Fleetingly Carol

     I am finally over the creepy crawly crud! I am back on track and in the middle of a passel of birthdays, one last week, one tomorrow and a third next week, but none of them are mine. That's OK, really, because birthdays around our house can be sort of crazy. And sometimes, you just don't want to be on the receiving end of our birthday wishes.      Take, for instance, when Old Man officially became 'Old Man' on his fiftieth birthday. Now, Old Man does not like surprises, birthdays or parties. So what's a person to do? Why, surprise him with a birthday party, of course.      When I say Old Man does not like surprises, you may imagine that he gets a little upset, acts like he doesn't like the surprise and all, but, you would be wrong. Old Man gets absolutely violent when he is surprised. Dragging him to parties takes more energy than I have anymore. And his attitude about turning 50? Oh, he would not discuss it. So, a surprise birthday party is just what m

   I am back from the dead. That is to say I am vertical and actually feeling some better. The cold from hell visited me the last 2 weeks. It's been bad. I've stayed home from work, my chores around the house didn't get done. The only laundry that has been washed is what Old Man and I desperately need. I tried to talk him into driving the 20 mile round-trip to a store to buy new underwear so I wouldn't have to wash any (remember, Old Man doesn't know how to operate the washer, his eyes glaze just thinking about it). Old Man picked up on the cooking, which is a good thing, because I wasn't eating. If I had to fix his meals along with washing his underwear, he would soon tire of peanut butter sandwiches. The upshot is I think I’ve lost about 10 pounds.    I spent most of my days in my recliner in the den surrounded by tissue, cough drops, tissue, a glass of water, tissue, cold medicine, tissue, the remote (yes, Old Man gave it up just for me), tissue, DVDs, tiss

I've been thinking a lot about chicken lately. I'm ready to eat some after a week of Christmas ham. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love to eat ham, but a week's worth is quite enough, thank you. I was telling my friend how I wish I had a chicken sandwich, to which she replied that she didn't care if she never saw another chicken. I thought that was a rather curious statement, so I made the mistake and asked her why. "Oh, no, you want to eat chicken, I couldn't tell you, it's too awful." "Sounds like a challenge to me, try me." Those are words I should never have uttered. I will try to recount her story as best as I am able, but you really had to be present to get the full gist of the story. Oh, and make sure you aren't eating any chicken, or anything for that matter. It seems that one very hot, dry summer, chickens were dropping like flies. They succumbed to the extraordinary heat and lack of rain. So, of course, chicken was ridiculo