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

2011 sashays in tonight! Happy New Year! How are you celebrating? Two of the revelers I'm partying with want wine! And their mother is anxiously waiting for New Kids on the Block to appear on the New Year's celebration program from New York.  What is wrong is with this picture? It makes for a fun party. I'm listening to the 2 year old insist that her mother put building blocks together, while the 5 year old is keeping Mom updated on when NKOTB will appear. And before child welfare services come to get us, I must admit that the 'wine' is actually sparkling grape juice. Ahhh, two more hours . . . Happy New Year to all of you. I hope it is full of the best blessings for you. 

Aunt Mildred has new neighbor. And she is sweet on him because he has greens growing in his garden. I just got back from visiting Aunt Mildred. She is doing well, except for her feet. Her skin is so papery thin that when she bumps her toes or shins on something, which she does on a regular basis, she breaks open a new wound. So, she stays in her house puttering around using her scooter chair. She complains about not being able to get out to the local greasy spoon to get some good old Southern Fried Catfish. Because she can't go out to eat, she turned her attention to the neighborhood, which means her new neighbor in a house just across the street. There are no other neighbors in sight. It seems the gentleman was out on his front porch one day when Aunt Mildred went to throw out some leftovers from the refrigerator to the cats that hang around her house waiting for these treats. He offered a friendly wave, which Aunt Mildred thought was very forward of him! After all, she did

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