Author: Kathleen Fisher

Mallie Bee and I were discussing Tuesdays.  Worse than Mondays for both of us.  Here’s a little jump start to that day that vexes us every week.  I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and doggone it, when I grow up I want to be like this kid…………

The first time my mom went to my dad’s house she thought his family was rich because their house was so nice.  Not even close.  My grandpa was a mechanic for the city bus line.   My dad used to say that my mom’s mom could make a ten course meal at the drop of her hat.  Not so, but she was able to pull things out of her fridge and put them in little serving dishes so that lunchtime looked like a tapas restaurant.

I have no idea how financially secure either one of them were but like most women of their generation, they had the ability to make something out of nothing.  A long time ago, that virtue was tossed aside so we could dive headfirst into consumption which doesn’t seem to be giving anybody great results.

I keep pictures of both of my grandmas close by.  Like one, I love to decorate.  Like the other, I can make something little look like something big.  They left this earth many years ago but their spirits remain nearby, teaching me that making do has always been about making a life.

I stumbled on this and thought it was worth sharing.  Three minutes to change your perspective on everything…………

I’m not saying I bought one of these at full price but I may have seen it deeply discounted at CVS awhile ago and it might have fallen into my cart.  Dr. Oz stated on his show yesterday that this product, without question, does not work to make your neck slimmer.  I can neither confirm or deny this but I am often mistaken for someone much, much younger (like 53 instead of 54).

dieter f uchtdorf

Spring has made an appearance and with that, our annual cleaning of the garage.  Annual is exaggerating.  We clean it when you can’t set foot in there.  I’m a clean freak.  Big Daddy….not so much.  He thinks this is a big waste of time but he’s close to the season when he’s gonna want to bike every stinkin’ weekend and pretend he’s a jock with his middle-aging friends.  That makes it necessary for him to put deposits in the chore account so he can wave sayonara without a speck of quilt.  And I do mean Without A Speck.

BD said first thing we had to do was empty the garage.  This took awhile.  With the weather being nice, every neighbor was out which meant they had to stop by and say, “Cleaning the garage, huh?  Wow, that’s a lot of stuff.”  This was true but you don’t see us standing in their driveway saying, “Hey, how come you still have your Christmas lights up and dead plants in the window box?”  O.k. skip that last part since we may have a dead plant or two or dozen in various pots around the plantation.  When that parade of smart asses throwing turds at our pile of shit in the driveway moved on, the drive-bys in search of a garage sale started.  C’mon,, people, move along……nothing to see here, no dead bodies, just dead crap.

Next we started sweeping up dirt, leaves and a significant amount of rodent droppings.  BD said no worries, honey, they’re long gone but I took precautions anyhow (like YELLING into dark corners to let Micky and Minnie know that I was in da howse).   We loaded a few bags of garbage and more bags of donations.  How many sleds does a family need when one kid has moved out, one is away at school and one is too busy to even think about it?  Not five.  We found a stuffed bear (what???), clay pots up the wazzoo, a screen to some window of which we don’t know and a necklace I’ve been looking for (what??? x 2).

We patted ourselves on the back for getting it done and had a couple of beers to celebrate not being slobs anymore.  We’re reformed garage hoarders and there wasn’t so much as a chicken, rabbit or dead cat residing in there.  Pat ourselves, indeed, but it’s best you not look in our basement just yet.  All in due time.   (Tick tock, BD, tick tock.)

You may remember an earlier post regarding my issue with squirrels.  The story below was recently in the news.   Let’s not be deterred by PETA wingnuts or local gun laws banning automatic assault rifles.  This is war.  Read on:

The small gray squirrel in Bennington, Vt., has broken the peace that existed between humans and the small woodland creatures. In separate incidents, the pugnacious rodent has bitten and scratched neighbors without provocation, local station Fox 23 reported.

McDonald was shoveling snow outside his home when the sneak attack began. “He was holding on. He wouldn’t let go. I was finally able to get him off, and as soon as I got him off, he just jumped right at me again.”   The feisty critter inflicted several scratches on McDonald last week.

A small woodland creature?  Ummm…that’s Thumper and his little friends in Bambi.  These are thugs dangling from bird feeders like they own ’em and then fornicating in the front yard.  That’s what we in the Heartland call a Yard Terrorist.

Happy spring Fur Face (FYI…..this is not for the lady working in the drive-up at the Burger King who needs to be introduced to Sally Hansen Wax Strips), your days are seriously numbered.  Yeah, I’m talking to you.

I’m not sure and never really have been from the get-go, where I intended to go with this blog.  Ideally, a syndicated column or a book deal (with a really big advance like Danielle Steele gets so we can get a new paint job on the McMansion) but that’s pie in the sky kind of thinking.  I’m just gonna keep plugging away and we shall see where the wind decides to blow.  But…….TODAY I TOPPED A THOUSAND HITS!!!  Why am I shouting?  Cuz that’s about 999 more times that somebody read what I wrote in the last two months than before.  A biggety deal to me.  Thank you, thank you, thank you (with a mucho gracias and merci beaucoup to my followers in South America and France….I kid, I kid) for taking time to stop by and read my ramblings.  I’m doing the happy dance and dreaming about all things pie.

Last nite, my friend and I were talking about the disaster in Japan.  She said, “Did you notice that there’s no looting?”  I had and that people are standing in line for hours on end to find the basic supplies to live and nobody seems to be losing their temper.  Quite a difference from what we’ve seen in other places, especially our own country.

When I came home, my husband was watching the news with American journalists reporting on the crisis at the nuclear plant and what would happen if that occurred here.  Could our nuclear power plants stand up to an earthquake?  What are our safety precautions?  Would high winds near the plant in Japan cause an increase in radiation levels in this country?  California stores are selling out of iodine tablets for that very reason. 

I’ve watched footage of the tsunami over and over.  In one video, there’s a little white car speeding along a distant road and as you’re watching this wall of water move, you know that the people inside won’t make it.  Each time, my heart races for that car and its occupants.

I live in a place known for tornadoes.  If you’re on the coasts it could be hurricanes.  Out west it’s wildfires.  None of us are immune from the wrath of Mother Nature but the people of Japan have been hit so hard with such devastating impact that it is impossible to imagine.  

Maybe our news stories should stay focused on the country in crisis and not our own.  Maybe we should sacrifice our iodine tablets for people we will never meet.  Maybe we’ve seen with our own eyes that Japan is a country full of little white cars in trouble, stoically trying to get to higher ground.