The Good, The Bad, The Worse

Obviously, this is part of the "good" list.

Watching the fish swim in the pond, having a margarita with a chunk of sugar cane. Yeah, that works!























That time of day when the sun turns this rose into a magical thing. That works too.













The stately "Now you're talking" Queen Anne Victorian about two blocks away from our house.

Isn't she a stunner? I want to go and visit there but I don't know the people.









Pretty women doing work and looking good while doing it!





























Okay, here's the "bad" list.



If you are going to wear a cute black dress, do not have your somewhat dingy white bra showing under it. This is a totally stupid look. And it's really too bad because she is another gorgeous Asian girl.










And for the worse! We have a winner!

Alex, do not for one moment think you are taking that yucky ugly nasty Mexican food home with you so you can have it for lunch tomorrow.

That has to be the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. It's just gross. Leave it right there on the table Alex. You are not eating food that looks like that! What are you thinking???

I would not feed my dogs something that looks like this. I wouldn't feed my squirrels something that looks like this. I wouldn't even feed my roof rats something that looks like this!

Permaneta

This is the beautiful and classic Permaneta.

She was given to me by Richard Knight, the artist who created her, several years ago right about the time he was diagnosed with cancer.

Richard died two years ago. He was a dear friend and I miss him to this day. I met Richard through his wife Judith who interviewed us for an article she was writing. Our house was one of the homes featured on the historical homes tour that year, and Judith is a teacher, historian and a curator at the local Museum.

Upon Richard's death, Judith very generously gifted us with a number of his pieces, including some models, another steel sculpture, and some wonderful etchings, including one he did of our home.

Richard was an amazing man in a lot of ways. I met him when he was in his late 70's and he was one of the most vibrant, kind, and amusing people I have ever known. Judith was in her 40's and they had been "living in sin" as they liked to say for 25 years. They did legally marry about two years before Richard died, but I think they both liked the bohemian idea of just living together.

When Judith and Richard were at a formal party on a very hot afternoon, Richard stripped off his clothing and jumped naked in the pool. It was a sensible thing to do, but fairly unexpected with about 50 people around. I loved that about him!

Richard wore the grizzled pony tail, and a full beard and an Indiana Jones hat. And he tried to find me opium when I told him I would like to smoke it once before I die! Richard was open minded and extremely liberal as were almost all of their friends. He got such a kick out of Alex showing up for a party at their house dressed in his BDU's looking like GI Joe.

(Alex came by the party on his way home from a Reserve's weekend. He didn't wear the uniform as a costume, although sometimes I wish he would. I wear my nurse costume for him when he's good.)

I'm so lucky to have these wonderful reminders of my friend Richard.

Pricks and Reprieves

I have this butt ugly cactus plant in my yard.

It is full of spiders and weeds. It has a long tubular thing that put one in mind of particularly large male appendages, but green and full of sharp spikes. That's not a bad thing, (for any of you who may think I'm being insulting to male appendages) but I'm just saying.

I have tried to pluck the weeds out of this plant for 10 years now. And more than once I've thought of tossing the whole thing in the green recycle can. I can't really get all of the weeds out, plus the damn thing pricks me for my efforts to clean it up a bit.

Just about the time I am really ready to send this cactus plant to its great reward in recycle heaven, something amazing happens.

The most delicate pink flower every appears almost as if by magic. It is so beautiful it takes my breath away.

And I think, how on earth could something so ugly produce something so beautiful?

I kind of think maybe this cactus has more intelligence than I give it credit for. It seems to know when I am really seriously thinking of tossing it, and does something desperate to save its own life.

Now I realize that this cactus is really creeping me out. Every time I try to clean it up, it bites me. But when I decide to throw it away, it blooms for me.

Coincidence? I don't think so. I do have it next to the alien sculpture thing so they may have been communicating for some time.

The Invalid Wife

If I ever become an invalid wife, this is where I will spend my time. It's not a big room, but it's surprisingly cheerful and comfortable.

I will need servants to take care of me because my husband might let me starve before he realized I hadn't eaten for a month.

It's not that he doesn't love me; in his own way, I'm sure he does. Still, I would be better off with somebody else feeding me.

I have a bad back and when it goes out, I can't walk for a few days. It comes and goes, and has for the last 20 years. That is about the worst thing that can happen the way I see it. Alex takes to lying next to me and napping the whole time I'm out of commission. He leaves my side long enough to fix himself something to eat, but then he comes back. In fairness to my husband, after 2 or 3 days, he will ask me "Are you sure you aren't hungry?"

Our bedroom is upstairs. It's really almost like sleeping in a tree house. The bedroom is long and has dormer windows on either side. It's a great bedroom, but when I have back spasms, I can't make it up or down the stairs. Plus, this little downstairs bedroom has a bath right attached (handy for if I have to crawl there).

When I was a girl, I read a lot of gothic romance novels. There was frequently an invalid wife, married to the lord of the manor. He went off to do whatever lords of the manor do every day. The invalid wife would have delicious meals brought to her on a tray with a beautiful rose in a silver vase by servants.

After her meal, another servant would come in to freshen her up for the day. The servant would brush her long golden tresses, and bathe her and put her into a fresh linen gown, with lace trim.

She would just lie there and read books and toss fretfully. It sounded damned good to me. For about 15 minutes in the afternoon (after lessons with the governess), the beautiful, quiet, well formed and immaculate children would come in to tell the invalid wife how much they loved her, before being whisked out by the governess so as not to tire Mama out too badly.

Now, keep in mind that the handsome husband, (lord of the manor guy) is probably knocking boots with the 20-something governess by now. Whatever. That part never bothered me too much. After all, he wasn't going to marry a governess, now was he?

Meanwhile, hubby would come home and kiss his wife's pale hands (wait, maybe I should say sun darkened hands so I can still be Mexican) and ask her how she was feeling. She would give him a tired but lovely and brave smile and say "Oh better, Darling!"

About that time, servants would arrive with more food for her, and he would go off to boink the governess or whatever he did in the evening.

My form of being an invalid wife would not be exactly the same as this story. First of all, I have no servants. The best I could do is order a pizza for delivery and gobble it down in bed if somebody (the pizza delivery boy?) would bring it in to me. Secondly, I would probably have one or more dogs on the bed with me. And thirdly, where the hell is my gin and tonic?

You're Never Too Young

This is Abigail Rose. She is six.

Abbey loves to golf. And she loves eccentric clothes. Her mother encourages the golf, but it's Grandma Linda who assists with the clothing.

I think her little outfit just screams "Biker Chic" and it works for her. I'm just sorry I couldn't find any black flip flops with sequins to go with the outfit.

I've also gotten her an ankle length velvet cape with faux fur around the bottom, and about 12 pairs of plastic high heel shoes. Abbey loves them!

When Abbey's older sister, Hannah Rose was younger, I took her shopping for clothes for her birthday. We also had lunch. After buying Hannah several outfits including a lime green dress, we went to Bloomies to find her some shoes. In particular, I wanted some shoes for that lime green dress.

We found a pair that were the perfect shade of lime green, and the only problem was that they had 3 inch heels. Hannah was delighted and I was too. (Of course, I have 6 grandchildren so it's hard to keep up with ages, birthdays, etc.) My son and his wife have four kids, including Abbey and Hannah. After we were home, Hannah hurried to try on the green dress and shoes. She looked splendid!

I wondered aloud if her mother would be unhappy over the heels. Hannah responded that her Mom might think they were too old for her. What? At 11 years old, I had heels. Hannah responded, "Yeah, but I'm only 9". Whatever. How on earth am I supposed to remember how old everybody is!

Of course, now the tradition has been established so in January, Emma Rose turned 14, so it was time to take her to lunch and for a shopping spree. Now, maybe some of you think that strapless red dresses are too much for a 14 year old. I don't agree. In fact, they probably look better on a 14 year old than they do on a 40 year old. And each of these gorgeous females would look equally gorgeous in burlap sacks, but that isn't going to happen if I have anything to say about it!

My grandson Aidan is not nearly as complicated. At 8 years old, he is all about the toys. Clothes, unless it is a baseball hat or jersey. are a total waste on him.

Since my son and his wife consider me a tad eccentric, they let me dress these girls how I like as long as I get them sensible shoes sometimes. I'm all about the sensible shoes! Here are Hannah and Emma with G'Ma several years ago! This was before I got my hands on them to go shopping!

Thou Shall Not Covet Thy Neighbors Yard

Now my backyard is fine, don't get me wrong, but when the woman next door has this going on out back, what are you going to do?

I do have to say that she has artificial turf but frankly, it looks damned good. I was actually hoping it would not be as fab as it is.

Now to make things even worse, I have two dogs, but she has three dogs. Uh huh. Three dogs and a backyard that looks like it was professionally landscaped, (which it was by the way).

Still, I hate myself for being jealous. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. Here is a photo of the front of this house. It is picture perfect too.












And if this wasn't bad enough, my neighbor to the other side, is a house that is amazing on its own, but also has a backyard to die for. This one has a darling little play house that is very similar to the original house. Hell, the playhouse looks to be in better shape than my house!

This garden has every flower known to man, and is without weeds. Excuse me? Now how in the hell do you have no weeds? I'm frankly considering planting weeds and letting the real plants sneak in. Maybe I'd have more luck if I did it that way. Look how green that real lawn is! And a hammock! Is that sweet or what?

Here is the front of the house. Can I get a break please? Both of these houses have been freshly painted in the last couple of years. They have no weeds. Their grass is green. Oh I know they always say the grass is greener, but in this case it's totally true!

I just don't think it's fair. And yes, I'm green with envy. But I'm not envious enough to go out there and pull weeds or work on the yard. That would probably help, but I don't feel like it. Either it's too hot and I can't do it, or it's too cold and I don't want to do it.

I do have some roses that are blooming. Just don't look at the lawn. I'm not even sure it's lawn anymore anyway, it may just be short weeds.

I tried to talk Alex into letting me contact the "sex worker" dominatrix gal to see if she could help me find a guy who wants to be punished for about a week. I would be so glad to get the weeds pulled, I wouldn't even charge him for the abuse. And you thought the hooker with the heart of gold was just a myth! Hah!