I ANSWERED MY OWN QUESTION.

 Hubby and I were watching our local news at noon. They frequently invite a guest to cook up something and share the recipe with the viewers. 

Hubby starts wondering out loud why they always show these folks cooking in fancy kitchens with granite countertops, 6 burner gas stoves and a giant industrial style stainless steel refrigerator? They never show anyone in a worn out mobile home kitchen like ours. We have the faux wooden countertops, an electric stove with only two burners that function properly and an old double door fridge. The fridge has developed some rust spots so I'm slowly covering the entire outside with free stickers. It's cheaper than one of those fancy "skins". Our fridge actually has an ice maker but you have to prop up the on/off thingy with a fork. If you forget you'll end up with freezer shelves and their contents buried in ice.

Sorry, I wobbled off the cooking path. By the time I got to this point I understood why there are no cooking demonstrations broadcast from a 1984 Fleetwood!

I CAN'T UNDERSTAND THE NEW WEATHER JARGON!

We've been watching the weather channel quite a bit lately due to the typical sketchy summer weather. As we're watching I'm thinking "what the hell are they talking about"? What happened to the good old days of simple forecasts. Forecasts that everyone can understand?

I don't need to know how or why the weather formed. I don't need to know the fancy meteorological terms for the different types of weather. I don't give a rats ass about Derechos, Weather Bombs, Atmospheric Rivers, Polar Vortex, Upper Level Lows or the Convection Coefficient!?

Just tell me what's coming in a language I can understand. Rain, snow, hail, tornado, wind, thunderstorms, locusts and so on. Don't spend an hour explaining why the killer hurricane is stalking me. Who cares? Just tell me what weather to expect and I'll plan for it. 

                                                                     

COVID CONTEMPLATIONS

I was thinking about all of the jokes, especially memes, poking fun at the Covid-19 virus and all it encompasses. I sometimes worry that people will be offended or hurt because they've either lost someone, is a survivor, lost a job or has been impacted in some other form as a result of the virus. Then I thought, how would it be possible to find humor in any serious situation without affecting someone somewhere? Any subject at all! If you joke about a pillow, someone might have had a friend or loved one that was suffocated by one.


Joke about a crappy car you had as a teen and they know someone that was killed in that very year and model.

Joke about flowers and that was their dead parents favorite!!
It doesn't matter what the subject is, someone is always going to be affected in a negative way. Without a sense of humor we'll never survive every day life and all it entails, so get over it.

Covid-19 and How It Has Sort of Affected Our Lives

We are in the midst of the Covid-19 pandemic. Obviously it has disrupted the lives of millions of people. This subject came up on a FB page. Not so much disruption with me, my husband and our adult son. We are both retired, couch potato slugs. Our adult son is Autistic so he doesn't have a clue as to the current situation other than he doesn't get to go inside the store with us right now. 
So far the only behavior out of the ordinary for us has been the masks and gloves. We have always used hand sanitizer. We keep it at home and in all of our vehicles. This was nothing new. 

We did have an experience recently that brought home the issue of Covid. Our van broke down. We had to call for a tow truck. When the driver finally arrived he said he couldn't take us home in his truck. COVID prevention. All the while he's talking to us with a mask over his furry beard!! I'm sure there was a secure seal there. He finally relented, hubby rode in the van. Our son and I masked up and mashed ourselves together as far away from the driver as possible. Heads turned...no talking. 

I don't mind the "social distancing", the masks, gloves etc...etc. I do mind the constant pounding of information into our heads through local and national news. It reminds me of the Vietnam War years. Every single day we'd get reports of the dead, wounded and missing in action. Just run a crawler and give us news about other stuff going on! There HAS TO BE other stuff going on for gawd sake! In fact I know there is other stuff going on. The Weather Channel app has actual videos proving it. Until we start seeing something other than Covid shit I'll DVR the local news, fast forward to the weather and be done with it.  
                                                             

This is our son. I worry for him more than anyone because he is so innocent.  

COMMUNITY WELL, GARDEN TUB AND WEAK TEA!

As I was in the "big bathroom" scrubbing the sink, the toilet and the stupid ass garden tub I started thinking about WHY DID THEY PUT GARDEN TUBS IN TRAILERS? We're living in a trailer!! I'm assuming this was supposed to be some kind of perk if you bought a particular model? Who is going to see this besides the buyer? Will they invite friends and family in to view it. 
I can imagine it now. You invite your closest family and friends. You know what they are thinking...'meh...just a trailer. Big deal'. But then you show them the GARDEN TUB!! OOOOO...AWWWWW!! It's no longer just a trailer it's now a MOBILE HOME!! I hate this garden tub even if it at one time it would have been the envy of family, friends or the whole damn trailerhood.

It's to big. Cleaning it requires actually climbing inside. I've tried leaning over the edge but not only is my arm to short to apply a good pressure on the sponge, laying on the edge tends to cut off the circulation to my legs! Could stand to loose a few pounds but that's neither here nor there because that wouldn't make my arms any longer. 

We get our water from a community well. About 75% of the time (I'm being generous) the water resembles weak tea!! One can imagine what this does to tubs, showers, washing machines...LAUNDRY!! If you can't imagine it then picture this. One day you scrub everything until it shines. Lovely, sparkling make you sigh kind of clean. Two days later the toilets are brown, the tub is brown and when you pull out your white load from the washer it looks like someone dyed them all some shitty beige color! 

That's it. Just needed to get that off my chest.  

I'M BAAAAAAACK!!

I got a glimpse this morning of a program on HGTV regarding building dream homes, renovating homes for people in need (really?)etc...etc. The topic made me think about the fact that unless I win the lottery one day, I'll be living in this mobile home for the rest of my life.

Why isn't there MHGTV? Mobile Home & Garden TV? Why is it that we never see a swarm of HGTV celebs putting in landscaping for some old couple in a mobile home or renovating another one for a family living in one because it's all they can afford?

I understand there's a stigma that comes along with living in a mobile home but it's really not fair. I've seen plenty of stick built homes turned into piles of shit because no one cares for one reason or another. 

There are some of us out there that actually sort of care about our mobile homes. We've invested a small fortune in metallic tape, Gorilla tape, duct tape and zip ties to keep this place together. We do our own plumbing, paint our roof when rusting starts to appear and make sure the windows holding the a/c units are sealed with plastic sheeting so rain can't pour in and rot the walls. We also keep the leaves out of what's left of the cheap ass rain gutters. 

I digress. Sorry. Anyway, imagine how many mobile homes could be renovated for the price of building one new "dream home"? So in short, people shouldn't judge others because they live in a mobile home. They simply can't afford to buy a stick built or even a new mobile. Housing costs are ridiculous so you take what shelter you can afford. We are fortunate. Our MH is paid for along with the land it sits on. No mortgage buys a lot of life preserving resuscitation tools for this old Home Sweet Mobile Home.

The Post Formerly Known as "Draft"

Not sure why it takes so long for me to come up with anything remotely interesting for this blog. I guess I have to face the fact that I am not meant to be a "blogger". I sometimes wish I could be more prolific at blogging, but after thinking it over a minute or two I change my mind.

I started this thing with such gusto then life steps in and screws up the momentum and the thought processes which were slim to none to begin with.

Since the last time I was here there's been a birth, a stolen car, a new dog, a couple of health scares, a retirement and a vow to stop celebrating Christmas.

I owe this visit to a dear friend. We lost touch for a bit but recently reconnected on the dreaded FaceBook. She mentioned her blog and it reminded me that I had one tucked away somewhere covered in dust, cobwebs and sad attempts at interesting blog fodder. I hope she's happy!!

Wet Suit Abuse

It’s time for hubby to consider some hearing assistance. We had turned off the volume to the tv in order to listen to some interesting stuff coming across the police scanner.

After capturing a bad guy one of the deputies called in for more info on him. He had a lengthy history of law breaking ways including drugs, assault on a law enforcement officer and “intimidating a wetsuit”. What? Hubby asks me “did they say intimidating a wet suit”? Of course all I can do is burst out laughing but finally compose myself long enough to tell him they said “intimidating a witness”. Good grief.     

A POX ON THEE AUTISM!!

First let me start off by announcing "AUTISM SUCKS". For my son it's akin to having a terminal, terminal disease. There is no cure. I don't care how many people claim that diet, strict routines, behavioral modification and other questionable methods "cure" Autism because they don't. I have yet to see Breaking News about the discovery of a cure for Autism and until I do my son will not be a guinea pig for snake oil salesmen/women.

I have to admit though that in recent weeks I have resorted to searching for better vitamins, and chewable protein and probiotic pills. He is also being given very low doses of Melatonin in hopes of helping him sleep more comfortably. 

This is a non-verbal 20 year old young man and every time I have to shave him, brush his teeth, bathe him, change his disposable undies, change the soiled bedding or beg him to please try using the computer..I cry. I can't talk to strangers on the phone or in person about our son without choking up so bad that all I can do is make a few croaking sounds. He never sees this. My husband only sees this if he starts saying things like "aw, poor fella" about our son.

HOLY SHIT!!

Why is there a need for such a critter? Hubby was in his shack....er...workshop looking for twine to string off our above-ground pool when he noticed this thing next to his head! What the hell? We had to run a few errands and left the monster in a plastic container in the kitchen. I warned hubby that when we got home and I discover that the lid has been removed....he was in BIG trouble. Thankfully the spider was still imprisoned in his bubble gum container. After allowing it to pose for a few good pictures we released it in our neighbors yard!

Before you get all teary eyed over our kind hearts for releasing it....think again. Neither one of us had the nerve to kill it! Not because we didn't want to, we were afraid it would fight back! We chose to unleash it on the neighbors. 

I Said "EDGE" Not EGGS"!

One night while watching tv, a commercial comes on featuring the band U2. Personally I didn't realize they were still together but then I keep my pills in daily dispensers so there ya go.

Anyway, hubby asked if I was sure it was U2. I said "yes, because I see Edge" To that he says.."EGGS"!?!? Oh good grief. I said "EDGE"...not "EGGS". It gets worse yet more hilarious every day around here.

A Brief Note.

When last we spoke I was discussing hubby's hernia operation and the results. So far, so good regarding his health. Sadly our family has suffered some major losses in recent months. We mourn the passing of my Brother-in-law and our Dear Sweet Mom. Enough said.

HERNIA SCHMERNIA!!!

I hope this is the last tale I have to tell regarding my hubby's innards. He's developed what's called an "incisional hernia" behind the spot where part of his Frank-intestine was removed. Hernias are strange. It's as if the intestines are trying to escape!

I'm sure everything will be just fine and now that hubby realizes he REALLY needs to avoid heavy lifting for a much longer period of time than he did after the first surgery so this won't happen again. If it does he'll suffer the consequences of ME. >:(



Post Op Update and Other Gruesome Goings On.

When last I was here hubby and I were anticipating his upcoming colon surgery for the removal of damage done by an abscess caused by Diverticulitis. Never in a million years did I think I would have a need to know how to spell diverticulitis!

The surgery went well and for the first day or two after coming home he was recovering just fine. He had two small incisions with a staple or two and one larger one where the docs hand was inserted. It was this "hand sized" incision that proved to be a problem. One day while changing the dressing I noticed the wound was entirely to red.

We rushed him to the doc and she put him on some potent antibiotics. If I recall correctly it was either the next day or the one after when I hear hubby calling me from the bathroom. He's sitting on the john and nasty looking blood is pouring from the incision onto the floor!! We rush him back to the doc and sure enough there is an infection. Doc yanks some of the staples and opens the wound. I'm given a quick course on how to PACK said wound with fresh dressing every day. Before all the staples were removed the packing was a bitch to say the least. The gauze had to be shoved back under the staples with one of those really long Q-tip thingys. The trick was to avoid snagging the gauze on the staples. To make a long story short, the staples were eventually removed and the packing/unpacking went on until the incision finally closed.  

Hubby was finally cleared to return to work and so far all is well.

As Visions of Semi-Colons Danced in My Head

  Not sure where to go with this. We've been trying to make jokes about hubby's impending surgery. We think of things such as he's losing a colon but gaining a "semi-colon". I've chosen to nickname it "Frankintestine".



  Not long before Thanksgiving hubby started experiencing sharp pains in his lower abdomen. Because he has a history of kidney stones he felt this was simply another attack.





 This has happened one other time since we've been married and after one of the most horrendous rides to the ER  I've ever experienced, I swore I'd never take him again. I understand he was in agony, but he was demanding I run through stop signs and red lights to get him to the hospital faster. With this attack, or what we thought was a kidney stone attack, he hopped into a cab for his ride back and forth. I meant what I said. His options were to take a cab, a limo or I was going to call for an ambulance. You know, if you're not in an immediate need for extraordinary medical care..it's cheaper to hire a limo than an ambulance.  

  After this supposed kidney stone assault he was sent to a urologist who in turn performed surgery on dear hubby. He was left with a stent between his kidney and bladder. At the end of this stent was a long line hanging out of the end of his dip stick!!! I'm not sure if it was threadlike, a wire or a piece of fishing line. I never looked! After two weeks of walking around with this foreign object implanted in his insidie parts it was time for the doc to remove it. This brought about some interesting scenarios. Hubby was hoping they'd knock him out for the procedure. He invisioned the doc standing over him and yanking on the "wire" as if he was attempting to pull start a lawnmower!! As it turned out, the doc simply pulled the entire apparatus out in one clean stroke.

  Reveling in our ignorant bliss we assumed that all was well.



The stones were gone..we missed Thanksgiving but could still have a wonderful Christmas. We were delusional. In less than a week hubby's pain was back and worse than before! Two more trips to the ER where it was finally discovered he has diverticulitis. There was a large abscess on his colon. He's scheduled for his second surgery in less than a month. When it's over he's sporting a drain tube which is exiting his tummy just below his belly button. At the end of this tube is what the nurse lovingly called a "grenade".

Seriously, it looks like a clear latex grenade. We preferred to call it a pineapple. Seems less menacing. A few days ago the doc removed the drain but hubby will have to have surgery in February to removed the weakened section of his colon. I understand this is a fairly common procedure...but in all honesty...I'm scared shitless!

We thought perhaps it was just crappy luck having two different health issues back to back, but now we're beginning to suspect it was the diverticulitis all the time! The kidney stones were there, but they were in a peaceful mode with no plan of attack. But, we're not doctors and it serves no purpose to second guess what's happened. All we can do is hope that once he has the surgery, he'll be good as new.

Halloween Memories!

Some of my favorite memories of goblin day revolve around the Halloween Carnival at Crane Elementary School in Yuma, AZ. It was an amazing event. There were cake walks, white elephant sales, hay rides, games, tons of helium balloons and the joy of seeing your teachers in costume! 

One of my favorite games involved "fishing". You're given a pole with a string and clothespin attached. When you dropped your line over the wall, a person on the other side would attach a prize to the clothespin. Woohoo!! Sadly, I usually ended up with one of those Chinese finger cuff things!

There was so much to do! Another favorite activity would have been to collect all the balloons we could then inhale the helium out of them. Fun stuff, but apparently something we shouldn't have been doing. Who knew back then? Perhaps that's why I now have a severe case of the "wide-ends"...or "terminal cellulite". Maybe, just maybe it's the cause of the creepy "bat wing syndrome" under my arms? Oh the horrors...if I'd only known.

The huge back doors on the school gym where the carnival was held would be opened up and there would be a talent show. The most memorable act I recall was a band that played "Wild Thing". Imagine what that would sound like now!

As I bring this to an end, I have to mention the Wild Man. During one of the Halloween carnivals a teacher (I think) came running into the gym yelling "the wild man is loose". I don't recall who it was, but one of the adults had dressed in raggedy clothes, he had a chainlike leash around his neck and was running around acting like a crazed escapee from the psych ward! It was great! Kids were running and screaming...some genuinely frightened and some just having a good time. I doubt this would be allowed at the school sponsored "Fall Festivals" today.

The Zombies are at the "Worry Box"!!

When we were very young my Dad and his sister, my Aunt Velma, would take great pleasure in scaring the crap out of us either by story or by deed. One story in particular stands out because it not only involved zombies dragging themselves from the local graveyard to our Grandads' house, there was also mention of the "Worry Box".  It was actually a "weir box" which is used in the irrigation of farm land, but we always called it the Worry Box. The one pictured isn't exactly the same, but still creepy and serves it's purpose.

  At the time Aunt Velma told us this story we were at our Grandads' house which sat WAY out in the middle of several cotton fields. At one end of the dirt road in front of Grandads' house was an area we called "the woods". It was actually just a small stand of mosquite trees, but the adults made them sound just spooky enough to keep us out of them. At the other end of the same dirt road was an old crumbling adobe building surrounded by even older salt cedar trees. We called them "tamaracks", who knew?

Aunt Velma would begin her tale in the graveyard outside of Coolidge, Arizona. She described the zombies coming up out of the ground and slowly making their way toward the house.

She would describe their travels in such detail! They're passing this field, coming down this dirt road and finally..."they're by the WORRY BOX"!! You have to understand that the worry box was only a short distance from the house. We could just imagine the zombie horde shuffling down the dirt road getting ever closer!

One night my Dad and Aunt Velma decided to escalate the fright factor. Daddy had been sitting in the kitchen, we all knew this. While we're listening to the story Aunt Velma suddenly looks very scared and tells us she sees two red eyes looking in the window. We turn around and there they are!! Two horrible glowing red eyes looking right at us. Of course we think it's my Dad but by the time we get to the kitchen he's sitting innocently at the table. They had us running back and forth looking for the monster. Eventually it was revealed that Daddy was simply lighting up a couple of cigarettes and sticking them near the windows.  

Care To Indulge in Some Chocolate Covered Felis Catus!?

I was reminded this morning of an event that happened way back in late 1982 or early 83. My youngest daughter was 2 at the time of her foul deed. This particular Sunday morning she had managed to get out of bed without making so much of a whisper of sound. The end result of this stealth like activity was horrifying yet hilarious all rolled into one. Kind of like finding a large hairy spider laying on the pillow next to your head only to discover it isn't real...just a harmless practical joke. Perhaps not the best example..but you get what I mean.

 We stumble into the living room to find our two year old covered in chocolate syrup. A quick scan around the room reveals our poor cat...also covered in chocolate syrup. On closer inspection, we realize that our daughter...our baby girl has not only shared the Hershey's with the cat...along his spine she's cut out large chunks of fur practically scalping the poor thing's leg!! 

Holy hell. WHY did the cat let her do this? He was either the best behaved cat in the entire world...was so dumbfounded by what she was doing to him he couldn't move...stoned on catnip...or just plain stupid!! 

This could have been so much worse! Our daughter could have gone out the front door and hitched a ride to New York (she's always wanted to go there), the cat could have shredded her beyond recognition..or we could have been the objects of her evil doing and found ourselves waking up covered in chocolate syrup and most of our hair stuck to our pillows!! We never have figured out why. She was so young and had no reasonable...or understandable answers for us.

  

The Dreaded Garbonzo Bumble Bean!

I had to write this down before it completely escaped my memory. After years of working in the industrial/manufacturing field my hubby has lost some of his hearing. Personally I believe it's a combination of work and age, but he prefers the work excuse.

During the summer he sits directly beneath the large A/C window unit we have in the living room. It's very LOUD so between that..the tv and the pedestal fan he has blowing on him I have to raise my voice to be heard.

This afternoon we are watching the PDRA drag races live online. Of course he cranks up the volume when the cars launch down the track. 

One car in particular was pointed out as having a new black and yellow paint scheme. I told my hearing challenged hubby that "IT LOOKS LIKE A BUMBLE BEE"!! He says "WHAT...DID YOU SAY IT LOOKS LIKE A GARBONZO BEAN"?!?! Good gawd. I tried my best to stifle the laugh...but the pressure was to much and unless I wanted to piss my pants and blow snot out of my nose simultaneously ..I just let the laughter fly.

Skeeter Gangs of New Orleans!

Hubby and I are eating lunch and watching the Weather Channel. They're interviewing victims of Hurricane Isaac and some of the people there to help..etc. One of those persons interviewed mentioned how hot and humid it is now that Isaac has chosen to move northeast. 

Hubby and I start discussing the mosquitoes in the deep south right now. I mentioned that they were probably as big as our dog and roaming the streets in gangs looking to attack unsuspecting citizens. The better half goes on to talk about gun or knife totin' skeeters ambushing humans...holding them down while the others have their way with them. My dear sweet husband kinda ran off the rails when he started talking about what the skeeter gang members would be wearing! Carrying guns and knives is one thing, but actual clothing? I'll give him bandanas, but that's it. 

It's almost unimaginable that there could be anything more horrifying than a gang of thug mosquitoes...until you encounter...

THE WEST NILE SKEETER!!!