Whacky Wednesday

At least everyone tells me this is Wednesday.  I’m turned around and upside down, so if someone told me it’s Fonzday I wouldn’t be surprised.  And, to be honest, I was once madly in love with “the Fonze”.  I see him on TV commercials now and he ain’t the Fonze any more.

001  My knife skills haven’t improved much,  but I still sliced a tomato to put on my cheeseburger for lunch today.  Used mozzarella cheese because that was the first I came to.  Really should have dug deeper for the pepper jack, but the weather has changed and my forecasters (otherwise known as joints) started cussing me out when I moved around a lot.  I think Papa and Grandmother used to call it rheumatiz.  I have another name for it, but prefer to keep this rated G.

So far today I have had several shocking episodes in my life.  First when I turned on the lights in the kitchen.  Then when I turned on the light in the bathroom.  Next when I turned on the lights in the computer room.  It would be fun to see those little sparks fly if it weren’t for the little static shock they deliver each time.  I’ve used every kind of anti-static product I can find, but I’m really a hot mama when it comes to light switches.

Remember that small glass of vodka I had setting out for later?  It’s all gone now.  And I didn’t get a drop of it.  My cleaning lady is always here before my brain is in full gear, and as I was waking up I saw her pick the glass up and toss the contents down the drain before my voice started working.  Complete disaster.  I really intended to rub it in my shoulder — for medicinal purposes.  When I was growing up, a traveling salesman came thru every summer, and Mom would buy a years supply of Black Diamond Lineament.  I think it was actually horse lineament, but she used it on all of our cuts and bruises, and it worked.  Wish I could find some now, but I’m sure they have gone out of business, and I don’t think I would trust any other brand of horse lineament.  Fortunately, all the people in the area bought the same stuff, so we all went to school smelling the same.  A little horse, I mean hoarse.

Awkwardbad day I found these on Facebook and got a kick out of them.  Actually stayed up all night wondering how that horse got stuck that way, and almost wishing it would kick the laughing cow.  I’m not a big fan of cows.  When I had my garden in the country, I would check the sweet corn closely when it was almost time to pick it.  The beasts, I mean beef also checked it.  So the during the night, before I got up at 4 a.m. to pick the corn, they knocked the fence down and started feasting.  I always got enough for the year, but if I had a shotgun, they would have been hamburger.  Well, more likely, I would have been hamburger, because I would probably aimed the wrong end at the cows.  And I’ve heard the kickback would have had me on my butt in the mud — unless I was turned to girl-burger.   You never really know about that.

I took photography at one time, learning to develop and print my own black and white pictures.  They were okay, but when the time came to mat them?  Mmm, let’s just say the guy teaching the class called it a crooked eye.  A nice way of saying I can’t draw a straight line even using a ruler.  Or a guillotine cutting machine.  So I tried to draw once, since that is usually done with crooked lines.  Big surprise.  I can draw a crooked line either.

Time for another nap.  I know it’s daylight savings time, but the clock on my wall is out of reach, so I won’t be back in the right time zone for a few more months.  Didn’t exactly spring forward, so I won’t get to fall back.

A.

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6 responses to “Whacky Wednesday

    • Wow, Mark, they really still make it? Marion FEED Mill? You know what a feed mill is? A place to buy horse food. I think I will check it out and see if they deliver. Marion is in far western KY, and a funny thing about it is that when I worked for Hospice, one of my patients was the former singing sheriff (honest) of Marion Co. He went on to become a U.S. Marshall, and a close friend of my son-in-law’s grandfather, who was the longest sitting Federal Judge in history. And oh, the stories the Marshall could tell. I feel another blog coming on.

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