Posted in Musings and Mutterings

My Dream Man

I’ve searched about on the web to see if I could find a picture of my dream man, but I can’t seem to find one. I found some extremely good looking men, but none that matched the man I dreamed about. Seems funny, but since I dreamed such an intimate dream about him, I figured I must have seen him somewhere before, but I did not even recognize him in my dream, so maybe he was a newbie.

I dreamed that I was subbing at an old job of mine to help out a friend. The place had changed drastically in both size and color, but some of the same people were there. I completed the work she had for me and decided to check at the front desk to see where they would like me to put my work away. As I approached the front desk, I remember having to duck under some wiring and to avert my face and squeeze my eyes closed as I passed a group of police officers who were all carrying fishing poles with wildly swinging hooks and lures.(C’mon now, this is one of *my* dreams so you knew something had to be odd!)

The front desk looked like a long counter, similar to the front desk in a large hotel. Just as I was approaching, a gust of wind came from nowhere and blew some papers about. Little slips of paper and shrieking women went scuttling across the desks. I waited for a moment at the desk while the blond haired girl began to get her items back in order. When she looked up at me, I said that I had finished my work and was wondering where she would like me to put it, because I know how it can be there. She just looked at me with a blank stare. I introduced myself and told her that I had worked there previously. Before I could finish my sentence, she said in a clipped tone, “I know who you are.” I was not upset by this. In fact I was in a jolly good mood. The girl looked back down at her desk and I got the impression that my query was the least of her problems. I could feel someone else behind me in line and I noticed a friend leaning on the counter where it ran adjacent to the wall. I decided to step aside and allow the person behind me to speak with the girl.

He stood there in a chocolate colored suit with a tan turtleneck. His hair was dark brown, almost black and a little long, but not effeminate. He turned to look at me and had the darkest blue eyes and a truly devastating smile. Wow! At the time, he just seemed to be a nice man, so I smiled back at him and joked about the counter help since they were still having issues. He turned his head to look at me and I felt faint because he was just so beautiful. He said to me, “You could introduce yourself.” As I did, someone said something to him and he looked away. I didn’t find this offensive, in fact I laughed about it and decided to tease him about it as he looked back my way. I was still laughing when I asked him if he was going to introduce himself. He just stepped slightly behind me and to the side so that his arm snaked around my midsection and pulled me close. He was so warm. This was not a sexual contact. This was a contact that seemed so real that I could still feel him when I woke up. As he stood there, holding me, I felt calm and secure and happy. When he stepped away, the warmth stayed with me. He smiled and started to apologize and I told him not too. I remember saying that the experience had been like an intimate body kiss, without lips or sexual intention. It had been a soul touch and I thanked him for it. He just smiled at me.

When I woke up, I was still warm where he had leaned into me and I felt happy and whole. In fact, I’ve felt very energized and involved in my world today. So to the man of my dreams, I again thank you.

Posted in Musings and Mutterings

The Popes’ Spies

We like to feed the birds and squirrels in our yard, although I have put down an edict that come spring, the feeders that are currently hanging on two posts of our deck MUST BE moved to hooks in the yard. Feeding birds is a very, very messy hobby. On Sunday last, there were no visitors to my feeder when I noticed it was beginning to flurry outside. Fifteen minutes later, the snow had picked up, which means it’s time for some kind of warm beverage to sip on while you watch it come down, so I went to the kitchen to get some tea.

That’s when I noticed the spies. Eighteen brilliant red spies alight in my Mulberry bush. (Ok, it’s a freaking 25 ft tree, but a landscaper told me it was a Mulberry bush and until it’s otherwise identified, that’s what I’m calling it!) I got my camera to prove to the world that the Pope really did care about what I was doing on a snowy Sunday afternoon and the above picture is the best I could do from 40 feet away, in my house, through a glass door covered with dog drool, with a digital camera that has a cheesy optical zoom and my stability help was the door-frame.

Suddenly, it was a deluge of birds!! The more it snowed, the more showed up! Beyond the 18 male Cardinals, there were about as many brown females. And then this woodpecker showed up!!

It was nice to see such an abundance of nature.

Posted in Musings and Mutterings

My Neighbors

I don’t live in the country, however I do live in one of the few areas left without a Home Owners Association, which means that my new neighbors may have this chicken walking around their yard. It’s kind of nice having poultry 3 doors down. I now know that if I get just a little bit behind on the bills, I don’t have to worry about where my next meal is coming from. I sent my husband to snap a photo of our little main course yesterday and the coq au vin was so interested in my co- I mean rooster- that she followed him around until he finally got closer to the dog. I think she just wanted to make sure he got a picture of her good side.

Posted in Musings and Mutterings

And a Good Time Was Had By All

Where to start?

Yesterday was the big Ravens Vs. Colts game. Not that I really care about football, I just mention it because it became a large part of my day. In the early afternoon, I went to a baby shower for the daughter in law of a friend. I know the friend well, I barely know the daughter in law. The relationship between the two of them is best described as tense. Given that, I still had fun. I won a few games (I beat out 8 other woman in draining 2 ounces from a baby bottle… I guess I suck!) and tried to keep my friend in the buffer zone by being the “friendly one” of our little group. (The concept being that if you are already on the outs with your in laws, why give them more fuel for their feud by being dark, brooding and making loud commentary about what annoys you- even if you have good reason to be annoyed) So, I tried to make light of many of the barbs and smiled a lot. My friend is a big football fan and wanted to be home in time for the big game, so as the baby shower continued to creep closer to 4:30, my group got more and more agitated and wanted to leave. (I guess now would be the place to mention my friends son had basically ordered my friend to stay for the whole shower before he left, no matter what. And can I just slip in here that he made it a point to make his intense displeasure known that my friend had worn her Ravens shirt to the party?) Needless to say, I was a bit rundown from all this pass interference I had been running all afternoon, so when I was being dropped off at my door and saw that my husband (who had told me earlier that I didn’t need keys) was not home and that I was locked out of my house, I was not happy. So, I gathered my loot and sat on the porch until he came home.

By this time the Big Game had been going for awhile and it didn’t seem as though the Ravens were doing so well. The big fear my husband had planted in my mind earlier in the week was that if the Ravens lost this game, Baltimore would be a town over run with madness and mayhem and angry fans. I guess it’s not out of the realm of possibility, but I didn’t think it would happen. Nevertheless, I didn’t want my evening plans (or the people I was going out with) jeopardized by FAN-atics. I was supposed to go downtown with Jenny and Dave for dinner and the comedy club but because of the impending doom of the Ravens, we decided to stay around here and then check on the news after the game ended to see if we could make the late show at the comedy club. We decided on Chinese for dinner and went to a local restaurant where we had a lovely dinner and Jenny opened her gift. ( 1 hot tub, 1 laser vision correction kit, 1 pony named Faux, some lo carb food that tasted good and 80 Maryland quarters with a chance to make them a bazillion, all wrapped up with a balloon tied to it.) The biggest stipulation for the evening was that she keep her balloon with her for the rest of the night! After dinner we returned to my house to catch any news on the downtown conditions and caught a few minutes of NCSI, in which their murder victim was a stripper who was cooking on a searchlight. They had her complete with smoke and a sizzling sound. For some reason, this was hilarious to Jenny and I – could it have been the drink we had at dinner?- and for the rest of the night we cracked jokes about it.

Seeing no murder and mayhem in Baltimore, we decided we would try to go to the late show at the comedy club. Jenny had some All You Can Drink coupons she wanted to use. We got to the club with no problems and it was pretty neat to see the town all decked out in their purple lights. It was almost leery. After waiting in line for a few minutes we were ushered to the FRONT ROW CENTER of the club. Now a huge fear of mine is to be front row center of anything that might generate attention on me by large groups of people, so front row center at a comedy club starts to make me feel hotter than a stripper on a searchlight. (szzzzz) We take our seats, place our orders and Jenny decided that she’d like her balloon tied onto her wrist so that she doesn’t obstruct anyone else’s view. Happy to oblige I helped her tie one on… in more ways than one.

The comedians were pretty good and one made fun of Jenny’s balloon saying that the “special kids” would get one. But he followed that up by asking her if she felt that the guy sitting next to her was her soul-mate (oops! it was her brother). Having that backfire, he asked if she would be number 51 in his harem of wimmenz assuming her brother would let her…. to which Dave motioned that he was welcome to her!! Once the show was over, we came to the realization that since I had tied the balloon to her wrist, there was no way for Jenny to put on her coat, but no matter, it was January in Maryland, so it was balmy and warm out. (hasn’t the weather been NUTS?) We walked back to the car and rode the garage-go-round (Frank thought the exit was at the top of 10 floors… how silly of him) and then started home. Jenny and I were more than a bit tipsy and Jenny was making commentary about all the things she couldn’t do since she had a balloon tied to her wrist, emphasizing each word with a jerky motion of the balloon. Just as she uttered the words, ” Because I have this stupid balloon tied around my wrist!”, the balloon came free of its ribbon and floated forward to bounce next to Dave in the front seat of the car. It was classic. Jenny and I just couldn’t stop laughing.

Two completely different kinds of celebration and quite a long day, but in the end, I think a good time was had by all. (except maybe for the sizzilin’ stripper! szzzzzz)

Posted in Musings and Mutterings


“I believe the single most significant decision I can make on a
day-to-day basis is my choice of attitude. It is more important than
my past, my education, my bankroll, my successes or failures, fame
or pain, what other people think of me or say about me, my
circumstances, or my position. Attitude keeps me going or cripples
my progress. It alone fuels my fire or assaults my hope. When my
attitudes are right, there’s no barrier too high, no valley too
deep, no dream too extreme, no challenge too great for me.
Words can never adequately convey the incredible impact of our
attitude toward life. The longer I live the more convinced I become
that life is 10 percent what happens to us and 90 percent how we
respond to it.”
– Charles Swindoll

“There is no “have to” in the journey of life. You don’t “have to” do anything…nothing, nada, zip, zilch. You can either choose to do it or you can choose the consequences.”

– Pat Crose

Posted in Musings and Mutterings

Still Clearing Clutter

My bedroom has never had a coat of paint on it since the day this house was built 21 years ago. It still has the primer. My room has never been at the top of the list for care and attention. The kids and the rest of the house all took precedence and since I’m married to a pack rat, the master bedroom quickly became a storage area with a bed.
When a neighbor that I had been helping out passed away, I became the executor of her estate and had to clean out her house. Having no living immediate family and having been an avid preservationist of family history and collector of object d’art, I had a rough time figuring out how to best distribute her life. It was not easy. Shortly after I had finished clearing out and selling her house, my father became ill and passed away and 11 months later, my mother joined him, leaving my childhood home in need of clearing. Again, I had to figure out a way to part with someone lifetime of belongings. At that point, I determined that I did not want my children to have MOUNDS of things to go through. It is an overwhelming task. Besides, who really needs half the stuff they have in storage anyway? So for the past year I have been tackling each room in my house and doing some major editing of my stuff. A very wise person once said to me that we never really own anything, we just take care of it for a while.
The tricky part comes in when I’m willing to part with things that seem extraneous to me, but not to the pack rat I married. He loves to keep everything. In his defense, he seems to be truly working towards reducing. He gave our son a pair of steins yesterday. I know that was difficult for him. He’s been collecting aviation items for YEARS and now he’s come to the realization that his collection is really just Jr.’s safety deposit box for what will one day become Jr’s collection! But I digress…
I had been living without living room furniture for a year when I finally bought a sofa and chair and moved the TV back into the living room. True the walls still have sample paints on them, but the general consensus is that it is much more comfortable. It will be the last room in the house to be completed, but since there is so much stuff here, it’s like a gigantic puzzle piece to work in any one room at a time and to determine the logistics of where everything will go until that room is complete!
For the past week, I’ve been sorting and sifting in my room and I’m pleased to announce that I have finally cleared off the dresser, and unearthed a corner of the room from the massive amount of books we had collected. My ultimate goal is to rid my self of the old heavy furniture and paint the room. I’m not sure what kind of items I’ll put back in my room, but I know it won’t be nearly as heavy as what I had. I hate clutter and disorganization and would love to create a room where I can feel relaxed and serene.

Posted in Musings and Mutterings

Duh-ancing in My Kitchen

For YEARS we have used the kitchen as our personal dance floor. The kids and I have twirled in our socks as we baked holiday cookies, Frank and I have done a few twirls across the tile as well including dips (which thankfully, he never dropped me on). I probably dance in the kitchen the most. I crank the music, do the dishes and clean the counters and living room, the whole time swaying and bouncing in my happy music world. To say that I love dancing in my kitchen is an understatement.

Today, I was playing the album Risotto, by Fluke, a heavy beat dark electronica that’s great to dance to for most of the album. I had just finished the dishes and decided to close my eyes and just go wherever the music took me. Once I get moving, I am an energetic dancer, lots of hip shaking and bouncing going on there :)!

Imagine my surprise, as I was grooving in my trippy zen state of dance, the shock of a loud CRRRAAASH bringing me back to the present. I opened my eyes to find shards of Pfaltzgraff pottery completely surrounding me. And I’m not kidding, I was standing in a little oasis of clean tile floor in my bare feet surrounded by an ocean of pottery bits which were the remains of a HUGE platter I had on display atop a shelf approximately 5 feet off the floor. Imagine the impact of this heavy platter as it fell 5 feet and exploded it’s energy and various sized pieces of sharp earthenware flying everywhere. I found large chunks behind me (I was about 5 feet away from impact) and I found some on the other side of the kitchen island in the dining room. (a good 8 feet from impact)

My thoughts are twofold at this point. DA*#!! I broke the platter that I loved just enjoying myself, doesn’t it just figure?? And, WOW! How in the WORLD did I avoid getting hit with anything and even more WOW… look at this little space all around my bare feet where there is NOT A SINGLE SPECK of anything. I’ve come to the conclusion that it was either my protective kitchen dance fairy who loves to laugh at me when I get moving and wants to make sure I can still amuse her, or it’s the trippy zen state force field I had going while I was grooving. Or just sheer luck….but I don’t think so.

Posted in Musings and Mutterings

Walking and Dust Bunnies

It sure is nice to be loved so well.

Thank you!

I just took a nice brisk walk one and a half times around my double block. Gotta start somewhere. I put on some bouncy music and stepped in time (I feel like I need a chimney sweep in hand when I say that) to the beat. Now I’m all sweaty and I FEEL GOOD! I think walking like that every day would be good. I’m certainly not going to post a photo of me in a bikini, the way a brave friend of mine did, but if I don’t do something, then I have no one to blame but myself if I develop an awful disease or get too stiff to move. As it is, my 19 year old delights in telling everyone that I’m getting “so old” and “can’t do anything anymore.” He’s referring to my recent trip with him to an amusement park where I only went on a few roller coasters with him. Better luck next time, Sean!! (Of course he forgets to mention how we cut the day short because of the fight that broke out in which one person picked up a large metal bar from a clothing shop and slammed it into another guys face and then all kinds of mayhem ensued with guys and girls all duking it out. After which, I humbly begged to be taken home because the behavior was more sickening then the rides were.)

Now for the real exercise, off to chase dust bunnies. I don’t know how they accumulate so darn fast, but my house has ALWAYS been a dust magnet. I don’t care how often I vacuum or dust or sweep, the next day it all looks as though I’ve just moved into a long abandoned house where dust and the bunnies have been living undisturbed for years.