Wacky Wednesday: The Man in the Boat

  • A 73 year-old fisherman is out in his small fishing boat off the coast of Australia. He is sitting on his ice chest, minding his own business, when all of a sudden something leaps in the air and lands in his boat. As it lands beside him, something jabs him in the right arm. It is the pectoral fin of a Great  What Shark. It thrashes around his boat, battering and bruising him and knocking him to his hands and knees. He is able to get to his radio and call for help.

The Marine Rescue sends a launch boat and a helicopter. The Marine Rescue get him out of his boat and away from his 9′, 440 lb., unwanted guest. He is  taken to the hospital for treatment. the fisherman says this won’t keep him from going back out in his boat.

Really? If a Great White Shark landed in my boat, I’m pretty sure I would have leaped from that boat and swam back to shore in record time. As for going out again, I would, burn, sell or sink that boat. That’s kind of the way I see a haunted house. First site of a ghost, I’m gone. I wouldn’t even go back for my stuff.

This story remind me of the book, “The ‘Old Man and the Sea’. Anyone else see a resemblance?  Share with me any tales you have from the ocean. Dad, do you have one to share?


Two Hands Are Better Than One

If you have read my previous posts, you will know I had carpal tunnel surgery. I have to wear a brace on my left arm. This brace is hot, awkward and whoever designed it forgot that the person wearing it would only have one hand to use. My family is hiding when they see me coming with my brace in hand. I am very particular about how I want my brace. I want it to be comfortable. That means, I don’t want the Velcro rubbing my knuckles or it so loose that it falls off. I have tried putting it on by myself. I have used my teeth. I have tried bracing my arm against a table. It takes two hands! So Mr. Armbrace Maker, (you know it was a man who designed it), you suck!

It also have to be hand washed and air dried. It is in the constant state of filth. Dog hair on the outside because it’s almost impossible to get the dog hair off with a lint brush. Dirt and dried sweat on the inside. Luckily I use essential oils so it smells good. Last time I washed it by hand I couldn’t get it rung out with one hand. (There’s that again!) I had to put it in the dryer, which you aren’t suppose to do.  It came unraveled a bit. This time I’m going to try to wash it in my dishwasher. Yes, I know, Gross!!

Wacky Wednesday: That Darn Neighbor

Wacky Wednesday is a new feature that is dedicated to those wacky people who make our lives more interesting. This is meant to entertain and not depress. The news is so full of tragic things that are happening in our world. This week’s story is only tragic if you are the neighbor of a man in Tiverton, RI, who decide to pave the road to his house with clam shells, which is a good idea if you wash them first. He did not. He brought in truckloads of shells. The shells actually had pieces of meat attached to them.

The neighbors immediately started to complain. They protested with signs that said, “Honk if it Stinks”. They stood on the side of the road wearing doctor’s masks and gas masks. One lady on the news showed how close the road was too her home. All of this happened when it was cloudy and then………the sun came out. Cue the maggots and flies.  Can you imagine the smell?

After two weeks the city ordered him to remove the fly infested, maggot covered “road”. Watching the video was so real. It was like you could almost smell it. I personally would have just moved. How are they ever going to get the stink out of their houses?

Have you ever had a neighbor that did anything to irritate you? I remember one place we lived the lady across the street would walk her dog in our yard. She would let him do his business right in front of our picture window. Definitely not a Kodak moment. (Do people still call it  ‘picture window’ ?)

Piece of Cake

I survived my first carpal tunnel surgery. For some reason I thought it would be so much worse than it was. The day before I was to call and find out what time my surgery was scheduled for. I was very disappointed to find out I was suppose to be there at 11:00 am. What! I will have starved to death before then.  I did the only thing I could think of on the day of my surgery, set my alarm for 45 minutes before I was to leave. If I am asleep I wouldn’t be hungry, right? We were to leave at 10, my alarm was set for 9:15. I wake up at 8 and can’t go back to sleep. By the time we left for the hospital, I’m not really hungry but I am terribly thirsty and feel as if I have swamp breath.

I try not to breath on the nurse, who is asking one hundred and one questions that I’m sure I already answered in the preregistration phone conversation I had the week before. When she is done I am instructed to remove my clothes and put on the backless gown that comes with a visit to the hospital. “All of my clothes?” I ask. ” All of your clothes”, she responds. “But my arm is up here”, I say pointing to my arm that is well above my nether region.” I am sure she did an inward eye roll. (If that’s even a thing.) I did as she asked in the privacy of my curtained cubicle, with my daughter and mother looking on to make sure I wasn’t a rule breaker.  When she returns she hooks me up with not one IV needle but two. As I’m laying there uncomfortably, the guy from the anesthesiology department comes in and explains the procedure and tells me I won’t be asleep but will be groggy. Really? This is not what I signed up for. I don’t want to see or hear anything when my body is being cut on.

After awhile the doctor comes in to see me and I am please to see that he looks well rested. He excuses himself and shortly after I am taken to surgery. When I wake I am back in the out-patient room I started in. Yes, I said when I wake. Ok, what happened? Did I talk too much and annoy the surgical staff and they voted to go ahead and knock me out? For the record I did apologize before hand for anything I may say while under the influence of drugs. I know what I say when I am conscious so I am expecting the worse when I am not.

Everyone at the hospital was great. No complaints at all. I was sent home without pain meds, which I thought was weird. I had my daughter get me some Nyquil. I slept the rest of the day and went back to see the doctor the next day at his request. Everything looked good and I was scheduled to go back to him in ten days for the removal of my stitches.

By Monday I was back at work, popped a stitch and have heat rash under my brace but hey, no pain!


Getting My Act Together



I have been slacking more than usual lately. It could be the 55+ hours I am working a week or it could be the lack of ideas for my blog. I wanted to work ahead and write six or seven posts to have on hand. I am having carpal tunnel surgery on my left hand this week and not sure how typing one handed will work out. I seem to have my best ideas for a blog topic while I am in the shower. By the time I get out and get dressed that idea has completely left me.


Expect some changes in the near further. I am ready for some change, even though I hate change.



Just Another Day


A couple weeks ago I drove by a convenience store.  Pulled up to the gas pumps was a truck loaded down with sticks. My first thought was, he is delivering building materials to one of the three little pigs. My second thought was, dang, I should of gotten a picture of that. When it comes to taking pictures, I am always too slow. I always miss that Kodak moment.

One day at work, I heard a plane flying really low. I went out to see what was going on. It was a crop duster. My first thought was, I wonder if I am going to get poisoned standing out here. My second thought was, I should get a picture of this. After getting my camera and after numerous attempts I had several shots of tree branches with just a glimpse of airplane wing.

I am not too bad at taking pictures of things that don’t move. Enjoy my accomplishments below.

Does this remind you of Mario Brothers?
One of the beautiful things I see at work on a daily basis.
My friend that lives in the backroom at work.

When my children were growing up I always forgot to take my camera to important events or outings. If I did remember my camera I would never get around to developing my film. Thank goodness for my parents. They never forgot their camera, otherwise I wouldn’t have pics of many of my kids important moments. Don’t judge, most of the time I was lucky to get the little angels in the car and where we were going. One of my kids always managed to go outside right before we left and find dog poop. Needless to say he would have to have a wardrobe change and we would be behind schedule.

Ok, back to original story. In October, our town has a big celebration. We have three parades in three days. As I was driving one day I got behind this. This isn’t so unusual is it?

Graduation Time

Yesterday was the high school graduation in the town I live in. As I am looking through the special section of the newspaper with the pictures of all the graduates, I recognize a few faces. A couple of the graduates were the oldest children in their family to graduate. I remember how it was to watch my first born walk across the stage. I think I held my breath the whole time. It was a melancholy feeling. Thinking about my child leaving home and being on her own.

There was also two in the paper that are middle children. With my second child I had mixed feeling. I really didn’t want him to grow up and move on. I will admit, however, I was elated that I would not have to spend the next twelve years trying to drag his butt out of bed every morning for school.

There were three graduates that were the youngest in their family. By the time my third and last child graduated I was in full melt-down mode. He was the last, the end, I was finished raising my kids. That was a year ago and I have since recovered.

My heart goes out the mother’s of the graduates. We, as parents, have to learn to let our children become adults. Then we have to learn a whole new way of life. It was hard to adapt to being just me and hubby. It had been 31 years since it was just the two of us.

Ok, somehow I have made this all about me. (Big surprise.) To the graduates of 2017, enjoy life, get an education, there is nothing you can’t do if you really want it. Most importantly, call your mother.

“You have to leave the city of your comfort and go into the wilderness of your intuition. You can’t get there by bus, only by hard work and risk and by not quite knowing what you’re doing, but what you’ll discover will be wonderful. What you’ll discover will be yourself.”  Alan Alda

Happy Mother’s Day!

I want to say Happy Mother’s Day to the worlds best Mother. My mom has been through thick and thin with me. She has stood by me no matter what stupid thing I have done. (The list is long.) She was with me through the birth of all three of my children. (She was injured during two of them.) She is a wonderful grandmother to my three and my sisters fur babies. Happy Mother’s Day Mom! I love you to the moon and back.

The Oils Have It

As you may or may not know, I have recently started using doTERRA Essential Oils. I love them. I have been spreading the gospel of these oils to everyone I know. In the past few months I have quit using many of the over the counter products I had used for my ailments.

Every time someone sneezes or farts, here I come with my oils. I even have a diffuser on my desk to keep sick peoples’ germs at bay. Currently my diffuser is at a friend’s house. I had observed on a visit to her home that her child had a runny nose. We diffused Breathe in the diffuser. Now she is a believer.

One day my daughter brought her friend to me because she had a tooth ache. I fixed her up, good as new, using Melaleuca, or as good as one can be without visiting a dentist. Both of my sons have come to me with aches and pains and I feel like I am a useful parent again, fixing their boo boos.

One of the reasons I ordered the oils to begin with is I was waking up at one am. I found it hard to go back to sleep. When I finally did, the alarm clock would go off seconds later. I started using Lavender oil with a drop of Frankincense.  Now I sleep all night.

One night my son, J, came home late. The dogs sleep in my room and can hear the gate or the back door open and bark like crazy. However, he made it into the house and  my room and none of the dogs woke up. My husband and I didn’t hear him either. In the morning he told me that he was kind of freaked out that none of us woke up and almost checked our breathing.

As I get older and my body parts are starting to fall apart, I find myself turning more and more to doTERRA oils.

All My Little Ducks In a Row

A couple months ago my oldest son, D, came to work at the garden center I work at. If you have been following along with my blog you will remember that he thinks I ask too many questions. I try to limit myself to twenty questions a day. Sometimes I will stop my inquiry in mid-sentence when I realize I have gone over the allotted number of questions.

Many things have changed since he was a teen and lived at home. Some have not. If he walks into the office and I am singing, he says, “You should probably never do that again.” Just like old times.

We have all been very pleased with the work he does and he will be moving to the landscape crew when our season is over. Things slow down in the garden center around the end of May, so all the temporary help is laid off.

My youngest son, J, (I am not suppose to call him the baby anymore.) started working on the landscape crew. Both the boys and my daughter, grew up at the garden center when my family owned it. I left in ’06 to open a home daycare and my parents sold it in about ’08. J liked to go to the garden center as much as possible as a child. D, not so much. J learned to run the cash register about first or second grade. Whenever a customer came to the register, he would elbow the cashier out of the way so he could ring them up. Of course it was cute at first.

My daughter, T, also loved the garden center as a child but didn’t hang out there as much. We didn’t have as much patience when T & D were little. T was 12 when J was born. By the time he was born we were a little more relaxed as parents and he would get to go to work with us.

When J was about third grade, he would go on small jobs with my dad. On more that one occasion the landscapers would file in to the office. My dad would say, ” Why aren’t you out working?” They would reply, “J fired us.” My dad would then have a little talk with him.