Saturday, October 24, 2009

Ham and Macaroni~A Love Story

Once upon a time there was a Ham and Ham was lonely. he wanted a side dish to be his constant companion. Suddenly Ham was struck with an idea and a light in the oven went on. He said to himself, "I'll hold auditions to find me the best of all side dishes." He saw many a side dish such as candied yams, baked green bean casserole and even something called mashed potatoes but none seemed to be the one for him.

Ham was about to give up and dry out, but just then the oven door opened and in slid the accompaniment of his dreams. She was lumpy in all the right places and cheesy all over. Ham asked for her name and she said she was called Macaroni and Cheese. Not the phony mac and cheese picked up on the way home from work but the kind made with real class. Ham was smitten and so was Macaroni. Together they cooked and simmered until they were perfected. They moved in with each other on the same plate, their flavors melting together creating sweet heavenly bliss until they were devoured. The End...guess what we had for dinner?? ha ha

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Dear Sir,

I have made up my mind to run away. I have had it up to here with you constantly pushing my buttons. You push and poke and never give me any rest. Right when I think you will give up and go away you push some more and I just can't take it any more.
I know I left before when you kept letting your kids wipe their greasy hands on me. I especially didn't like it when you let the baby chew on me just so you could have a few minutes of peace and quiet. I STILL have the scars from that. This time Sir, you will not find me so don't even try to look. You can even make your children search for me but it will be to no avail. No matter how long you search or how loud you call I shall remain mute.

Your remote

~Don't turn that channel, the conclusion of Run-a-way Remote will be back after these messages.

Tuesday, April 07, 2009

My Fly Guy

<-- This is a picture of the ceiling in our bathroom. Do you see the little black dot above the shower? That was my fly guy and this is our story.
Snuggled beneath the down comforter on a wintery January morning, I drifted in and out of sleep half dreaming about kids screaming and playing and waking up to a louder version of kids screaming and playing. As the fighting ensued and Daddy's voice became more stressed I decided I best get out of bed and start the day before all the kids ended up grounded for life or starved. Rolling to my back I tucked the covers under my chin as I eyed the bathroom thinking of how cold it was going to be. Working my way up to a sitting position I plunged my arms under the covers and inwardly groaned at the thought of leaving my warm spot. It takes a lot of time and complaining to get me out of bed on cold mornings. Finally I threw back the covers and swung my legs out of bed.
"Thank God for carpet!" I thought as my feet touched ground. A few anckel cracks later I was at the shower turning the knob to HOT, just to get the bathroom nice and steamy and then I'd turn it back a little. I collected my things and shut myself in the bathroom. Fast forward to washing the shampoo out of my hair -> -> -> I leaned my head back under the water to scrub out the bubbles and to my sickening surprise I saw a black spot on the ceiling directly in front of me.
"Ohmygosh, WHAT IS IT?" I screamed in my head but squeaked out loud. I didn't move. It didn't move. I still didn't move. It still didn't move. I squinted my eyeballs to try and squeeze some clarity on the thing. I ruled out a spider cuz I saw, "Wings?" That was strange. It was a fly and it looked rather dead and hanging. I was very much relieved that it wasn't a spider and that the fly wasn't going to land on me, "Unless the steam from the shower loosens it and it falls down on me." I thought. Then as I conditioned, I thought some more about this fly. Where did it come from? It was the middle of winter. How did it die? How did it get stuck on the ceiling? Why didn't it fall? Was it a guy fly or a gal fly? The only answer I came up with was that it must be a guy fly, cuz only a guy fly would choose to die on the ceiling of a shower. I turned the water off and got out at the other end. The last thing I wanted was to have a dead fly fall on me...bleck.
After getting dressed and going downstairs I asked my dear hubby if he had noticed the fly in the bathroom. Yes, he had and no, he didn't know when it got there or how. I asked if he could get it down and throw it away at some point during the day. Well as the day went on we both forgot about the fly. The next day...same shower, same fly and so it went for over a month, then two months. Every shower I wondered about that fly and every day I would forget about him until the next shower. Every shower I was guessing when he might fall. It got to the point that I was actually looking for him every time I turned the water on and smiled when I saw him. I thought about how he must be all hollow inside and couldn't get over the question, "How is he sticking to the ceiling?"
It was now a game to me. When was Fly guy going to fall? Would he fall during someones shower? Would he fall into a bath with the kids? ( I surely hoped not cuz I could see Gabe eating him.) or would he simply vanish? A mysterious ending to match his mysterious beginning. A few days later I decided to take pictures of him so I could share him with you guys..thinking we could place bets on how he might fall and when. (Come on, you know it would have been fun)
Sadly, the next time I went upstairs I looked up and my fly guy wasn't there.
"What?" I said out loud. "Where did he go?" I asked myself as I pulled back the shower curtain. I scanned the bathtub. No Fly guy. I scanned the walls and bathroom floor. Still no Fly guy. I ran downstairs and asked my hubby, "Did you get the fly off the bathroom ceiling?" I wondered if my disappointment showed.
"Yeah, I got it this morning." he said without a care.
"Oh." I said and then asked, "Did you flush him? Throw him in the trash?"
"Huh? Yeah, I threw him away" he said as he read e-mails. I didn't want to ask again because it was silly that not knowing exactly how he went was bothering me, but I asked anyway, "So did you flush him then?"
"Yeah, No I put it in the trash."
So that settled it then. Fly guy was gone. I was totally disappointed that he didn't fall naturally and that we didn't get to play our little game. I still think of him from time to time, wondering what his life was like before he died. This might sound nuts to you, but I hope that at some point during eternity in Heaven, God will tell me the fly's story. You know...after I learn all the important answers, of course.

<--- Close up of my Fly Guy before his unnatural removal.
I wonder, do you have any silly questions that only God would know the answer to?

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Relay for Life

It's that time of year again. Relay for Life is Friday May 15 and I hope that any and all family and friends can make it out. Thank you to all who have said they will be coming out and to all those who have donated. It's an important cause that means a lot to so many. I will post the exact time when I know for sure but it is in the evening around 5 or 6. One great way to donate is by purchasing a luminaria in honor/memory of someone you love to be placed and lit around the track for the luminaria service. If you can't make it to the relay, your luminaria will still be there and placed near my camp and will be lit by me or someone on my team. The cost of a luminaria is $10 and this year they have a new caregiver luminaria that is $15. Instead of it being white like the other ones it's a golden color.

For more information about the event go to
You can make donations on line, at the event, or contact me by calling or go to my web page by clicking on the link above, go to 2009 teams, click on GIRLFRIENDS FOR LIFE and then click on my name to donate and read my story. THANKS! :)

Friday, February 13, 2009

A Good-Bye Letter

Dear Matt,

This weekend is a big day for sales, being that it is Presidents Day weekend, so I think our time is up. You and I have lain around together for 15 years now and I’ve been perfectly content sleeping with you. You have not caused me one ache or pain, so you see I’m not dumping you for either of our sakes but rather for my husbands. You know, he’s that guy that sleeps with us. He’s not too fond of you because you tend to be a pain in his neck... and back…and side. I’ve stalled this day for almost 10 years now but his suffering is wearing me down and he’s moved to the couch. I have been forced with the choice between you Matt and my dear husband and I’ve chosen my husband. I’m sure you understand and I’m sure some chick or rat as it may be, will get perfectly good use out of you.

Thank you for all of your support over the years and for all of the wonderful memories. I never would have been able to sleep as well as I did with out you in my life.

With much respect and best wishes,


Wednesday, January 07, 2009


"Let go of it Hoover!!" with one last yank the sock gave way and shot out of Hoover's mouth over Swoozy's head and landed on the living room floor in tatters. She had asked the kids to make sure there were no toys or socks on the floor so Hoover wouldn't eat them but she forgot to mention looking under the furniture. Sure enough Hoover found it for them.

"Oh, another sock for the trash," Swoozy said with a sigh. "Bad Hoover," She said as she shook her finger at Hoover. Sometimes Hoover could eat up things that were not good for him like lego's, pennies, book bag straps, scarves, nails and one time a ping pong ball. The ping pong ball was shoved into him by a child and Swoozy didn't even notice until Hoover started to act funny the next day. Her husband wanted to get rid of Hoover but Swoozy was clever and used a hammer to extract the ball after it was deemed unremovable. It worked out just fine and Hoover wasn't harmed in the process.

Hoover, unlike the ones before him was proved to be reliable and fit very nicely in the household. He stayed in his various corners never complaining and when asked to perform he performed his best. He did well when the children played with him, never biting or running them over. Yes, he was a good little Hoover.

This explains why Hoover was so confused and sad when placed out on the curb one late Sunday night. He sat out there all night on the cold curb. In the morning a hand grabbed him off the curb and took him away. Hoover never saw his replacement brought in because it was small and round and named Roomba.

Roomba was a newer version of himself and boasted less work for the homeowner. So, out with the old and in with the new. Swoozy was sad to see Hoover go but was happy to see a passerby take Hoover home with him, instead of the Monday morning collector taking him away as trash. She would also be happy to know that Hoover was taken to a happy home filled with children that liked to sit on him as he was running around atop the carpets.

**In reality Hoover still lives with Swoozy and Swoozy would never dream of owning Roomba**

Friday, January 02, 2009

A Short Story (it's fiction I swear)

Mrs. Refrigerator

Swoozy opens her refrigerator door and scouts out the creamer, there it is on the top shelf behind the sticky jar of strawberry jelly and beside the empty pickle jar. She pushes the unwanted objects out of the way with one hand and grabs the creamer with the other. Anxious for her cup of coffee this chilly morning she shakes the creamer. What’s this? No sloshing? No nothing? She lifts the carton up and down feeling its weight. It certainly was not empty. Swoozy sighed heavily and turned a scowling glare towards the refrigerator, for it has done it again!

“Listen Mrs. Refigerator and listen carefully.” Swoozy demanded.
“I am sick and tired of you changing your own temperature! I’ve had to deal with frozen milk, creamer, juices and you’ve even started cracking my eggs. Why are you doing this to me?” Swoozy asked this not expecting an answer, after all she wasn’t crazy and she didn’t really think a refrigerator could talk, but perhaps for this reason or because she gave her refrigerator a name; the refrigerator talked back.

“You don’t have to shout at me you know, I’m right here and if I were you I would be careful of how you talk to me. I do hold all of your food you know,” chortled Mrs. Refrigerator.
Swoozy’s mouth dropped and she looked around the kitchen and found she was the only one there. Before she could say anything the refrigerator talked again or more like rattled.
“Perhaps I wouldn’t freeze your food if you wouldn’t slam my doors so much, I’ve actually come up with a list of things you should do to keep me running smoothly and not freezing your creamer and such. I’m sorry it had to come to this but you weren’t listening to me, but now I see I have your attention.”

Before Swoozy’s eyes the magnetic alphabet letters began to move and formed a list on Mrs. Refrigerator’s door. It read as follows:

Don’t leave sticky jars on my shelving, that’s disgusting.
Do not stand with door’s open searching for snacks. It lets all the cold air out which makes me work harder and I’m too old for that.
Do not shove and squeeze frozen foods up top, I happen to know you have a perfectly good freezer in the basement.
Keep your children out because they constantly turn my knobs. It might help if you didn’t tell them there was a little man turning the light on and off.
There really is NO little man turning the lights on and off.
Check the crispers (those are the things that hold your fruits and veggies) for moldy grapes and spills.
I would like an open box of Baking Powder on my shelf.
Finally, don’t let your leftovers become “suspicious” it smells awful.

Swoozy managed to say, “Okay, Mrs. Refrigerator I will keep all of those things in mind, I’ll even get the baking powder out for you right now.” Swoozy took the baking powder out of the baking cabinet, half expecting it to tell her to give it back, and slowly opened the refrigerator’s door. She quickly placed it on the top shelf and pulled her arm out even faster.
“For goodness sakes I’m not going to bite,” said Mrs. Refrigerator.
“Sorry,” said Swoozy
After a moment of thought Swoozy worked up enough nerve to ask Mrs. Refrigerator a question, “So does this mean we’ll be talking from now on or….” Swoozy trailed off not knowing exactly what to ask a refrigerator.
There was nothing but the humming of the refrigerator to answer her. She waited for a few minutes before turning her back to the counter and pouring her creamer. “That’s strange it’s not frozen anymore,” She thought.

Swoozy spent all day keeping what happened to herself and thinking maybe it had all been a dream, but those pesky letters were still arranged into that list. When her husband came home he read the list out loud and laughed. With some hope she asked, “Did you make that list hunny?”
“Don’t be silly Swoozy, I know you did it. I think it’s great you want to take better care of our Fridge” He said.
Swoozy sunk back down into her chair and said, “Oh yeah, silly me. I was just teasing.”

For years afterward Swoozy fussed over Mrs. Refrigerator. There was never a cleaner refrigerator than Mrs. Refrigerator. Swoozy’s husband and children were reprimanded many a time for disobeying the list that never moved off of the Refrigerator door. If a child rearranged the letters it wasn’t long after they left the kitchen that the letters moved themselves back in order. Everyone assumed it was Swoozy that put them back but only she and Mrs. Refrigerator knew the truth of it. Family often wondered why Swoozy never wanted to replace her refrigerator for a new one. It was partly out of fear and partly because she reasoned that Mrs. Refrigerator was decent enough and who knew what a new refrigerator might be like. It wasn’t until Swoozy was an old woman living in a retirement home (Where there were no refrigerator’s except in the cafeteria kitchen) when she finally told her secret. Her family laughed it off as a silly joke from an old bored woman, but Swoozy knew the truth and was happy to finally tell her tale.