Fleetingly Carol

I don't want to complain about the weather.  Each day brings its own weather pattern and each weather pattern is for the good of the earth, even the hurricanes, tornadoes and earthquakes. No matter how uncomfortable, I try not to complain. Sometimes, like right now, it is impossible. It is the middle of August. I expected heat. In fact hot August is here. I drink lots of water. I make certain the animals have access to fresh water and are in a cool place. Dear Reader, I reside in the South of the good ol' U. S. of  A. I expect heat in the middle of August. What I don't expect is the air conditioner to quit spreading its cooling atmosphere in my home. Ugh! Thankfully, I have a job that is located in an air-conditioned building. I have been working late into the night lately.  Oh, it’s not that I want to escape the heat and be a solid support for Old Man as he figures out what to do about the situation, its that I have THAT MUCH WORK! It never ends - the reports, the or

So many books . . . so little time. This saying is printed over and under a stack of books, screen printed on a sweatshirt my friend wears from time to time. I used to think the saying was cutesy, funny. Ah, dear Reader, no more. I have a stack of books on my nightstand and the table beside my easy chair. I thought I would get smart and check some from the library, only to have them become overdue because I wouldn't return them. Then, ebooks came along. I could carry my books with me wherever I went. I have thousands of them now. Another friend refurbished her house recently. She exposed the studs and put little shelves between them, shelves just deep enough for the standard paperback novel. She has these shelves throughout her house, including the bathroom. I am jealous. Old Man says it's perfect insulation. Old Man complains about my books.  He says if I bring one more book into the house, it will fall down. Well, of course, Old Man doesn't think the house will fa

Beauty relief (as opposed to comic relief) If you have not had the opportunity to read Fleeting Waterworks, you should do that right now. It will be necessary in understanding Fleeting Waterworks Revisited. Go ahead. I'll wait. La dee da da. La dee da. La dee da  ^da^  da dee da da da. Are you finished already? Ok, let's go. As you can see, I have weak, um, er, pipes. Oh, the trouble this causes. Have you ever been talking to someone and they suddenly cut the conversation and disappear? You thought you had said something to offend, didn't you? Well, dear Reader, I can assure that the most likely cause of the sudden departure was a weak floor. I have the very bad habit of waiting until it is almost too late before I get up to do anything about the overflow. I like to get things done in as timely manner as possible. When I stand up to use the facilities, I also like to have a plan of further action that makes it worth getting up from my comfortable chair. The

The Devil had passed, but not Princess’ memory of him. She stayed with the shakes, like the DTs. She shook so violently inside the crate, I was afraid for her.  The wild dog came out in her as we tried to approach the crate to check on her wounds. We couldn’t open it for fear that she would escape and try to dig a hole in the floor or couch again. Old Man and I decided it was time to call Eldest Son. He told us that if we couldn’t keep her, call him. We couldn't and we did. Eldest Son had just lost his job, his car was repossessed and was in no way able to come to our aid. He lived several states away. We talked and we cried. We came up with this solution and that solution, but none were acceptable. He finally said the most feared words, words that I knew were coming, but didn’t want to accept. He had a friend who practiced veterinary medicine and who lived close to us. Eldest Son said he would make the call. As we were talking, Eldest Son was on speaker-phone so Old Man cou

         The trees did their voodoo dance, conjuring up a thunderstorm to rain down on our little house. Old Man was on the lawn tractor, completely oblivious to the warning signs, ears plugged up with strains of Satchmo. The first drops of rain on his glasses sent him into action.           He drove the lawn mower across the yard and into the shed, hopped off and ran to Poor Hound Dog who is being treated for heart worms. He wanted to get him into the house before he became too excited about the Devil bearing down. He glanced in Princess Super-girl's pen to make sure she was secure and safe. Leading Poor Hound Dog across the yard, Old Man remembered the windows were down in his truck. Remembering the windows down in his truck led him to look over at the neighbor’s vehicle to check their windows. They were down. Now it was a race to the finish.            Poor Hound Dog had to be kept very calm, because any active behavior may break up a clump of heart worms in his veins tha

Eldest son gave Old Man and me a gift that keeps on giving. And, for no reason! It wasn't Christmas, an anniversary or either of our birthdays. My mother would say he's awfully 'thoughty'. And it was a tremendous gift! One that I would not have ever thought to get for myself. The gift is about 2 feet tall and weighs around 45 to 50 pounds. It leaps tall buildings and stops a speeding bullet. No, that's not right. It leaps hurricane fences and scales 6 foot tall dog runs. And stops at nothing to get in the house when someone is shooting a gun, or there is thunder, or the door is open, or another dog has entered the house. Any of these reasons. Yes, you've guessed it - it's a dog. A Catahoula Leopard Dog, to be exact! Old Man and I already have 2 dogs. Girlie-Girl is a 25 pound Heinz 57 and looks like a big Miniature Pincher. She is very well behaved, never jumps up on people; she doesn't bark much; she's small and compact; she comes when she

When Old Man was Young Man and the kids were younger - when the world was new and all, dinners could sometimes be very, oh, what's the word? tense. Ours was a very nontraditional dinner-time. We ate with one another with no television running in the background for distraction. This, Dear Reader, is ancient history, not even cable or dish networks had been invented, much less the Internet, computers and cell phones. I don't know how families do it these days. Why, I was on that very popular social website (which I can't name because of the Terms of Service on Blogger, the hosting website for this blog. I am not allowed to say their name, or any product name, for that matter). Anyway, here I was reading all the posts by family and friends, when a new one from Son came through. It simply said, "Daughter, get downstairs, dinner is ready." Not 2 seconds later, Daughter posted, "But, Dad, I'm right in the middle of a school project." Her father's res

I better hurry up and get the second part of this story written. The second Belly Dancing class is the day after tomorrow. I know I'll have so much more to write about! And, I've been practicing the Hip Snap, the Figure Eight and the Snake Arms all week. At the first class last week, after the warm-up exercises, which included things like reaching for the sky and head wagging, I raised my hand to ask when our sitting break would be, but she didn't see me. She moved right on into the Hip Snap. The Hip Snap? This is the part that Old Man didn't want to see. This is also the part that I observed my first day of watching this class. Imagine 5 women standing side by side, each doing the following: In the proper posture, standing straight, feet below the hips, knees slightly bent, chest up, shoulders back, we were to push the right hip slightly to the right and flex the glute (that's a nice way of saying the butt muscles). Then push the left hip slightly to the left and

Natural, medium, neutral, brown In spite of brown ears and scalp, in spite of Old Man really wanting to mow the lawn in 100+ degree weather rather than help me color my hair, the color, as you can see turned out fairly well. Now, dear Reader, I know that's a blurry picture, but I just need you to get this color fixed in your head. It is, as it says on the box "natural, medium, neutral, brown". Honest. That was the name of the color on the box. And, that is the color you see on the left. Girlie-Girl Can you picture this on Girlie-girl? Yes, that was our surprise! Wherever you find me, you will find my sweet little puppy, Girlie-Girl. You've read about her right her on the Fleetingly Carol blog. She's my froo-froo dog that isn't really. It's a rule that froo-froo dogs must be under 10 pounds and Girlie-Girl weighs in at a hefty 10 1/2 pounds. I'll put her on a diet when she reaches 11 pounds, so her poor belly won't scrape the ground.   Girlie

Dear Reader, Who among you remembers "Only her hairdresser knows for sure"? If you do, raise your hand. Aha! You have just aged yourself! Well, dear Reader, that's perfectly alright, because I just admitted my age as well. When that commercial came out on television, our family had only 2 channels from which to choose. We children were our parents remote control. When Dad said, "Carol, turn the TV over," he did not mean to flip the television on its head. He meant to change the channel to the only other station we had. Well, enough about how old I am. I believe I've just established that I'm old enough to be going gray, but not old enough to look good at being gray, hence, 'only my hairdresser knows for sure'. I'm just a little gray around the temples.That's my story and I'm sticking to it. My hairdresser died with the dinosaurs and no one has seen my natural hair color since Women's Suffrage. In these tough economic times,

Happy Easter, Dear Reader! The Lord is Risen, Alleluia! I spent today with family, as I dearly hope all of you were able to do. Easter is a very special time. Our children would like to think that it all boils down to the Easter Bunny hiding eggs and leaving candy. Sometimes, I'm tempted to agree with them, especially about hazelnut and chocolate. Especially the hazelnut spread that has a hint of cocoa in it. This spread is not for the faint-of-heart! The following incident happened to a professional. Remember DO NOT try this at home. I joined Young Man on a tour of duty overseas where the delicious spread was commonplace - we had yet to hear of it in the United States. I was 9 months pregnant with our first child. I weighed 135 at the beginning of that pregnancy and topped out at 199. It was ALL because of the hazelnut spread. I scoured our apartment for pfennigs until I found enough to walk down the street to a Bäckerei to buy a loaf of hard bread. It was in this Bäckerei t

Is it too late to teach an old dog new tricks? I ran into a perfectly lovely lady today, of whom I have just a mild acquaintance. It was in one of those big box stores. You know the kind, they have groceries and nails; dog food and rat poison; delicate cafe curtains and tires. One stop shopping they call it. I call it a pain in the foot! We had a perfectly lovely conversation about why we were buying the items that were in our buggy. She was looking for a closet organizer system. I was looking for plumber's putty, that was after I picked up a dozen eggs and milk. After a few minutes of light conversation, my acquaintance said that she needed to go, that her husband would be looking for her shortly. "Wait," I said, "Your husband is in the store with you right now?" "Why, certainly. He needed some string for his lawn trimmer. Why?" "Well, my husband is the one who needs the plumber's putty. I'm not about to get under the kitchen si

     It was Old Man's birthday the other day. He turned old as dirt. He was old as rocks only a few years ago. And before that by a few years, he was old as boulders. So, his favorite birthday cake is carrot cake. Now, I suppose I could go to the local bakery and buy a nice carrot cake, but I had the time off, so I thought I would delight him with my culinary skills. I do not possess many skills needed in the kitchen, but I can make a mean carrot cake.    Having baked the cake, I skimped on dinner - I ordered delivery pizza. Old Man is married to Old Woman. I no longer want to put that much time into cooking a meal that will be eaten in ten minutes.      The carrot cake was impeccable. It was moist, fluffy, and smelled of spices and carrots. Old Man arrived home, and after the succulent odors accosted his nostrils, he praised his wife's culinary skills! And pronounced that he would eat the carrot cake this very minute to prove his elation over this most mouthwatering of bir

     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

This frigid weather and George II nestled in my lap, a furry ball of feline keeping me warm, reminds me of his predeccessor (but not related) and how we came to be adopted by her. We used to, when Old Man was Young Man, and the kids were little and all, live in an apartment complex that was 3 stories high, no elevater and each apartment opened out into a common stairwell. Two apartments shared each landing and the stairwell, although not heated, was closed to the elements. Which, at this time of year was good because the city in which we lived was being strangeld by a blizzard, much as the country was a day or two ago. In the middle of this frightful blizzard, I heard a child crying and it seemed to be coming from the stairwell. After checking to make sure my own children were ok, I went looking for who could possibly be making that noise, only to find a half-starved, almost frozen tabby whose meows sounded like the baby I thought I heard. I knew no one in the stairwell owned a cat

"Carol, you need to come home right away." "What's the matter, Old Man?" The quiver in his voice is spine-tingling. Old Man never quivers. "Just come home. You need to be here." I tell Aunt Mildred that something is wrong at home, I don't know what. "You all can stay here tonight. I have 2 extra bedrooms." "Thank you, Aunt Mildred," I answer, "But, I don't know what the problem is. We may have to take you up on that offer. I'll call you later tonight." I get to my car as quickly as possible, fearing the worst. As I drive up in the driveway, I see Old Man struggling with a small tarp. Now, I am thoroughly confused. I park the car so that my headlights shine on his work. "What's up?" I ask, "Why do you need the tarp right away?" Old Man looks really, really old. He looks up and tells me he's covering the windshield of his pickup to prevent ice from accumulating. You see

Now, I'm sure you know that I have always put Old Man first in my life. And his family always came after that. I never turned down an invitation, never missed a nephew or niece's wedding, was always ready, able, and willing to do whatever I could to make Old Mans' parents happy and comfortable. And so I was horrified when I almost killed Old Man, Sr. There was not enough life insurance on him for it to have occurred any other way than accidental. There was a time before seat-belt laws. I know it's hard to believe, but there was a time when I was young and stupid. Also believe it or not, there was a time before cell phones and Internet. I'm almost embarrassed to write this story. But, here goes . . . Once upon a time, I was traveling in a pickup truck with Old Man, Sr. and three small children. I drove while Old Man, Sr. rode shot gun and the three children rode between us, all of us gleefully free of any encumbrances such as silly old seat belts. About an hour

Old Man got loose again this weekend. It wasn't my fault. Although, I did remind him to watch where he was going when walking through crowds and wash his hands when he was finished in the portalet. He likes the little reminders. We went to a street fair this weekend where Old Man had rented booth space so he could sell things men like to buy, like flags, and ballcaps, and knives. I went along so that Old Man wouldn't have to worry about the little things, like watching out for pedestrians while he's driving or figuring out how to display his wares. Even though I know he appreciates my efforts tremendously, he rearranged the flags because he's just like that. When everything was just as Old Man wanted it to be, he excused himself to use the portalet. He asked if I'd be alright by myself because he'd be 'gone awhile', and we all know what that means. I assured him I'd be alright and that was also when I reminded him about being careful walking thro

I had a moment today where I really wanted to crawl under the floor. Do you, Dear Reader, ever say something that you wish you could take back almost as the words are leaving your mouth? And there is no graceful way to recover. I went into work today feeling quite under the weather. My sinuses were so filled and stopped up, my head felt like it was twice its normal size, it hurt with every move I made, and my equilibrium was non-existent. When I am feeling like this, everyone around me knows it, I can't hide it. I should have stayed in bed, but I had an appointment at work with someone who drove some distance and stayed in a hotel room the night before. I couldn't just stay in bed. That would require another day's stay.  Hmmm, the couple was selling insurance that I wanted to know about . . . Perhaps, I should have stayed in bed! I went into work, sat down with this couple as they spread papers all over the table. Then they launched into their sales pitch and I began to

Aunt Mildred is doing well. Thanks to all of you who have enquired about her health after her stroke some weeks ago. Old Man and I have been trying to see her every evening we are able. Sometimes, though, Old Man is just too weary to visit very long. You know, he works very hard and very long hours. But, he insists on visiting Aunt Mildred after a long shift, and I know it has nothing to do with me reminding him that Aunt Mildred is 88 years old and has just had a stroke. He insists because that's just the way he is. Seeing Aunt Mildred every evening possible makes it almost impossible to keep up with normal household chores. Old Man is very good at pitching in. I know I don't have to ask him every time, but I know it makes him feel better when I do. Take the other night, for instance. He went to see Aunt Mildred after a long day at work. It is very tiring to sit in the cold air conditioning day in and day out, with nothing to do but type on a computer. There we sat in he