On A Wigged Out Blast from the Past:

So today I was cruising on the internet looking for vintage advertising to get some pictures to paste on the Out House’s inner door and a wall or two. Yes, people did that back then.

And I found this Ad link to Vintage plastic play wigs for girls.

(I don’t steal other peoples things so you’ll just have to see them for yourself.)

They are three semi soft plastic molded hairstyles just like the ones that my little sister had back in the day. My friends and I were too old for this stuff but we got to being silly and played with them one day pretending to be singers.

Goofy stuff that young people do, I know. But we were all there at one time or another.

What a rush to be a silly teen pretending to be a 60’s rock star again, while looking at those silly kids toy wigs.

I’m old and I know it, but I still like to have a bit of silly fun every once in a while. I wonder what ever happened to those wigs. I could use one to have a granny Lady Gaga moment.

On Getting with the Season:

I’m almost caught up with the blogs I read. Two weeks worth. And a lot of info.

I’ve made a batch of cookie dough and froze it in a log for easy cutting, ready incase company comes over with little advanced notice over the holidays. Pop it in the oven and we’re good to go in only 15 minutes.

I’ve pulled it out of the freezer, cut the log like dough, placed them on the cookie sheet; all while the oven warmed up. And fresh baked cookies were being pulled from the oven as the company came up the driveway.

It helps to make the house smell great for the arrivals too.

Not that we do the holiday thing. But friend and family do and make us part of the round of visits.

I do decorate but in winter theme. Snowflakes and snowmen, icicles and sleigh bells.

The kids (mostly the girls) all (even the adults) like to look at the mini world of the doll houses, dolls and their things. And if there is snow outside there is sledding down the hill past the oak grove.

No gift giving but plenty of love and enjoying each other. No pressure to find the right gift or spending money that I don’t have on something they don’t really want. No gifts that I don’t need or want to find room for.

It was hard in the beginning to make others understand our way of thinking. But now it isn’t as hard. And with the added economy issues others are having a harder time buying extras now and are happy to not have to add us to the gift list.

Winter comes with its holidays even if we don’t indulge in all of them. We all have a good time visiting in spite of our spiritual differences. I have no feelings of ill will to those that follow different life rules or holidays. To each their own, I say.

Happy holidays everyone!

On Catching Up With Others:

I spent my computer time today in catching up with my emails and reading the blogs I missed.

I’m still not done, but I’m closer. So many blogs, so little time to comment!

Not much going on here. I have a cold, but I’m fighting it. ‘I will not be taken down with it.’ I have things to do.

I’m glad to be back here with you.

On Just One Of Those Days:

On Just One Of Those Days:

I tripped. One of those little trips where you don’t fall down, but the things in your hands go flying and you kind of trip over them before you can stop yourself.

I did this with the spiral staircase for the doll house. It took hours to fix it. And I still have to replace a few parts, but it is in one piece and standing again.

And the toilet broke. It needs a new flusher valve and I have to wait until Mountain Man can get out for the part to fix it. So for now I have to use a bucket of water to flush.

And I got a wasp up my skirt while walking the dog. Seven stings later I managed to get it out. I had to limp home as they swelled. A baking soda poultice helped, but I still have red swollen bumps on my legs.

Tomorrow has to be a better day. And knowing that I can look forward to enjoying it, with no reservation, makes me smile.

On Busy, Busy Company Coming:

I’ve been trying to help the local flood victims clean up and do my own Autumn cleaning. And on top of that my Dad and Step-mom are coming to visit for a few days.

Yes, despite my long years on this planet all my parents are still alive.

To see them you would not take them for their ages and in some ways you’d think them younger than me. (I’m a bit bent over and slow right now from hauling and cleaning stuff this past week.)

They’ll arrive on Friday and will be staying through the weekend. So I must not just set the air mattress out in the parlor for them like I do for the kids when they come. I give Dan and Step-mom my big, dark, high, ornate, bed so my Dad doesn’t have to get up from the floor in the morning. They just have to use the stool to get into it at night.

This means clearing out my bedroom so as not to scare them to death with my Gothy décor. Like skulls on the bed finials and such stuff. Not that it is strictly necessary to remove them, but it is an excuse to give the room a good Autumn clean out.

So down comes the well cultivated cobwebs. Banished is the dust too thick to write on in the corners. (Yes, you can have dust too thick. It falls back down into the cleared space where you just tried to write in it and it puffs up in clouds in your face.)

My bottles of spider’s eyelashes and such stuff and my caldron get moved into the closet, along with my dead flowers and plants. My mourning pictures and the ones of the moon through clouds and bare branches come down to be cleaned behind as well and my dead stuffed animals too.

My collective parents, (Mom Dad and Stepmom.) are old school Christian and they love me in their way, although they do not like my life choices. So we compromise and they come when I’m doing my Autumn cleaning so that they don’t have to see all my Gothiness all at once.

I love them so I have some of my stuff down and out of the way for more days than just cleaning would necessitate. I cut back on the face paint and wardrobe too because, why have that time old discussion about style when, we can have a good time doing other things before they are gone. (I’m no kid anymore. Just one of their kids. There are nine of us altogether and why should I be the troublesome one besides the strangest.)

So if you were looking for me I was in my vanilla clothing getting it all dirty and torn, cleaning up Deathwatch Manor and then some. (Boy, I wish I could keep some servants around here. But they will clean things up a little ‘too’ clean for my tastes.)

On Pumpkin Head Moments:

Really a Grandma moment, but I digress.

I have here a picture of one of our three large pumpkins. The wall is about hip high on me. So the pumpkin is about knee high.

And the pumpkin has grown since I took this picture a few weeks ago.

It was decided back in the Spring that we would try to grow a pumpkin large enough for the grandkid to fit into by his first birthday.

Now the grandkid will be a year old in October.

The trick will be to keep the pumpkin alive and growing through the expected storm, so that when the grandkid comes to visit around about his birthday, we can carve it out and sit him inside.

I now have the need to knit pumpkin hats for all involved.

Where did I stash my orange yarn?

On Blustery Play Day:

So yesterdays east coast earth quake came and went with little damage, and none to human life, it did shake up a lot of folk.

Now we are looking Hurricane Irene in the face. The air is wild and brisk today. Not cold exactly, but fresh and cool.

I love wild blustery windy days. The kind of wind that comes and goes in all directions seemingly at once. The wind turns the leaves on the trees upside down with a steady hiss as the leaves brush against each other.

These winds are not kind to bumbershoots (Umbrellas or parasols.) or lacey fairy wings and tend to tangle your long skirts and petticoats around your legs. Lifting leaves or papers and things off the ground and throw them about. But still I love them.

They stir me up and give me energy. I want to break out in a run and make loud noises. I feel like I’m chasing and being chased all at once.

I don’t expect to see fairies or even small animals in the woods on days like this. Whorl winds of debris dance about and die in clearings. As children we would chase them, trying to jump into the center and fly away. They were never strong enough for that, but we were children and endlessly hopeful.

When we were older children we thought about gliders and other Icarus type contraptions on blustery days. Running and jumping into the wind with large pieces of cardboard in tow were the game then.

Winds like this are usually followed by rain and lots of it. And tomorrow that is the forecast.

Today it is just such a blustery day. I should be hanging laundry on the clothes line and airing out things for the winter months catching this fresh smell for those months to come. But all I want to do is to take a bed sheet by the corners, go outside and play with the wind.

On Vacation Timing:

I’ve been busy. More than usual for this time of year. Missing a month or more of a part of my year set me back.

I remember August as a kid. My father always took his vacations in August, so that is when we went. It was the time of year to do day trips, or camping, swimming, and not doing the normal everyday things in life.

When I was the mommy, I’d make our vacation plans for August.

But this year I don’t have a day to spare.

Gardening, harvesting, canning, home repair, visiting relatives for work/repair days at their homes, volunteering, meetings, wood gathering, wood splitting, wood stacking and getting things ready in and outside of the house for winter.

Over scheduling! Calendar Full!

I’m just glad I don’t have kids to get ready for school.

Yes, I know that I can do some of those things next month if I choose to. But next month has its own things to do. So this month I try to catch up so when September comes I’m ready.

I’d rather not procrastinate. I sat for too long last month. Now I want to get things done. No vacation time, but I don’t mind now that I’m back home.

On What I Learned While On My Forced Quiet Time:

Well, I could have just brooded about my situation while being stuck in Nowhere’s Ville, Normal Town, USA.

But I chose a better route. I looked within and found some things that I had been missing. I generally don’t do good with too much time to think. I can work myself up to a panic if I let myself.

I watched the trees in the breeze and found faces.

I hadn’t done that since I was a kid. Its kinda’ like those puzzles where you find the hidden pictures in the larger picture. (Find the hidden cup, bat, phone, and dog.)

I found baby faces, old faces, lady faces, man faces. Faces that looked like they were talking to each other and faces that looked like they were talking to me.

It was like having my own group of friends come to see how I was doing, while I sat quietly waiting for the woman I was helping to finish napping.

I would think up conversations for them. The old fisherman with a beard would say, ‘How’s the day been treating you?’ And the Lady with a hat would answer, ‘Middlin’ good. Just like my friend watch us out that window down there.’ The baby would just smile away.

The older woman, in the next tree over, asked me questions about my self growth. How are you feeling about your life path these days? Are you good with your God? What do you want to accomplish in yourself before you get home? Having busy work doesn’t make you accomplished, does it? (Along with others.)

All good questions and I was glad for the time to listen and think on them.

No panic, no self doubt, no self incrimination. Only finding parts of me that I had lost. Gaining perspective. I’m a better, healthier person for doing it.

I also found some silly parts of me that I just stopped having fun with a long time ago. And you know what? It helps me be a better grandma now that I’ve found them again.

So I didn’t have a half bad time will I was away. And I got some really good self learning in while I was at it. Better stuff than money can buy if you ask me.

On Thirds:

Well another year is almost at the third way point. Yes, May is almost upon us.

I am spring cleaning and have a goal of getting rid of one third of my collected junk. J-U-N-K Jewels (As in Sparklies), Unproductive (Collecting dust.), Non-useable (By me at this time.), Klutter (Clutter, poetic license).

Of that third of my things, I have told myself that I have to recycle/re-purpose at least a thirds of it.

So I am selling a third, giving away a third, and reusing/recycling most of the rest.

Most of the selling stuff is things I used when I was doing colonial re-enacting. I can’t see just sending it to Good Will. They don’t know what half of the stuff is for or how to use it anyway. And re-enactors are always looking for a deal on used, broken in things. (New stuff sticks out like a sore thumb.)

I do have to pair down the crafting collection. I have a day camp willing to take a lot of that stuff off my hands in one load. Popsicle sticks to plastic beads, odd baskets to extra glue guns. Even some odd left over paint. They can use the free crafting stuffs.

As to re-using things? Well by patch work and piece meal. I’ll have a few more bed covers and such. I always did patchwork over blankets that were getting worn out. It beats buying filler for them.

And there is no end of things I can make the grandkid out of my old stuff. Toys, clothes, games, soft books. Few things around here ever just get thrown out without having at least one use before the garbage bin. Even food containers like paper milk containers become building blocks or seedling planters. The plastic ones get holes put in them and they collect things from crafting supplies to berries when it is picking time.

Oh, the things you can do with a cottage cheese container and its lid.

Anyway I need the space, the freedom, and the piece of mind.

Three good things to have, if you ask me.

On Venturing Abroad:

So being at the ‘spa’ for a week had me grocery shopping this morning. We were out of just about everything perishable. The frig was bare.

I clung to the shopping cart like a champ, managed to get all the needs met, but I needed a nap when we got home. Mountain Man thankfully put the groceries away for me.

I did, of course, leave my shopping list and coupons home on the kitchen counter. My head is still in the clouds of post spa-dum I think. But that also could be looked upon as the same as normal for me and my bad memory.

Sir Handsome spent the shopping time in his crate in the back seat of the car sleeping the time away. (Probably the last time we do that as the warmer weather will be here all to soon. And I don’t do sun baked puppy in the car.) It was still cool enough in the car to have him with us so we did.

There was also the drama of Sir Handsome’s bone chews. There is this one kind of puppy chew bones, he likes this particular flavor that this one brand has. Of course it is not sold to the public, only retailers.

And, you guessed it, I’ve only found one store by me that carries it. I have been trying to get my local grocery store to stock extra for me, if not order me a case. They do carry them you see. But all I can get each week is the few on the rack. Not enough to hold him over until the next shopping trip.

I talk to one person after another, each time someone new. I even phone in between times that I am there. To no avail. They can’t seem to get their act together and order me some dog chew bones for my puppy. This has been going on for weeks now.

Yes, I do know that my drama is ever so much more interesting. That is why I share it with you. Thank you for noticing. Hee, hee.

Anyway, that is it for my travels from my cozy bat nest. And you know how it is; dishes are calling my name, the floor needs washing and I have to wash the bed sheets or I wouldn’t be able to change the bedding again on sheet changing day. So I guess I’d better get at it.

On Looking at Looks:

I am not beautiful. To look at that is. I am proud of the beauty I have within. I do look more like Grandma Addams then any other character in that wonderful show. I have a baby picture of myself looking so much like Uncle Fester that I thought it must be a mistake when I was younger and wanted to be a beautiful people too.

I did have a cute phase in which I looked some what like Shirley Temple, curly hair and all, enough to be asked by smiling strangers if I could dance and sing like her. But alas, I was only two years old and could not. The smiles went away from their faces.

Most of my life I was not skinny or fat, just middlin. The rest of my family are tall and I am short, being slightly dwarfed in my arms and legs. (When I sit next to my tallest brother we are the same height. But when we stand I am more than a head shorter, over a foot in fact.)

As a kid I was smart and had a good imagination. I was not good at book learning or in school work. I was interested in things that made others moan and groan. I liked what others shunned. I was a misfit.

I saw through their sham lives. The lies they told themselves so that they were not left behind the crowd. The hoops that they jumped through, the disguises that they hid behind with smiles so practiced that they didn’t look fake any longer. I distrust smiles.

I found faces with wrinkles and the people behind them far more interesting than the smooth faced ’pretty’ liars around me.

The wrinkled people didn’t lie nearly as much. They didn’t have to pretend that things were different than it really was. They were old and only the people that really loved them or were really interested in what they had to say paid them any attention.

My mother would say, “Don’t stare!” And I’d think to myself that I wasn’t. I was committing them to memory and that there was so much more to remember in an interesting wrinkled face.

Wrinkled faces are soft and comfortable. You can read their eyes so much better. They have a patchwork of interesting roads mapped out on their faces. Leading to questions about all that experience hidden beneath.

I was lucky to have lived as a child before all this accessible eternal youth. To have discovered this treasure before it was harder to find and it rarely disappoints me even now that I‘m a wrinkly too.

On Got a Little Lost Filling a Hole:

Well, I’ve been looking at puppies. Mostly on the web.

I doesn’t matter what kind they are. Any puppy will do. I’m not quite ready to bring one home just yet. But it does my heart good just to look.

I did discover a kind of dog new to me. A Chiweenie. It is a Chihuahua/Dachshund mix. Kind of like a mini, mini dachshund. (Of course there are some that are more Chihuahua, but I’ve found them to be more rare so far.)

Anyway, here is a video for your pleasure too.

On Pet Connections:

First I’d like to say thank you for all those kind words over the loss of my long time dog friend. It really means a lot to me.

I do have more I need to say about my connections with Lady Long.

I think that this one is harder for me, mostly because she was the last pet we had that was still alive before my son died.

I have memories of the two of them playing on the floor, he a large man child and she a wee puppy. She would win the day, mostly because the uncontrollable laughter she created in him. I would remember that when I’d look at her many times over the years. And now that connection too is gone.

They are only dogs, pets, playthings, you say? Hardly! Is my reply.

They are roots to ground us, laughter to lighten us, repetition to mellow us, love to carry us, faithful to sooth us, mates to fill our souls.

Sure it takes time to walk them, money to feed and keep them healthy, and energy to clean up after them. But what they give to us is so much more than we give them.

If you have never had that with a pet, I feel as sorry for you as I am hurting at the loss of it right now. It is a wonderful thing.

It is why we hurt so much when they are gone. They leave a mighty hole in your life when they are no longer there.

But life does move on. I will feel better as the days move forward. I may even get another pet. But there will always be a piece of my heart only for my Lady Long.

PS: I’ll try to be in a lighter mood tomorrow.

On Never Ending Winter or ‘Time for Spring I Say‘:

Not that I‘m complaining, because I’m not. I’m not a summer person. If I ever have to move, it will be north not south.

Mountain Man does not like this year of the never ending Winter. He can’t wait to see green things growing and play outside all day again.

We had Spring for a day on Spring the first. And woke to inches of white stuff on every outdoor surface the next morning.

Today wet and tomorrow more snow of the plow-able kind.

I refer you to the cartoon that we watch ever year on the first of Spring. I hope it helps you through the days until Spring is finally here for good.

(It might be cut off on the side in my blog so if it is just click on it and you will go to YouTube and see the whole thing.)

On So Sorry, All My Fault:

It’s the weather you see.

We just realized it is all my fault.

Back in November, Mountain Man and I were talking about the winters when we were kids. The good old day stuff all us oldies supposedly talk about endlessly.

Anyway I said to him that, “I’d like to see a winter like the kind I had back when I was in grade school.” And I really wished it to be true at that moment in time. (Who knew I had so much power?)

And so here we are. A long drawn out winter that won’t stop and can’t decide what to do with itself.

I didn’t really want to impose it on everyone along with me.

But the weather gods are fickle. They like to go all out and show what they are made of.

So I’ll say it again publicly, “I’m So Very Sorry! Its All My Fault. I should watch out for what I say in case the weather gods are listening. And I shall in future.”

Sincerely, Lady Euphoria

On Slob Me:

I have learned I am a slob when I’m laid up. Clean up from my ‘sit and heal my bumps and bruises’ has taken me all day yesterday. That and the piles of dirty dishes and laundry. I didn’t even turn on my computer yesterday. Admittedly, I’m still slow going since my fall. But that is no excuse.

This little corner of my world was centered on my chair in front of my Wii game. There was a litter and left over pile, a mess ring around it.

It looked like a poorly maintained frat house zone.

Mountain Man was not doing his regular clean up for and around me this time because he was on sick dog duty. So I got to see just how much of a slob I am when I‘m not mobile.

The last of the scabs have come off of my nose, after my kissing the concrete floor. My knee is doing much better and I’m now able to walk /stand for up to fifteen minutes at a time.

The only part of me that still looks bad is my scrapped shin. It is still red and bruised and scabby.

Its not like I sat and did nothing all day. I just didn’t do it in my laid up zone where I just plopped my sad self. I propped up my knee on pillows, played video games and ate milk shakes to my hearts content.

So, I’ll have to change my approach to my personal healthcare. I can’t be a slob when I’m laid up, just because I have gotten away with it in the past.

On Lost In Sim-ulation:

I finally got close enough to my new computer to load ‘The Sims.’ Hours of downloads, patches and improvements before I could really play them.

I own all of Sims 1 and Sims 2, and some of Sims 3.

And yes, I play with them all.

Sims One is comical.
Sims Two is rich in relationships.
Sims Three is evolving.
And I must say, much better now that there are so many patches fixing the problems. (I still don’t like how you loose so much progress when you change families in Sims 3.)

I do have a liking for the little people in my Sims world. I don’t know if it is mothering or being a goddess of all power in their world, but I can’t get enough of it.

It is a Goth world and that helps. I can work in the morgue, be as kind or mean as I like. Rewards come with hard word and consequences are sprinkled out in good order.

Not to say that there are no surprises, because there are. And of course death comes. It comes with haunting and headstones or reanimations. Zombies or not it can be interesting.

I wouldn’t want to be a Sim. But ruling their world is what I call a good time. And the time does go. Flies by in large amounts.

Well now that I am reacquainted with my little friends I need to get a few other things done. We are pulling up the old carpet (From back in the seventies.) in the living room and fixing the floor under it, sections at a time. I hope it is all done by New Years Eve.

But I‘ll have to keep my head out of The Sims if that is going to happen.

Think I can do it? Time will tell.