child of 8 or so, but I do remember Velma eating lunch with us. I was fascinated to see that the palms of her hands were white. She was quiet and nice.

So that was how I was raised. I don't remember my parents making racist statements during the news or in discussions. They didn't tell racial jokes. Though my dad was known to embarrass me in later years by exclaiming loudly at a restaurant, "That's the daughter of the new colored family in town." Paul's father, George, who was ten years older than my dad, had never met an African-American until Paul introduced him to his boss at UPS (Paul worked there as a pre-loader in college), Herb. George was quite taken with Herb and it did open his eyes a bit. Nevertheless, he continued his derogatory racial comments regarding athletes when watching sports on TV.

It's hard to know just what I would have acted like if I had grown up in the south in the 1950's and 60's. I believe the "group-think" mentality would have been hard to shrug off. It's much like wondering what it would have been like to be a German Catholic in the Hitler era. Would I have been bold enough to help the Jews or stand up to the regime? I honestly don't know. I would like to think I would have had the guts. In today's world, I am supporting the right of homosexuals to live and love who ever they want to. And I'm not afraid to say it. To anyone.

Smash the bugs!

Left another turkey bites the dust.

I'm having a great Friday! I came home to Creston last night, home to my hubbie, pooch, kitty cat and a home-cooked meal. Roast in the crockpot - thanks Pablo! Slept in my very own bed - with all of the above (except the roast of course) nuff said about that topic...

This morning I got to walk 4ish miles bright and early with three friends. It's a gorgeous day and it got the endomorphins going good. I got caught up on their lives - I miss hanging with my homies each week. We plan on doing breakfast Monday, and perhaps, if I wake up, a walk in the a.m.

When I got home from my walk, I noticed I had a message from Paul who had left around 4:30 a.m. to go turkey hunting. Attached photo showed a nice gobbler he'd already gotten. Way to kick turkey ass! He came home a couple hours later the proud hunter, and we made plans to eat lunch at the local tavern - Elms Club. Then I booted the 'ol computer up for three hours of work.

I met Paul and our friend Steve for lunch amongst the tables of Creston peeps chatting and chewing. It's been lent for the last few weeks, so I was like "where's the beef?" Best burgers and fries in town! The staff at the Elms brings our drinks without asking - we're regulars.

After lunch I made a libary run. The drive there proved to be the only unpleasant thing about the day. As I turned the corner I watch an older woman toss gum wrappers out her window while sitting at the stop sign. If you know me then you know I had to honk at her. She waved. Biatch! Who would do that? Smash litterbugs!

The library ladies know me to, so I had to complain to them about the litterbug. There were new books by some of my fave authors - book jackpot! Then home to read on the deck for a bit before I kick into work mode again. Ahhh so far, the perfect day! I love being home!

Zapped

At left - my Grandma - we called her Momo. Her real name was Zora - cool name huh? As you can see she has a very fair complexion. Why couldn't I get my grandpa's (Wally aka, Buba)skin? He's the handsome dude with the pipe and bolo tie sitting in the rocker on the right. And my Uncle (my Dad's brother Charlie) is the Schnauzer on the floor.

This pic was taken the day I got the card saying my parents were giving me a horse for my birthday - my mom wrote it out in a little corny poem. I cried I was so happy. Note I have on my favorite Bar-L-Ranch (Guthrie Center, IA) sweatshirt with a horse on the front.

Back to my real topic...I visited my friendly dermo today for my annual skin check. I had a few spots on my face zapped by Dr. Ava Feldman with liquid nitrogen. Here's to you Lifeguard Leslie who had to try to tan with the other guards who were actually tannable. You were no bronze goddess - you nincompoop! Why did you think you could smear Baby Oil on and fry with no repercussions?

Once, in college on an early warm sunny day, my roomies and I laid out in the sun near our dorm, Maple Hall. If a little sun is good, a lot is great right? I fried so bad I couldn't even drink beer that night - my legs swelled up. Sun poisoning. And skiing both Paul (another Casper skin) and I burned so bad we blistered.

I'm paying for it now boy. I've had pre-cancerous spots removed from several areas - most recently under and beside my eye. A lesson for all of you out there in tanning bed land!

el carro

If you didn't have 2 years of Spanish from Senior Seufert at Atlantic High School as I did, you might not know that means "the car". That was the topic of the nifty Facebook survey I filled out tonight. It hit upon a topic I just talked about with someone recently.

I was telling them that my daughter Amy always names her cars. I'm not sure what she named the old Dodge pickup she first got to drive to and from school on a school permit. It had tobacco dribbled down the window. Her most recent car, a 2007 Honda Fit is named Dave.

I was fortunate to be able to purchase a new car my sophomore year of college with money my maternal grandparents left me. I originally bought a horse named Jack and a stall at a horse condominium, but sold those when I graduated. My first car was a 1977 Chevy Monza hatchback - a nice red two door four speed. Manual windows, and my former boyfriend Mike put an 8-Track player in for me. It was a good car, but pretty crappy on snow. Paul liked my car so much he ended up buying the 1979 model - white.

Right before we got married, I purchased a 1982 Chevy Lumina - silver two door, but automatic this time. It had a built in cassette player. I traded the Monza in to get it.

Then in 1984 we decided to sell Paul's car and get a Monza 626 (it was named Mitch for Mitchell County where we lived at the time - guess I know where Amy gets it...). We loved that car - it was very sporty and peppy after doggy 4 cylinders. Tight steering and suspension. And it was a four door which worked well the next year when we popped out a beautiful baby girl.

When we moved to Creston we traded the Lumina in on a Pontiac 6000 - a similar car but with four doors. We kept the Mazda and Paul used it for hunting and everything! We eventually got a lovely blue woody Chrysler Town and Country Van 1989 version to do all that car pooling. It was used and got old pretty fast so we traded it on a used 1991 Van with all the bells and whistles! Automatic everything and leather seats.

Cars can be a big part of a family. Ours have taken pretty good care of us - knock on plastic that looks like wood on dashboards! Muy Bueno.

Are you jonesin'

Below - 3 of my fave things. Kayak, Little Bar restaurant and my big sis Cindo. Above -view from our condo.

for my blog? If you are then you might need to get a life! Haha! Note: I would have said LOL, but my big sis Susi used to think LOL stood for Lots of Love. So she would email her lovely daughters (my nieces Jordan and Leslie) with bad news - such as "Grandpa is in the hospital" LOL! They couldn't figure out why she was so jovial with bad news. We've got her straightened out now.

Have you ever been ridiculed for singing the wrong words to songs? Honestly - some of those people should get the shit out of their mouths when they are singing - how are you supposed to understand them? Jud used to insist that Queen was singing "Kicking their trat all over the place". Right Jud - trat is NOT a word.

I must admit thought that I mumble through some songs that I sing along to. The real words don't always make sense anyways.

So, I've been on vacation. If you're on Facebook, then you know we had a great time. I'll post some pics this weekend. 1905 Gulfview Club in Marco Island, FL is a great place to be. In past years we stayed in Mom and Dad's unit #1211. The layout of this place was the same, and the beds were better - at least in the guest bedroom. And the view...beach and pool, what could be better?

My sis Cindy was there with us - we all get along swimingly. You'd be surprised to learn that Paul hardly even has to talk, since Cindy and I handle that chore. He reads like a maniac when he's there - hardly coming up for breath. He did surface to consume twin lobster tails - which was also the meal of choice for Cindy's 55th birthday.

Nearly every day we walked 3-4 miles on the beach. I picked up a few shells, and even walked in the Gulf one day. It was pretty crowded this year -due to Easter I guess. There were lots of foreigners on the Island - English accents, Dutch, Germans and Italians to name a few. We got to listen to them chat around the pool.

We attended the dumbest movie I've seen in a long while one afternoon when it was a bit chilly and windy. "Knowing" is the new Nicholas Cage movie. Believe me when I say - you'd rather not Know! I felt like walking out and we all agreed that it seemed like halfway thru another writer/director took over and the plot went off the rails.

I found my new favorite store in my favorite outlet mall. The Columbia Outlet. Very cool, and cheap!

Now we're home and I've worked a couple days already. Seems like I never left!

Marco 2

Above Paul, Me and Cindo in front of the Gulfview beachside, Jolley Bridge leading to Marco Island - always gives me chills - "I've arrived!" Mom's tree - planted by the circular drive by the front of the Gulfview. Mom's friends planted this in her memory. It's gotten really big.

I've got Marco on my mind. It's the night before we go and I'm excited! We're staying at Joan's place (where I live during each week) in Waukee, since she's such a sweetie. She happens to be in Diagonal, Iowa, south of Creston where her husband lives. I just talked to her - they just birthed a new baby calf.

Anyways...I like to mention a few more things about my favorite place, Marco Island, FL.

1. The Judge Jolley Bridge - never fails to give me chills when I see it the first time, kinda like seeing the mountains when traveling to Denver (except you gotta be closer to see it).

2. The Gulfview - the condo Mom and Dad bought a place in, the Gulfview became like their little community. We sold Dad's place last year (luckily just before the bottom dropped out of the real estate market - that way we could instead lose the $$ in mutual funds instead...). The Gulfview is right next to the resident's beach where there is a park and free concerts. There is a great view south from the Gulfview thanks to the Resident's beach.

3. The beach. It's the best beach I've ever been to. Great shells. From the Gulfview you can walk north to Tigertail beach, or south to the southern tip of the island, getting a good workout whichever way you go. The beach was refurbished over 10 years ago and there is plenty of sand for everyone!

4. The pool and pool area at the Gulfview are surrounded by beautiful plants/trees/flowers and there are little lizards to watch around the pool.

5. The Little Bar - which is actually in the town of Goodland, kindof a trailer park south of Marco. But what food! Mom and Dad loved Goodland and spent good times there with friends.

6. Crazy Flamingo - a yummy peel and eat shrimp place. They give ya paper towels for cleanup!

7. Joey's Pizza - New York style pizza, and they deliver Caesar salad with it too.

8. Porky's - when we get tired of sea food, we go for ribs at Joey's. They also feature karaoke and some good bands.

9. Jack's Lookout - a chicki hut set on stilts at the marina. Dad loved to take the grandkids there to see the fishing boats come in - the pelicans wait to get tidbits. Beer is cold. There is wifi here!

10. The Marina Store - it's not all that big, but I could spend a couple hours looking at the clothes, shoes and fishing supplies. I purchase a cool diagram map of the island which I had framed for home.

As you can tell, I love the place. When Cindy and I went down the summer of 2007, after Dad died and we were ready to put the place on the market, we spent a week cleaning out the condo. Patti, the cleaning lady made out like a bandit - we gave lots of stuff to her. Mom always liked her lots. The last day there, I wanted to hold that memory so tight - because I wasn't sure I'd ever be there again. So I feel lucky to get to go once again!

Squelch

Turn it up! Remember the day of the CB radio craze? That's a Big 10-4 good buddy! My Dad had one for all his travels - he was, of course - "Bullfrog".

I'll never forget the time (insert flashback music), Betsy and I were with Mom and Dad coming home from Colorado - I think we had been out there for Thanksgiving. I was around 15 so that would make Betso-bean around 12 (okay more like 10 or 11 but who's counting..). Dad started talking to some trucker back and forth. And that guy "Colorado Sunflower" thought he'd found his new best friend! Finally Dad said "I've got 2 hungry little girls, and we're going to pull off to get some food," thinking that was the end of it.

But no! CO Sunflower said, "I've got little girls too!" But Dad signed off and we thought that was the end of it. But NO! As we were eating our lunch, the hillbilly looking guy with 2 teeth came in with his ratty wife and snotty nosed kids. (I know, and I just took a diversity training course too - but keep in mind I was only 15 years old, so that's my recollection). He walked up to our table and said "Bullfrog?" Dad made up something and got rid of him - none too soon for my 15 year old sense of embarrassment!

CB radios often just spewed out static. In that case we'd yell "squelch it please!" That turned down what you heard.

I've decided that as I've aged, my squelch control has loosened up each year. I'm so full of knowledge and experience I can hardly keep quiet! So that has been my Lenten goal - to turn my squelch back up and be a better listener! I must admit I've not always been successful. Too many years of blurting I guess. But I've done better. Even with the end of Lent near, I plan to continue striving for better listening skills!

Wish me luck!

Marco Island Paradise

Left - visiting Pops and Grandma, Dunedin, FL Above - view at the Gulfview, my fave place.

I'm going away for a week starting Sunday. So I won't be writing for a week or so. I hope you all survive the brief interlude in my prolific posting. Ya see, I'm enjoying this blogging thing. It's like that old diary I had back in Junior High, and you all (all 5 of you) don't even have to use your fingernail files to pick the lock!

Dear Diary, I'm going to Marco Island, Florida to my favorite place in the whole world. Back when Dave Bullfrog, my dad was fixing to retire from his job selling Lorraine Lingerie, my folks began exploring places to live in the winter. They visited friends in Arizona, and thought that it was nice and warm. But Mom wanted the ocean.

When I was around 10, we drove to Florida (Mom, my 3 sisters and me) to visit my grandparents (Mom's parents - Pops and Gramma) who retired to an old folks community in Dunedin, Florida. We stayed in St. Petersburg at Reddington Beach. It was a grand time! In the photo above, which features all of us visiting my grandparents at their apartment, notice that my bird finger is taped up - that's due to slicing it wide open on a metal shovel that went with a little metal pail for the beach. It hurt! My Dad's parents went to St. Petersburg each winter too. They loved it so.

So, Mom knew she wanted a place on the beach. They came upon Marco Island - a small island south of Naples. They began by leasing a condo in the Gulfview building for a month and found they liked it. Once dad fully retired they started staying longer. Then in 1987 they bought a unit in the building. They made great friends with other folks who stayed there for the season. Eventually they lived there 6 months a year.

I've been many times since then. And the only person who loves Marco more than I do (now that Mom and Dad are gone) is my sister Cindy Lefebvre (pronounced Lefave). She'll be there next week with Pablo the Pool boy (my beloved spouse) and me. Part of the reason we like to be there is because it reminds us of our folks. So many memories of each of them there. There are still a few of their group of friends around the place.

We have a routine. A.M. power walk, pool or beach - rotating between the two with book/magazine. A little lunch, then back for more. Shower, and then out to one of our favorite restaurants - the very best is Little Bar, which serves excellent Cheesy Grouper (according to Cindy) and blackened shrimp. Yum.

I am soooo looking forward to being at my home away from home.

Like a Virgin

Or pedicure virgin no more. I did it...broke down and got a pedicure. I'd never done it before. Oh I'd had fantasies about it and I'd been pondering getting one before going to Florida next week. I usually do my own self, but not very well. (oooh that's pretty wicked and naughty)

The oriental woman, who did my pedicure gave good foot. And she was very patient since I was a shaky unsure virgin - not knowing where to put my body parts when. She didn't speak very good English, but we communicated well enough to get the job done.

To start with I put my feet in a foot bath to soak a bit. Then she trimmed my already short nails a bit. Next she pumiced my feet and massaged lotion into my firm white lower legs. I did nearly moan with pleasure, but bit my lip to stifle myself! It made me want a full massage.

Next she whipped out these foamy sandals and toe separators and applied clear polish and then the polish I had selected. Once she was through with those steps she looked up at me as if to say "you're done". So I said "I'm done?" and she said "No you fucking idiot nail polish virgin, you have to put them under the dryer". Not really, but I'm sure she wanted to!

So I dried them and she took my credit card to ring me up. It wasn't like a restaurant where you can add the tip on, so unsure of the rules for this type of thing, I dug out a few bucks to tip her. The lights on the foot thing went off, so I began to roll down my pants and put my socks on and she said "push this button and do one more time!" Again I felt dumb, but did as I was told.

Oh, I hope I don't feel sorry I did it tomorrow....like a slut who just couldn't keep my toes in my socks! Between the chiro this week and now the pedicure, I am taking large steps out of my comfort zone. I am pleased with myself, but not smug. And I don't feel a bikini wax is in my near future though!