Some things I learned over the weekend.
♥ When the ER doc is really really really concerned and orders you to go to a big city hospital, do not pass go do not collect $200, you do it.
♥ Only you do pass go, stop at home to collect a change of clothes, some knitting, your kindle, and meds because who knows how long you’ll be away. You also call and beg your neighbor to take care of your animals.
♥ Driving to a big city at 3am is easy…no traffic.
♥ Big city hospitals are BIG. And they have to pay for all that space somehow. So they charge $10 to park in a parking garage very far from the ER entrance.
♥ Trying to park in a city parking garage at 3 am is easy. No one is at the ER, so you get the closest space.
♥ The only way to get into the ER is through a metal detector, and 4 policemen. They will search through your purse and question you as to why you have 3 .22 bullets in your purse. They will also ask you if you have anything sharp or pointy in your bags. When you respond knitting needles, they will then proceed to DIG to the very bottom of your knitting bag, sift through your underwear, etc to find them. Your welcome. Because we all know that fat girl granny panties is exactly what does it for 26 year old cops working the graveyard.
♥ Around hour 17 of your 48 hour protection deodorant things get a little dicey, and by hour 19 things are down right whiffy. False advertising UNILEVER.
♥ When you haven’t slept or bathed in over 24 hours, you begin to look like a cast member of The Walking Dead.
♥ When you’ve been awake for 30+ hours, the cold hard floor of an ER room is a lot more comfortable than you think.
♥ When your room is smack dab next to the trauma bay, you hear all manner of things you wish you hadn’t.
♥ Lastly, animals become antsy when humans are gone from home so long. Messes are made to tell you they disapprove.
Moral of the story, when you think your going to be gone longer than 12 hours, be sure to slip some deodorant into your purse.
~~~I love lasagna. Especially the way Superman makes it. He hasn’t made it in years. Generally when he makes it, he uses almost every pot, pan, spoon, bowl and dish we have then expects me to clean it up.
Fugetaboutit! That is just not part of the lazy life style I have come to enjoy, but the cravings…they wouldn’t go away. I’ve been wracking my brain for something that meets all the pasta/meet/sauce/cheese requirements that leaves me with little to no clean up. Meat filled ravioli. Bingo. So, I made “lasagna” last night replacing the noodles and meat with that. It took me all of 5 minutes to get it all in the dish…and the second best thing of all……there was noooo cleanup. Muahahahahaha. The best thing was that it tasted just like lasagna. The brilliant award goes to me!
~~ I put Vaseline on my feet every morning in the winter. I heart Vaseline. So does my dry feet. So does my cat Sebastian. He is weird.
~~ Superman’s car is in the shop. Which means that not only did I shuttle the girl around all weekend, but Superman too. I’m going to invest in a taxi meter.
~~ Even though everyone and their brother is sick unto death of the snow, I’m rather enjoying driving in it. Mainly so I can park my car. The city plowed my car in. Then the neighbor man with his little plow on the front of his 3-wheeler shoveled even more snow all around. Superman had to push me through the first time, but now there is a wee path that I can drive on. Sooooo fun. And when I park at night, the little path that I have made is not always visible so I slide into my spot like a stunt car driver. Takes me back to when I used to go mudding in Missouri.
~~ I have a new favorite cereal. Frosted flakes. Superman told me you are what you eat, so he gets pork butt for supper tonight.
Hello Monday. Even after I’ve banned you from the calendar, you continue continue to show up. Take the hint. Your not wanted!
I have a new cat. His name is Sebastian, and he is one ugly cat. Tried to get a picture of the boy, but he just won’t sit still.
The girl brought him over 2 months ago. He was cold, dirty and flea infested. She and her sad puppy dog eyes begged me to take him in. I said no. I didn’t want fleas in the house, but I relented insofar as I put a can of cat food outside for him to eat.
His mewing was pitiful. Stab you in the heart pitiful.
So the next day I brought him in. Contrary to popular opinion I’m not heartless. Superman tells me I’m a marshmallow filled with marshmallow fluff.
He promptly got a flea bath and was quarantined in his own room for over a month till the fleas died.
There in that quarantined room I fell in love with the bugger.
He now has taken over the house. The oldest cat puts up with him because he makes her put up with him. The middle cat is bigger than he is and she whomps him all the time.
In other news….well…there isn’t really any other news. Life is slow and boring here at the house of chocolate. Until Sebastian decides to play ‘tackle the other cats at CC’s feet’. Both my legs bare the marks of said “fun”.
A long time ago, about 21 years to be exact, I had this marvelous coat. It was hunter green. It was fleece. It was perfect. The pockets were perfect. The fit was perfect. The amount of warmth it provided was perfect. I loved that coat.
One day I noticed that the pocket was torn, so I sewed it up. Superman saw me doing that and suggested it was time to get a new coat. I protested…mightily. Through sheer will I made that coat last another 2 years. Superman still had no idea how many times I sewed up various parts of that coat when he wasn’t around. Finally he made me throw it away…under MUCH weeping and gnashing of teeth. I still remind him of that coat from time to time…but I’m not bitter.
Over the years I have had other beloved items. Particularly sweaters. The one I’m wearing right now is one of them. It used to be a lovely rose color. Now it is a …uh…dusty faded pink, and has some slight bleach spots on the arms, but it fits perfect. The pockets are perfect. The amount of warmth it provides is perfect. Suuuurrre it is pilly in some places and snagged in many others, but it still is perfect.
3 days ago the girl pointed out that I have a hole in the back of it. Fortunately Superman doesn’t know yet. He doesn’t know that I’ve already sewed up one of the pockets, and today….today I’m sewing up that hole. I can make this one last AT LEAST another 2 years before he gets a hold of it.
Just so you know, next Monday I’ll be much happier because I will have acquired one more hour of sleep, thank you daylight savings time.
Saturday Superman and I were discussing the fact that he hasn’t had any tickets/wrecks in quite some time, and I had to brag that I hadn’t been on the receiving end of a ticket since about 14 years ago…pat myself on the back.
Sunday I was driving up to the parents. I was blasting some Carrie Underwood and singing at the top of my lungs because Carrie Underwood is great to belt songs with. Had I a hair brush that would have been my microphone. I saw some flashing lights in my rear view. Didn’t even cross my mind that they were for me…until they didn’t stop. oopsie
Well, Mr. Babyface Officer said I was doing 43 in a 25. I think Mr. Babyface just wanted to see me smile, because his radar HAD to be miscalibrated. I don’t drive fast. Mr. Babyface, don’t hand people $90 tickets and then tell them to have a nice day. Your words are futile.
The word just inspires peace.
Want to see some more peace?
This is the view outside our room. Actually I was standing inside our room to take the picture.
This crane has been here since we have. It is so funny to watch.
This is where we are staying. Our room is 3rd from the left side.
You are allowed to drive on the beach. It is the coolest thing EVER. Except for the view, and the jacuzzi tub, and the everything else.