Scrumblies and Glidgets

Gerta, my house, has dandruff.

That's the only conclusion I can come to after wiping down the kitchen countertops and finding the usual assortment of crumblies, microscopic dustballs, idgies, and yes- 'floating' Pepper dog hairs. (I think Pepper is in cahoots with Gerta.)

As I washed off the uck-ies once again (as in every time I wash dishes), I sighed to myself as I hit all the high spots and didn't look too closely in the corners. I have slid down the cleaning ladder when it comes to my old days of personal sparkling and pristine. 

But I have to say..... I simply don't remember past homes being this much of a pain in the behind. Hence back to my new theory of Gerta having some type of household dandruff.  When I think of it this way, all the dust, fuzzies, fine woodburner ash, and countertop yuckies start to make sense. It just keeps drifting down and floating around. And around, and around.

While in some ways thinking of living in a dandruff environment is a bit hideous, it's also a bit comforting that it's out of my control.

I think Gerta is wearing me down.

A Revelation at Perkins

I am now officially a Senior Citizen.

(I still can’t say or think that without giggling.)

Dan tried to tell me I was considered a senior at age 50, since AARP membership is available then.  I told him phooey, since all AARP was trying to do is boost their membership.

I realized I had met this status at a Perkins restaurant.  The senior menu is for folks aged 55 and older. 

And then I realized that other restaurants have the same standard- age 55 is the Year of Cheaper Eating.

I don’t find this revelation depressing; I find it hilarious!  I mean, me, old enough to eat reduced portions at a discount, and old enough to join a senior citizen center. It just seems funny.

I don’t feel like a senior citizen.  I’m not sure if I look like a senior citizen.  But here I am, poised to take advantage of all the good things in old age.

What’s even funnier is at that Perkins restaurant I listened to the muzak and giggled more.  It was mid-afternoon, and most of the people in the restaurant appeared to be my age or older. 

The first song was from the group Yes.  Next was a song from Emerson, Lake and Palmer.  The third song was from the group Bread.

O. M. G.  Music from the 70’s is now Old People muzak.

I asked the waitress if she knew what the songs and groups were.  She didn’t, but knew she had heard them before..... and added, “my parents like songs like that.”

Hee hee, I’m a senior.  And it’s the funniest thing I’ve realized in a long while....

Disrupting the State of the World as We Know It

Each weekday morning, everyone on the ranch meets at 8:00 AM at the work barn to shoot-the-shit and talk about the chores needed for the day. This morning, Dan went alone as I lounged in my jammies and watched the fire in the woodburner as the living room temperature creeped upwards.

“Where’s Sondra ?!?” the startled man-manager asked Dan and Dan said “she said she had the next two days off,” and wife-manager said “yeh, I told her we didn’t have anything to do since the guest cabin is occupied,” and Dan said “I know, I nearly was late because I usually get dressed when she showers, and she didn’t, and I almost ran out of time.”

Now the feng shui (a system of spirit influences for good and evil believed by the Chinese to attend the natural features of landscape) and mountain mojo (essentially the same thing) of our lives has been interrupted. All because of some quality jammie-time. Wolves will slip on the ice, trucks won’t start in the cold, elk will be off their game wandering through fields, and the ranch horses will laugh at the wandering elk ALL BECAUSE of a spontaneous decision to watch the flames dance on the burning logs. Because of a change in the rhythm. A change in the daily-doings of humble me.

Oh! Sweet world! What have I done to thee?

(Right about now Extended Family members are muttering to themselves: “GRAMMAR ERRORS- run-on sentences, and incomplete sentences, and ‘she wrote: sh**?!!?’”, “I don’t get it,” “i think she’s bored,” “she is sounding a little unstable,” and other concerning comments. 

Accept it, folks. This is how I roll now.)

(It’s a ramble, after all. There’ll be more to come. I’m releasing my pent-up scintillating psyche.)

I’ll pay penance for my erudite miss-step and appease the Internet gods by writing Product Descriptions for Overstock.com (using TOTALLY proper grammar AND a Style Guide), and I’ll bless the many wild animals, and I’ll offer a set of jumper cables for any cold, cranky truck, and I'll tell the horses to behave themselves, AND I'll laugh at the wolves and tell them to go away.

And I’ll go to the morning meeting tomorrow. 

Our feng shui will be reinstated.

REAL issues and concerns while the world obsesses about a silly fiscal cliff and the horror of two generals wrapped up in potential, yet-legal feminine foibles.

A Question of Time

Creepy/coincidental things have been happening.

A couple of days ago, BOTH the alarm clocks in our bedroom stopped working.  At the same time.

Yesterday, I put on my wristwatch (which I use only when we’re going to town), and when I checked the time, I found out it had also stopped working.

My thought was: What is the universe trying to tell me?

Answer 1: You’re out of time.

Well, if I kick the bucket, this will make a great story for all of you.  But since it’s definitely not in my plans, and I envision myself as an old lady organizing wheel chair races in the old folks home, I’m obviously not getting the message.

Answer 2: Time is not important.

Life flows on, my life is tiny and just a speck in the big picture of the world, blah, blah, blah.  I get it.  But really, Universe…. Wouldn’t all this be a waste of your time?

Answer 3: There’s a ghost in my house who likes to play with clocks when I’m sleeping.

I can’t totally discount this.  There are s-t-r-a-n-g-e things that have happened on this ranch. But once again, really?  Ghostie, you have unlimited time on your hands.  What’s up?  Do clocks and watches that track time piss you off?

Answer 4: You don’t need to worry about what time it is.

The opposite of answer 1.  That’s a human for you… take a fact, and come up with diametrically opposed positions.  (Hmmm… I think we also call that politics.)  Or- live your life, enjoy each day, and enjoy the blessing of no longer having to deal with multiple deadlines and pressures.

Answer 5: You really don’t have to get up at 6 am every morning.

Ranch life has slowed down with winter approaching, and there’s not a lot to do.  Just live.  But I’ll still get up at 6 am for our morning ritual of coffee and watching the sun rise, so I don’t think that’s it.

Answer 6: Life will happen in its own time.

So maybe, don’t force things.  Quit wasting time thinking about what I must do next in my life. Just go with the flow.  Don’t worry, be happy.  Enjoy the mountains outside.  (I do look at them a lot- the color and light are always changing.)

So, Universe..... what's up?

Thoughts?

?!?Really?!?

I've begun looking for editing/copywriting work online (on a project basis) to take advantage of my experience with such projects, and keep boredom at bay since things have slowed down at the ranch.  There are several websites out in the Internet world that offer such things, and I've already connected with one job that will be on an ad hoc basis.

While there are valid jobs with honest pay, there are also a LOT of projects that get me to giggling.  The ones that offer belittling earnings, ask for ridiculous over-experience, have no back history of of being a legitimate person who actually pays, and think it's normal to ask for the sun, moon and stars. 

I felt compelled to share a couple with you.

The following self-described job posting appeared October 20, just over 2 weeks from the US elections.  The paid rate is $5-$12 an hour:

I am writing a fictional book that I feel will help with this year's election. I am trying to get it finished by this weekend so i can place it on the web or any other form of publication that will be easy for people to see and read right away. I am in need of someone to spell check, proofread and edit this book. It is about 200 pages double spaces. It also has a few small things that need to be researched on google and put in. It needs to be put into order by date. I have the chapters divided but they arent necessarily in the correct order. Im looking for either a graduate student, a professor or someone who is qualified to edit books; a comprehensive editor. I am in a rush to get this book out by Monday, October 22, 2012, so i need someone who is able to spend from now until then correcting all the errors in this book and is absolutely sure that they will be able to have it finished by then. 

This next one has an hourly rate of less than $10 an hour.  Remember that the minimum wage will soon be $7.80 an hour, and note the level of experience needed for the tasks listed:

Virtual Assistant, Personal Assistant, Executive Assistant

Web Design, Email groups, blog content, announcements, event planning, research, document creation, proofreading and editing, publish comment for online discussions, updating blogs, update data base, customer service, invoicing and receiving payments, voice-mail transcription, scheduling interviews and meetings, following up on appointments ,errands, and tasks, create legal documents, market research, business plans, create course outlines, lesson plans.

This one can't pay right away...

I wrote a 44 page, 28,581 word true story. I left home at 9 until the age of 17. It's a story of my adventures as a run-a-way boy. I'm retired on disability with a limited income. Would like a fixed price for the project if possible. I would like to have it published on Amazon Kindle. I may not be able to afford you until Dec.  

Ahhh, humanity...... :)

Wedding Daze? Days? Daize?

My first baby girl is getting married.  And my second baby girl will have her baby girl with her at the wedding! I’m getting excited, and looking forward to a wonderful few days spent with family and friends.

Life is pretty good.  I’ll soon be able to call two fabulous men son-in-laws, both couples have happy established lives, and my granddaughter is just adorable.  I saw little Juno in person when she was 3 months old, and now at a mature 1 year of age, I’m sure she’ll charm us with her almost-walking skills and flirting manner.

There’s nothing like a wedding to get the happy-vibe going.  A celebration of life, lots of smiles, good food, good drink, and a little dancing in between.  This wedding will be flavored with Montana mountains, western BBQ, hairy highland cows in the background, a lovely old dancehall featured in a Robert Redford movie, and bluegrass music before and after the ceremony.

Memories of my babies have been flitting through my head in the last few days. My oldest with her smile and huge blue eyes that saw and understood most everything, my youngest completely contained in a water bucket in her swimsuit, her knees against her chest with a big grin.  The years flew by much faster than I expected, and they grew into lovely women.  My biggest wish was that they would find their path in life and live it with gusto.  I’m happy to say both have been very successful.

On to good, happy times…..

Breast Support

OK, let’s talk about a much-spoken-about yet taboo subject:  those mammary glands of the female form.  While the obsession on these two appendages is rampant among men’s conversations and oodles of porn sites, the practical details on the management and care of the chesty extensions is scant (except for copious amounts of breastfeeding information).

Tits. Boobies. The anatomical term of ‘breasts’. Cha-cha’s. Chi-chi’s. Honkers. Bazooms. Hooters. Gazongas. Assets. Knockers.  The list of fond terms is endless.

My ‘assets’ proudly passed the pencil test until my mid-30’s. (Gents may be a bit lost right now, but ladies know exactly what I mean.)  Of course, pencil test winners are either: a. smaller in size, or b. surgically enhanced (by the way, did you know silicone-added ta-tas don’t need a bra for support?  Awesome…).  Let’s just say the first option was my destiny.

Then came the ‘slight sag’ stage, and Underwires became my friend.  Alas, as years and gravity took their toll, the underwire bras outlived their usefulness- back to the wireless versions of support.

There comes a time in every non-surgically-enhanced woman’s life when the ole’ cleavage becomes cleave-less, bra or not.  The melons pass their prime, and the mountains slide into valleys.  By this time, one is tired of digging straps, scratchy hooks, cup sizes that don’t cup, and elastic bands riding up.

Enter the Genie Bra.

Think of it as coming full circle: it’s reminiscent of the training bras we wore at the beginning of our womanly advance.  I first saw this gizmo on a telemarketing commercial.  Basically it's a one-piece stretchy bra that squishes you into alignment.  No hooks, no tight straps- it’s like a smooth, soft rubber band around your chest section.

To some degree, that squishing will minimize your voluptuousness. 

But when in doubt, fake it.

(After all, millions of women spend thousands of dollars to surgically fake it.)

There’s a little-known item called push-up breast pads one can easily find on the internet.  Two of these babies properly placed under one’s Twins will hoist the lovelies into premium cleavage space.  The Genie bra cuddles all pieces into a snug, comfortable fit.  Wha-la!  Comfort and cleavage.

It’s the poor woman’s way into busty retribution…..