Fleetingly Carol

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

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

     Dear Reader, do you remember the post titled "My Fleeting Labor Day" posted September 6, 2010? If not, I encourage you to go back and read it, for the following story is about the same person. Her identity is hidden for her own protection because my friend is more blond than she pays to be.  Take for instance, her recent trip to the mountains. I would not have discovered this if her husband wasn't such an eavesdropping pea-ninny. My friend and I were having casual conversation over coffee one Saturday morning, talking about our experimental container gardening, pets and the problems inherent with them, husbands and the problems inherent with them. Somehow talk of husbands led into getting away from it all. My friend expressed her desire to see Europe on $100.00 a day, I want to see the northeast U.S. in the fall. The talk turned to driving through mountain passes when her husband entered the room with a wicked look on his face. We didn't realize he w

A very dear friend from childhood came to visit last week. We had not seen each other in several years, although we kept in touch via email and social networks. When she called to say she would be in town, I looked forward to a delightful time reminiscing about old friends, teachers - oh, and old boyfriends we stole from one another.         When we met at the restaurant, I almost didn't recognize her. Her once-cinnamon colored tresses were every color of blond imaginable. And her deep brown eyes had become a strange color of green.          "How do you like my new look?" she beamed.          "Um, wonderful . . . um, beautiful . . . um, why?" I couldn't think of anything else to say.          "Oh, you know."          Oh, I do? I have the same mousey blond hair I was born with.          "We're getting to that age, you know. Where the grays are popping out. Anyway, I always wanted to find out if blonds really did have more fun."

Almost a year ago, I wrote about finding my oldest son in a kitchen cabinet. The story began with a disembodied voice. Well, Dear Reader, this son is now over 30! Since that calamity, there have been new technologies to come out that offers twice the fun at half the effort. Older son telephoned me the other night, but when I answered my phone, all I heard was static. After a few minutes of confusion, I finally heard his laughing voice. He apologized for the static; he said it was caused because he called me on his phone that he forgot was still synced with his Bluetooth ear bud which was in a cabinet. So, the static I was hearing was really Older Son ripping everything apart to find his ear bud. So now he has his story of finding Mom in the cabinet! &#169 2011 Carol Phares

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

Do you realize, Dear Reader, that it has been a full year for my blog! I turned a year old Saturday, the first and didn't even realize it. If I had, I would have written something. My first blog from a year ago was very short, but so full of high hopes! This is all there was: This blog is for fleeting thoughts. Perhaps a better name is "Stream-of-Conscience Thoughts". Because that's what it is. Never a dull moment! At least, I hope not. Doesn't that just melt the socks off your nose? I began this blog for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to think funny thoughts. A lot of serious things were going on in my life - still are- and I felt like I needed comic relief. The second reason for this blog is that it is a tool with which I'm honing my writing skills. I have succeeded in the comic relief, but I'm not so sure about improving my writing skills. Time will tell. So, this blog started out being for just me. But, I have some regular readers now, mos

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

I have done it! On a whim, I joined a gym! I am so excited! The first day I was there, I was amazed by all the machinery. Exercising would be easy, considering the machines will do it for you. I flashed back to a commercial on television when I was a little girl, of a well-shaped young lady advertising a weight loss machine. She stood on what looked like a stationary walking machine, except that she was leaning backward into a sling thing that wrapped around her derriere and the sling vibrated back and forth. I suppose the idea was to shake the fat off. I wonder if many of those sold. But, I digress. I didn't see any of those machines in the gym, but there were lots of others, many of them with weights attached. I imagined that they would stretch me thin. The young lady who was showing me around got on each machine and demonstrated how they worked. I imagined completely wrong! These were machines of torture! I asked the young lady if there wasn't anything I could do to &#

It's two o'clock in the morning and Old Man is fussing at me for being up and on the computer. I'd like to know what he's doing up to be fussing. Shouldn't he be in bed? But, he just worries about me. He can't sleep if he thinks I'm having a bad night. So, right now, he's sitting across the room, fingers drumming the arm of the chair because he knows that helps me keep up with the time better. He's just sweet that way. So, I have to tell you just this one thing, dear Reader. I'm on a very famous and ubiquitous social network, along with Old Man, our children, their spouses and their children, my siblings, my aunts, uncles and cousins and everyone I've known since I was five years old. You know the one. Well, whenever one of my family posts a comment on their page, I receive a text message on my cell phone. My cell phone also doubles as my alarm clock, so it stays by my bedside at night. Two hours ago, a text came in when Dear Daughter pos

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,

My, my! It's been over a month since I've blogged. I can't believe it! Where has the time gone? You might say I've been out galavantin' around. Or, you might say I've been very busy at work and was coming home too exhausted to write. Or, you might say I've been working very hard on the old homestead that I've been wearing myself out. Or, you might say that I've just been loafing around. It sounds very contradictory, but given I haven't been here since the end of June all of those things could have and, indeed did happen. I had a very busy and exhausting summer at work. I mean, you try punching all those numbers in a computer and see how tired you become! Hence, I had to take some time off. I went galavantin' with Older Daughter and her 2 daughters, Granddaughter 1 and Granddaughter 2. (That's not to say they are anything like Thing 1 and Thing 2.) It is especially fun and refreshing to travel with a 5 year old and a 3 year old. Gran

About a month ago, I heard a funny noise coming from the outside of my car as I was driving down the Interstate. It went thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! I slowed down and the thmping stopped. Something was loose, but I didn't know what. By the time I arrived home, I had forgotten all about it. Until the next day, that is. On my way to work, I heard it again - thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! thmp! As I slowed down, I made a mental note to check it out as soon as I got to work. It turned out to be the gasket that surrounds the windshield, it had come loose and was flapping in the wind. I pushed the gasket back into place, making another mental note to drive home by a route other than the Interstate and to take it to the repair shop to have it fixed as soon as I could. A couple of weeks later Old Man asked if I had the windshield fixed. Of course I hadn't. Dear Reader, don't you just hate it when you are treated like a child? That's what I felt like when Old Man told me to get i

I just called time and temp . . . it's 95 degrees. The online weather service says it's 98, with 45% humidity, which translates into a heat index of 102! I don't know the math behind all that, I just know what I read online and report. I'm reporting because I have a dog who thinks the house is too cold. How do I know what my dog is thinking? Well, read the story, then tell me what you think she's thinking: It's 2:00 p.m. and I am happily ensconced in my airconditioned house, doing the usual, surfing the Internet, pretending I'm getting something done around the house so that Old Man doesn't do one of his eye-rolls when he comes home from work. Girlie-girl Dog gets up from her fluffy pink bed to tip-toe over to me and begin the Wee-wee Dance. It's really cute, y'all. Girlie-girl is a small black dog, so when she begins to dance her black nails beat a distinct fast-paced rhythm on the tile floor. But, I also know what this means - she wants me

Economics. Doesn't the sound of that word just make your skin crawl? No? Well, maybe you have a better understanding of the subject than I. Macro economics, micro economics. What's the difference? One is big and the other little. Right? So one is about global economy and the other about my household budget. But, what happened to the stuff in between? For example, what about the dress shop where I worked as a teenager? It was one store, owned by a local businessman. So, was that macro or micro? It looked quite macro to me, but I suppose the banks that held my boss's loan might have thought it very micro. Once upon a time, I tried to learn about all of this in junior college (yes, dear Reader, it was so long ago that it was called a junior college, not a community college). Way back when the world was young and all, way back when Old Man was Young Man and the children were young and innocent, I decided I needed to further my education and Economics 101 was my first foray in

I love beautiful days like today. A great rainstorm came through in the middle of the night last night and it seems to have cleaned the air of the dust and pollen that accumulates in the spring. I'm sitting on my front porch, enjoying the weather and watching the world go by. You would think I didn't have a care in the world! It's pauses like this that help to bear the burden. The beautiful spring day and the belly laughs that come from the funny things you see. My house is situated on a very busy street. Nothing but neighborhood traffic, mind you, but it's the main thoroughfare out of the neighborhood. Being in a neighborhood, I see all kinds of conveyances, from cars and trucks (of all kinds), to scooters and bicycles. It's the bicycle that found my funny bone today! I watched as a young girl, maybe 16, rode her bicycle from the top of the street to the other end, with an unexpected stop in my front yard. I watched as she chose to ride across the yards, rather

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

Have you ever wondered why some of the warnings on products are there at all? For example, a glass cleaner warns the user not to spray in eyes. I'm certainly glad of that warning, otherwise, I may have tried to clear my blurry vision with the cleaner rather than a new pair of glasses. Much cheaper! Aspirin bottles carry the warning not to take aspirin is you are allergic to it. Ok, I won't do that either. Irons (you know those hot appliances that some of us use to smooth our clothes?) - some irons carry the warning not to use it on clothes that are being worn. Ouch! A cat litter brand claims to be safe to use around pets. My pets appreciate that. And how about those airline packs of peanuts. It's not a warning exactly, but it has dumb instructions on how to use: "Open packet and eat nuts." And I want to make sure that I properly use the Christmas lights I bought: "For indoor or outdoor use only." What other "door" is there? I have a car