ACES AND EIGHTS

I have a pen and ink drawing that my late husband got at a craft show in the 1970's for an unknown cost (or in trade.) I don't know when or where but Ed, a woodworker, did craft shows in 1970's in the southwest (USA) so it's probably in that vicinity.

The artist is Whitt Pritchette and the art work is entitled "Aces and Eights" and it's of Wild Bill Hickcok with aces and eights hidden in the details of the picture.

If anyone knows an artist or former artist by that name or if you ARE this Whitt Pritchette, please contact me.

If you are familiar with other pieces by Whit Pritchette I am interested in getting a ballpark figure on what his artwork might be worth. If I don't find out something about it, to the Salvation Army Thrift Store it goes.

Also, I'd like to know where the Ace of Clubs is hidden. I've found the two 8s, but only the Ace of Spades.

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It's based on this photo of Hickok. Exceptionally well done with embellishments in fine black and white pen strokes.

Update: I found Rein Whitt-Pritchett on the internet. Watched a video of an interview. He's a long time if not well known artist with stuidos/galleries in NM and CO. I emailed him and he wrote back that "There's only one Whitt-Pritchett." He said it would probably not be a good idea to donate one of his drawings to the Salvation Army. He also told me that the Albuquerque Art Museum bought and displayed two of his works.

Immediately I thought it couldn't have been an original drawing so I looked at the penciled signature. It also said 14/40. So, I have print 14 out of 40 that were made. (I don't mean a xerox copy. A professional copy, a PRINT. My brother-in-law, an artist, asks up to $500 for a print of his work depending on the size.

So I hung the picture back on the wall where it belongs. I'm not a big fan of Wild Bill Hickok but I did get a question about him correct when I was watching Jeopardy.

I am a fan of art, Wild Bill or not. I was thrilled to hear from the actual artist. Thank you Mr. Whitt-Prichette.

What is "Pagan" anyway?

Good answer:

Found on the internet from Edain McCoy:

"When one defines oneself as Pagan, it means she or he follows an earth or nature religion, one that sees the divine manifest in all creation. The cycles of nature are our holy days, the earth is our temple, its plants and creatures our partners and teachers. We worship a deity that is both male and female, a mother Goddess and father God, who together created all that is, was, or will be. We respect life, cherish the free will of sentient beings, and accept the sacredness of all creation."

I like that

DUH

I just ran across this on the internet:


"I don't think witchcraft is a religion. I would hope the military officials would take a second look at the decision they made."

Guess who said this.

G.W. Bush (R), as Governor of Texas. Interviewed on ABC's Good Morning America, 1999-JUN-24. He disapproved of Wiccan soldiers being given the same religious rights as others in the military.

What I say is, "I don't think GW has a clue about anything he ever said."

How did we elect this guy president -- NOT ONCE BUT TWICE?!?

Wiccan IS a religion. And Texas is another country.

CONSTRUCTING ANCIENT PYRAMIDS

Ok. About the pyramids in Egypt. No kidding. This is serious you guys!

I haven't been able to find validation for my own theory about how the pyramids were built.

Most theories revolve around how the Egyptians (or their slaves) lifted humongous blocks, one after the other, to the top of a rising structure as massive as the pyramids especially the Great Pyramid of Giza.)

My theory is that they were built from the top down! I saw only ignorant or derisive comments about this suggestion on a forum someplace in cyberspace. But that was before I explained it.

Here is my theory that makes logical sense, or a least as much sense as saying people moved blocks weighing many tons up to the top of an ever increasing structure as tall as the great pyramid.

My theory is certainly far more reasonable than assuming aliens built the pyramids or aliens taught human beings a method of levitation (that people promptly forgot.)

There has to be an explanation how the Ancient Egyptians (and do we really know who they were?) moved the blocks to the building sites. Once we have the answer to that mystery understanding the rest will be a snap.

Were the huge "bricks" quarried elsewhere and moved to the site? Were they quarried right there in a geological rock deposit long gone from the earth? Or were they perhaps constructed in an unknown way similar to the way a sacred dung beetle makes a ball out of manure? Who's to say the blocks were square to begin with? They could have been rolled there and shaped in cubes after they arrived. Or perhaps they were made with a superior form of concrete?

The possibilities are endless.

Here's how I speculate they were built and it', no more more difficult to ponder than the theory of building them the other way(s).

Built from the top down?!?

Think about it. Weren't the pyramids discovered by someone tripping over a big pointed stone sticking out of the sand? (That's what I heard, though I haven't checked it with Snopes yet.) Didn't that stone turn out to be the top of a pyramid? The discovery of the pointed rock must have resulted in the mother of all gargantuan archaeological digs.

So, my theory is the ancient builders (and I assume they were just as smart--or as dumb--as modern man) dug a hole under one side of the first block, wherever it came from, and pushed, pulled or rolled the next block under it? They then repeated that sequence until they'd moved lots and lots of sand that hopefully blew away in the winds of the desert every night when they knocked off for dinner and beer. When the second block was in position, another hole was dug on the other sides. This process continued until the first layer was in place to lay layer after layer.

I even think that taking sand away from a building site would be a darn sight easier than moving it there to make ramps. If the wind is anything like it is in NM there goes the sand.

If you go to the beach try to make a pile of sand and stand on.

I'm sure some jerk will say it's too hard to put big square rocks under other big square rocks. This same jerk, of course, who easily believes huge blocks were rolled, pushed or pulled onto the top of other blocks. (Or the weirdos who believe in alien builders.)

As far as the remarkable closeness of pyramid blocks (and in other ancient stone constructions around the world) it's a wonder no one else considered the simplest theory...that the weight of the stones would press down over the years and compress the other stones. All it would take is some gravity and some really heavy stones. Hey, we got plenty of that.

As long as we're speculating, perhaps gravity was weaker in the old days. You just never know for sure. Just like believing there might have been atmosphere or water on Mars, right?

This theory can be proved with a simple "experiment." Get one of your rumpled books and stack a pile of other books (or rocks if you want to go to that trouble) on top of it. Come back a few months later and you'll see your rumpled book at the bottom of the pile is no longer rumpled. The weight of the books compressed the rumples. This also works shelf of books -- especially with those hard-readen paperbacks that resemble fans.

My whole point is that no theory is substantiated adequately to be positively, without-a-doubt correct explanation.

A theory is not really a theory without some substantiated evidence anyway. Until that time it's just speculation. Speculations are a dime a dozen. (Sorry for the cliche.)

Another thing, as far as believing the pyramids were tombs--it's not certain they were tombs. Actual burial sites found in the area were not in pyramids. Those other tombs out-numbered the pyramids. In fact, no certain burial sites were found in pyramids.

The truth is, modern man (archaeologist or not) hasn't got a clue how and why pyramids were built.

Oh, regarding another mysterious site Machu Picchu.

Perhaps Machu Picchu was built at sea level and an earthquake bashed the tectonic plates together pushing the site up to the top of the previously non-existent mountains. (I read that theory in a book, by the way.)

Think about it? Wouldn't that make as much sense as builders bringing a bunch of big rocks to the top of a mountain to build another thing we don't know the purpose of?

So, my real point is: DON'T BELIEVE EVERYTHING YOU HEAR. (Well, someone said that already but it bears repeating.)

Think about what you do hear and decide for yourself. Don't just buy a theory because a bunch of so-called experts sold a popular idea, swore to it and put it on the Discovery Channel.

In fact, you don't have to believe anything after you consider the all possibilities. The theories cancel each other out.

A hundred or a thousand years from now the "truth" will be just another theory based on "expert" popularized belief if books and television still exist.

Didn't people used to believe draining blood out of sick people would cure them? There were a lot of "facts" in ages past. More people died of exsanguination (ex·san·gui·na·tion--ekˌsaNGgwəˈnāS)than the illness plaguing them. (I think one was Beethoven, though you can't believe everything that comes out of Hollywood.)

Comments are invited.

My Review of Women's Lionshead Mary Jane

Originally submitted at Timberland

Take a look at our Women's Lionshead Mary Jane. We've combined classic Mary Jane styling with sporty, contemporary materials to create our Women's Lionshead Mary Jane.

Women's Lionshead Mary Jane

Womens Lionhead Mary Janwe

By Sandy from Tijeras, New Mexico on 6/13/2011

 

4out of 5

Sizing: Feels true to size

Width: Feels true to width

Pros: Comfortable, Stable, Good Cushioning, Durable, Breathes Well

Cons: Strap doesn't open, Needs shoehorn to get on

Best Uses: Casual Wear, Travel

Describe Yourself: Trendy, High-end shopper, Stylish, Comfort-oriented

These are wonderfully comfortable; and stylish enough to wear everyday including going out. I can wear them everywhere. My only shoes except for boots in the winter and my old Timberland's that are now "slippers."

I was disappointed that the strap was just for looks and didn't open.

It's advertized as slip-on but I had to get a shoe horn to get the back of my foot in. (I wear Medium width.)

Price is reasonable and these are quality shoes that look great and will last a long time.

I had Thimberland shoes, similar Mary Janes, and I loved them. I can't see why everyone wouldn't love them once they try them.

Easy to order online. No long wait. Delivered right to my door.

(legalese)

More Advice and Other Meaningless Information

I thought I'd share some of helpful insights I've come up with lately. Or is that lately insights? You other writers out there, please forgive the adverbs. I know they're annoying (especially to know-it-alls).

ADVICE I WISH I'D FOLLOWED:

1. Don't cook spaghetti wearing your good shoes.

2. Don't wear a good shirt or blouse when you eat spaghetti.



C. If you have to eat spaghetti at a formal gala, make sure do so in a rented tuxedo. Women wear your strapless evening gown enough that the sauce splashes on your cleavage. (You know who you are. And I don't think you can rent gowns.)

(Not that #3 pertains to me, but maybe some rich and famous people read blogs. (I know Aston Kutcher does, oh no sorry, that's facebook.)


OTHER WORTHLESS MUSINGS:

I know Karl Jung is pronounced Karl "Young" in English and in German much the same but with a German accent (and not the one Hogan's Heroes came up with. Oh no--I've dated myself unless you count re-runs.)

Did you ever think how his Karl Jung's name would sound in Spanish? Carlos Hung?

And in Chinese would he sound something like Chang Wang? (Or am I thinking of John Wayne as pronounced by Jackie Chan in one of his bone-breaking movies?)

ABOUT COMPARATIVE RELIGIONS:

I've pretty much discovered all religions are the same at the root (except maybe fundamentalism which focuses on sending everyone else to hell. Though that's irrelevant to the study of religions, especially those with a spiritual basis.)

I compare religions and spiritual teachings to find the similarities, not the differences. Contrary to public opinion.

That outlook might work better than the traditional way of fighting in the name of God or like locking up your own countrymen for very mean reasons, and/or killing a bunches of each other at home and abroad. (Oh no, are we back to German and Chinese. No offense intended. Don't exclude America. And, of course, the Spanish Inquisition.)

As this is designed to be a humorous blogspot (I hope), I won't let you in on how I've connected some dots in comparing religions.

Since it would tend to be rather boring to people not into reading, writing and being opinionated. (Wait, I've heard that " everyone has an opinion". Didn't Ben Franklin coin that phrase or was it one of the President Bushes?)

So, OK. Blog-over for now. Toodle-oo

PS: Comments are welcome except from people suffering from a lack of sense-of-humor.

COMPUTERIZED FUTURE?

I received this email today. I hope it's a joke. My comments afterwards are heavily imbued with cynicism, sarcasm and humor. (This is a long one so go get a sandwich first. Good luck.)



Things That Will Disappear in Our Life Time

1. The Post Office. It's so deeply in financial trouble that there's no way to sustain it long term. Email, Fed Ex, and UPS have just about wiped out the minimum revenue needed to keep the post office alive. Most of your mail every day is junk mail and bills.

2. The Check. It costs the financial system billions of dollars a year to process checks. Plastic cards and online transactions will lead to the eventual demise of the check. This will help the death of the post office. If you didn't receive & pay your bills the post office would be gone.

3. The Newspaper. The younger generation simply doesn't read the newspaper. & certainly don't subscribe to home delivery. Reading the paper online, get ready to pay. The rise in mobile Internet devices and e-readers has caused all the newspaper and magazine publishers to form an alliance with big computer and the major cell companies to develop a model for paid subscription services.

4. The Book. You say you will never give up the physical book that you hold in your hand and turn the literal pages? I said the same thing about downloading music. I wanted my hard copy CD. But I discovered I could get albums for half the price without ever leaving home. The same thing will happen with books. You can browse a bookstore online and read a preview chapter before you buy. And the price is less. It's also convenient! You'll forget that you're holding a gadget instead of a book.

5. The Land Line Telephone. Unless you have a large family and make a lot of local calls, you don't need it anymore. Most people keep it simply because they've always had it. You're paying double charges for phone services if you have a cell phone. Already the cell phone companies are letting you call customers with the same provider and include long distance calls, unlike the land line companies.

6. Music. The music industry is dying a slow death. Not just because of illegal downloading, but the greed and corruption. Record labels and the radio conglomerates are simply self-destructing. Over 40% of the music purchased today is "catalog items," meaning traditional music that the public is familiar with by older established artists. This is also true on the live concert circuit.

7. Television. Revenues to the networks are down dramatically. Not just because of the economy. People are watching TV what they want to watch online and streamed to their TV's and computers. They're playing games and doing lots of other things that take up the time that used to be spent watching TV. On top of that cable rates are skyrocketing and commercials run about every 4 minutes and 30 seconds.

8. Privacy. If there ever was a concept that we can look back on nostalgically, it would be privacy. That's gone. It's been gone for a long time anyway. There are cameras on the street, in most of the buildings, and even built into your computer and cell phone. 24/7 "they" know who you are and where you are, right down to the GPS coordinates, and the Google Street View. If you buy something it's put into a zillion profiles, and your ads will be customized to you. Of course, "they'll also send ads to try to get you to buy something else. Again and again.
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THAT'S ONE GUY'S OPINION. THIS IS MINE: These things won't become obsolete any time soon. (Except for # 8 which, I fear, is already true. How cheery.)

First of all there's too many people without computers. What about blind people? Paralyzed people? Those without fingers? Hire someone to describe the pictures?

Computers run on electricity. What about people that can't afford the higher electricity bills?

How are people who don't have enough food going to get computers and more electricity? Who's going to issue computers to every man, woman, and child in the world and teach them to use them--especially 80 to 90-year-olds and illiterate people?

This responsibility (and cost) will fall on government which is already understaffed and in debt up to the eyebrows.

Oh, I forgot, medicare and medicare will be out of money so all the old folks, poor folks and handicapped people will be dead. Or living in the woods foraging for food. (No more food stamps.)

Are they going to download the food via computer to refrigerators?

No, wait, the forests will all be gone. Maybe since paper is obsolete the trees can grow back. Oh, without trees there won't be any oxygen so we'll ALL be dead.

In the meantime what are we going to use for toilet paper?

The mail service is run by private companies already. You can bet the farm it makes a profit, mostly from the government who use the services.

Post Office being obsolete will "unemploy" all the postal workers.

A million employees who did all the manual work before computers took over will all be let-go too. These people will all want unemployment benefits and welfare. We can pay them with computers but they won't get these benefits because they won't we be able afford computers or electricity.

We'll all be screwed because our taxes are going to be so high we'll each need our own electronic bank to pay them.

With all this heavy computer use, we'll have to train people to run the computers. Computers can't program themselves, can they? Not yet anyway. We'll need programmers to do that. There'll be a lack of programmers because they won't be able to afford college. Whoa, colleges won't exist! They won't be able to afford all the electricity needed to run everything by computer.

Electric cars will have to be produced too since fuel will be gone by them. Yay, no fumes to poison the skies. But it won't matter because most of us will be dead from the pollution and insecticides we use right now and from bad guys killing & robbing us to pay for their computers and electricity. Oh, wait. They'll be killed off by pollution too. DUH.

If we can't afford to pay benefits for unemployed, poor, handicapped and old people, how will we afford to pay for wars and help poor countries who don't even know what computers are yet? I mean, where is a remote African in a village going to plug in their computers anyway?

We won't be able to kill off everyone without war, will we? We'll eventually have a shortage of military to do the killing and be available to be killed. They'll already be unemployed and dead. I guess computers could kill each other with on line war games.

What about land line phones? Not everyone has a cell phone. Remote areas can't get cell reception. It'll take more signal towers, so's who's going to build them? And pay for them? The government will still be broke, and people'll be poor or dead with no work/money because they couldn't afford computers or electricity.

Whoever builds signal towers would have to buy property to build them on or the government can take the land away from already poor people who still don't have computers and electricity.

But the government, being broke, won't have computers and electricity either.

Also, most wireless computer services go through land lines. So without a land line they won't have internet access. The question will be: will they have enough computers at the library?

Computers are not secure nor safe and it's getting worse. They "crash" and lose all saved material. So there goes, for instance, all the billing data. Nobody gets paid on either end. (I'd like to see rich guys like Donald Trump trust the internet totally to run their business.)

I think doing away with money is a good idea, though. I use my debit card for everything already. I don't like cash or checks. I pay most of my bills on the internet. Internet providers can't stop people from hacking into stuff now...what about when it's all bigger and more complex? No one's electronic money will be safe.

Add in the extra electronic load of billing and paying that will slow connections down even worse, and...oh, I forgot--all those unemployed people won't be paying bills. So never mind.

Terrorists will have a new target, an easy way to stop civilization as we know it--hacking and destroying electronic signals and the world-wide-web. Assuming they won't have to use computers or electricity which they won't be able to afford because they won't be getting rich on oil production anymore.

No oil, no gas, no cars, no jobs, no electricity, no land lines. It'll snowball in a chilly chain reaction. Stephen King would have a ball. But then no one could read his "books" without computers/electricity. Well, you get the idea.

There's nothing anyone can do to stop bands and orchestras from playing LIVE music. Even if there is no electricity they can use non-electric instruments. We could have one band on every street corner...heck, IN the street if there're no cars due to no oil. At least the bands can play til dark. With no street lights for the same reasons overstated several times above.

But what about no more sales from CD players? Won't manufacturers and stores be gone eventually? World economy won't just drop, it would fail completely without being able to sell stuff to everyone and his brother. I mean, China would go out of business.

Oh, of course! Silly me. Everyone will be unemployed, stuck at home in the dark with no food. Or dead. Problem solved.

People are publishing their own books and music more and more. How are we going to stop them? Door to door search to arrest people who write, publish, sell, and read paper books, or musicians and music fans?

We'd have to burn the books we already have. Oh. We tried that a couple three times, and it didn't work. Whew. (That also included burning up a lot of people. That's out of vogue now. Whew again.)

This all sounds like that stupid idea to make everyone use fluorescent bulbs. The little ones with toxic gases in them. So what if the broken ones kill a bunch of kids? They'd only grow up to be unemployed and starving at home with no computers and electricity anyway.

Of course there won't be any homes at all with all the repair people & builders who will all be unemployed as their tools run on unaffordable electricity. They couldn't get paid on computers they don't have. Not to mention being too weak from not having food. And/or dead of course.)

Who is going to take care of all this mess? The government? Not if taxpayers go the way of the dinosaurs and congress won't get paid.

What are the courts going to do with all the overload of people cited or arrested for reading paper books, listening to CD's, and using incandescent light bulbs? Of course Court will be convened on computers and closed circuit TV. What'll they do when someone fails to show up? Swear out a bench warrant for the computer?

I'm wondering when we're going get devices planted in our heads so we can receive signals directly into our brains. We can even include medical diagnoses and treatments with that. Then guess what? No hospitals just unemployed doctors and nurses.

I don't go by predictions much. The predictions from my childhood said we'd have hovercrafts by now instead of cars. But it wouldn't have mattered anyway because the new ice age would've been here by now, and I'd be frozen as stiff as a CD. If my teachers weren't all retired or dead by now, they could verify they mentioned it. But they'd have to have your email address and without any computers or electricity--forget it.

If you didn't have a computer or electricity you wouldn't be reading this anyway. So...have a good laugh. Turn off your computer right now and give your electricity a rest. Hopefully, computers'll become obsolete and we can get back to cooking over campfires and living in caves. Ah the good ole days.

None of this'll actually matter because people'll become obsolete. All the computers will be completely bored and commit electronic suicide. Assuming they have electricity.

As Anonymous said, "Life is short. Eat dessert first."

CLOSER--SPOILER

I watched an "old" (2004. Rated R) movie DVD I checked out of the library. I guess I can't complain since it was free. But...

Closer. I think it meant more close, not the meaning (or pronunciation) of Closer in Kyra Sedgwick's television cop series.

Close to what?

I was surprised to see these 30-something people acting more like teenagers or immature 20-somethings. Changing partners. Jealousy. Arguments. Throwing "fuck" into ever scene (verbally and implied.)

I was also surprised someone didn't off themselves or someone else.

This was definitely not a comedy unless you like to watch fools go 'round and 'round and never get anything except lots of action and self-created problems.

I didn't feel empathy for any of them. Is a comedy supposed to be focusing on sad pathetic people?

However, it IS worth watching if you want to see a younger Natalie Portman (nearly) nude. You can turn off the dialog to catch her scenes.

If you're single, lonely and want to get turned on (or turned off of seeking romance) try this movie. It would work for you either way.

And, oh--if you happen to like seeing grown men cry, Closer is for you.

RAINING IN NEW MEXICO?

Thursday, April 07, 2011

Good lord and lady, it's raining here in the mountains! No wonder my joints were aching yesterday. (That and lifting the filled 20-pound (or is it 20-gallon?) propane tank. I can see I'm going to have to have some help with tanks when I live alone. A dolly or a serious cart. I doubt it would work to roll a full tank. I really don't want to blow up. If I do I'd rather die quick. I HATE going to the hospital for extended visits. And I really LOVE having skin.

On the other hand, I could get an electric hot water heater if I should hit the lottery. A hot water heater and taking a trip to Europe, I mean, and not necessarily in that order.

Hmmm, I could get propane delivered for $1000 a fill-up. It’d probably take me a two or three years to use up the propane needed for my hot water alone. But they make you order a fill-up now and again or they come and take the tank back. (Really.)

I suppose I could heat the damn water on the stove. I don’t need showers much. I have a hot tub to sanitize me, but I don't know if I really like that idea.

I'm going to have to get someone to teach me how to hook up the tank. Of course I can get a bigger tank that would last longer and have my lazy, grumpy, inconsiderate son (he says it's stress) to get it filled and hook it up for me. He told me that if I wanted him to help me, I should call him and say, "Get your ass over here and hook up the fucking propane tank, you lazy son-of-a-bitch asshole." And he added, "You don't know how to talk to people!"

Okay... And who's he kidding? I taught him to talk like that.

I wouldn't be using as much propane and hot water as he and his family do. Of course if I were rich I'd get an electric hot water heater and pay an electrician to hook it up. It couldn't cost much more than the damn electric stove. It was a $1400 stove, a last-year's-model, marked down to a mere $450. I got it home and found out that we didn't really have a 220-outlet behind the gas stove after all. So I only had to pay an electrician $1100 to have the line put in. Not bad considering he had to run the line along the outside roof overhang in a metal pipe all the way from the main electric box in the back of the house to the kitchen near the front. About fifty miles of it. So much for a good deal on the stove.

I guess the stove was worth it. It features what I wanted--ceramic top and self-cleaning oven and considerably cleaner than my old stove. It’s a small price to pay for cooked food the rest of my life, right?

Like I started to say, my son & his sweetie take showers everyday and wash their kids up very often in the over sized bathtub that leaks into my laundry room below (they deny their kids are splashing.) It's a big tub with “jacuzzi” jets that I never used after we got the hot tub.

I'd have the tub removed if I could. But it's non-removable. Probably weighs as much as a hundred 20-pound propane tanks.

Not to mention cemented-in.

BTW, I thought little boys are supposed to be dirty. When my kids were little I found out a lot of dirt rubs off on the sheets at night. That was Las Vegas NV desert dirt (modified sand that brushes off.) I loved it. Las Vegas I mean, not just the sand. The weather was so good that the kids could pay outside all year. It only rained 4 inches a year (mostly at the same time causing flash floods.) It only ever snowed once while we lived there and then only because one of my kids--never admitted who he was--prayed for snow. It melted about 20 minutes later.

The only thing about LV sand, you didn’t dare walk on it bare-footed in the summer. Super-Ouch. Though you could probably bake an egg on it. I think my kids tried it once. The dog ate it before we could tell.

Here in the East Mountains the dirt is what adobe bricks are made of. You have to wash your kids off quick or it sticks. There are some houses in old town with adobe bricks 300 years old. I wouldn't want my grandsons walking around looking like Horno Ovens. I've included a picture of an horno below for people who have never seen one. Those who thought NM was really in Mexico. And thought they needed a passport to visit here. (I met person who thought Las Vegas was in California. But at least CA’s in the United States.)


New Mexicans really use modern BBQ grills here. Most hornos are for decoration. Or in museums.

Oh the sun's trying to come out now. Partly cloudy must be weatherman code for intermittent overcast. I do hope the trees got enough water to keep them going a little while longer. Though I suppose the 100-foot Ponderosa Pines have roots a hundred feet deep into an underground river or something. Our well is only 199 feet deep so we aren't in competition with the trees for water. I hope. If we run out of water we can have it delivered. I saw the truck a couple months ago.

What did I want to say today? Oh yeah. I watched the movie The Social Network about the guy(s) that started Facebook. It was mostly talk -- very very fast talk. I did get the feel of what a college is like as well as seeing the horrific types of parties kids have now-a-days. Hell, I admit I might have been to some equally scary parties back in my college days and early marriedhood. But I didn’t shock as easily then and of course I was drunk so who can remember?

It hasn't rained here since...I don’t know when. It snowed precious little all winter. Mild winter except for the cold snaps of 35 below zero with warmer gusts of minus ten. Froze our water pipes twice.

I called the snowplow guy only once (for 75 fucking dollars) and bought some new all-season tires (for a mere 500 dollars plus tossing out the tires off my year-old car.)

Holy shit. I have a good excuse for throwing away money — "mania." Thank God and Goddess, there'er good meds for that now. I still have the habit of getting rid of money. I’m just not depressed about it like I used to be.

I was sure after getting all-weather tires installed that I wouldn't ever need them. It's like the reverse of washing your car and it rains. Like, umm, get car insurance so you won't have an accident. Or buy health insurance so you never get sick. Having life insurance so you don't die. Well, you will eventually. But you know what I mean. I guess getting new tires when you already have really new tires is better than wasting money on candy for instance.

At least I'm prepared in case the universe decides to put things back to normal, i.e., piles of snow and hubcap-deep mud. Driving on ice is tricky too. Since the road is paved now it makes the snow melt all day. When it freezes at night it's like ice hockey with a 3000-pound puck.

I had a little car when I first moved to Juan Tomas that could get up steep Juan Tomas hill only sliding down a few times getting to the top. At least I slid in a circle and faced downhill. Anyone coming along would think I’d planned to come and would know enough to get the hell out of the way so I wouldn't bounce off of them on the way to the bottom.

I'm too chicken to drive in snow or mud these days. Wisdom comes with age, you know.

I have experience with slippery mud, too. I took the top of unpaved Juan Tomas Road in the mud. Much to my surprise, I found out brakes don't work on slippery stuff! I slid onto a tree stump. I didn't notice the bumper was a bit crooked until later. I didn’t consider a slip off the road to be an accident and I'm pretty sure I wasn't at fault. I had a good excuse: MUD. So my insurance company never heard from me. At least it was a relief to know the stump couldn't sue.

Gravel is equally slippery. I found out the hard way when I took a turn a wee bit too fast. I made the turn on two wheels. I mean, literally. My son who was about eleven said, "Hey, cool. Let's do it again!" Recently, on his way to drop off his little boy at school on the snowy road, he gunned his “vintage” (dilapidated) Camero to take Juan Tomas hill and slid into a tree. Twice. Some people only learn by repetition. He didn't think THAT was cool. No one was hurt and the Camero was officially declared junk finally, so some good came out of it.

I hoped it would rain enough today even if it led to mud. I haven't ventured out to see for myself. It would be easy to let the dog in and watch for muddy footprints. I could actually walk outside to see how much mud clings to my shoes, but I don't dare do that. As I said, adobe mud is slippery and it’s vastly heavy when it dries on shoes. Adobe mud hardens into industrial strength cement.

Oh yeah. I have to record my dream before I forget the whole thing. I usually forget my dreams but find the mood they set lingers with me all day. I was with some guy that looked like a cross between two of Ed's friends Harold and Tim at a self-improvement conference lead by some jackass that wanted us to remove our pants and line up in our underwear so we would get over embarrassment. I refused to do it. I decided then and there I was a rebel. Finally I did get up and get in a line for woman's restroom. When I dream I'm waiting for a stall, it means I have to go in real life. So I usually wake up and go. Thankfully it's in that order.

I also had a dream about being back at my old job at the LVMPD standing at the counter trying to see over a bunch of old typewriters. I suggested to the boss that we move some of them, and she was the same bitch she was back then. No. They had to stay there. I still have nightmares about the records bureau.

Oh, I know what woke me up in the night. The electricity kept blinking off and on. I could hear the cordless phone bleeping when the electricity started back up again. It was out only a few seconds at a time. But I noticed instantly that it is so QUIET when the electricity was off. There is definitely a sound when electricity goes thorough wires, even when electrical devices “off.” It’s amazing (until I get an electric bill for $500.)

We're too far from Taos to hear the Taos Hum. But I could swear, now and then, that Juan Tomas has a hum too. Or maybe it's the Air Force base a few mountains over testing some sort flying craft they made with secret alien technology?

This IS New Mexico, home of the Roswell flying saucer crash sixty-five years ago. Yeah, right. LOL-doubled. That rumor didn't even start until 30 or 40 years later. I have heard rumors it was a weather balloon. True, those suckers are scary when you see your first one. But I'm sure I read somewhere it was a spy balloon that the American government put up to circle the earth to see what Russian war-mongers were up to in the cold-war era after WWII.

However, my theory is it was a leftover Japanese balloon that had a bomb attached that crashed in Roswell. The government DID have a cover-up on those things. There were hundreds (or at least dozens) of them) drifting across the Pacific long after the war was over. None of the others, of course, exploded.

Hey. I saw it on PBS so it's true. PBS doesn't lie.

I hope all these armed balloons are gone by now. You just never know.

I’ve got to go now. It's almost lunch time and I haven't eaten breakfast yet.

To my friends and relatives, come over and visit me in NM. You don’t need a passport. Honest.

SOUTH FROM GRENADA

Thursday, April 7, 2011South from Granada

I'm still thinking about that movie South from Granada I mentioned on my other blog Movie Opinions April 4, 2011. Since I don't do spoilers on that blog, merely give my opinion of a movie to let people know a bit about the movie so they can decide to watch it or not, I thought I go ahead and spoil it on here.

Does anyone read this anyway?

First of all, what foreign movie industries label "comedy" or "romantic comedy" is WAY different than what American movies mean by "romantic" and/or comedy. This movie, in my opinion, was far from a comedy. This was a drama. Few laughs except when Brenan calls after the girl who ran out of the room after the first time they made-love, "Was it that bad?"

I watched my way through Matthew Goode's movies, mostly newest to oldest, until I got to his first movie South from Granada (there's one earlier made-for-British-TV movie which no one's ever heard of, Ugliest Stepsister or something.)

I've liked all his movies (Leap Year is still my favorite even thought it's not his best.) All except Chasing Liberty, that is. Groan, Cough-cough. Icky-poo.

South From Granada, a Spanish movie, is based on a memoir of Gerald Brenan, a writer, who lived in Spain circa 1920.

Matthew Goode, in an attempt to make him look a little like Brenan, had his hair dyed golden blond. He has naturally curly hair so this made him look like a cute little English Moppet. Except for the fact he is long and lanky (over 6-feet tall and almost painfully slender) and has a glorious deeper than deep voice. He looked quite good with blond hair, just not as powerful or as mature as he looks with natural black hair.

Another scene, completely unbelievable at the end was supposed to be 20 years later. The daughter who would then be 23, still looked like a young teenager, while the Brenans looked about 70. I sure didn't like seeing Matthew mostly white-haired and bald with wrinkles and bags under his eyes. And you'd think he'd gain a little weight by then and not stay so string-beany.

I was amazed to read that Matthew Goode doesn't speak Spanish. (The Spanish in Spain is as different from New Mexican Spanish that they might have been speaking Martian. All all I caught was por favor a couple of times.) In reality, Matthew spoke his lines by phonetic imitation. It takes exceptional talent and intelligence to be able to do that.

I found it hard to read the subtitles AND keep my eyes on the characters and action at the same time. I had to keep backing the DVD up and replaying it to catch some of the dialog and/or look at Matthew's beautiful face.

In one delicious scene, that looked awkward as hell, Gerald and Juliana are learning to dance to the tune of a gramophone. The actor and actress were both completely naked. It was just a few delightful seconds, so don't blink or you'll miss it. But I must say, Matthew is definitely hung, if you know what that means. (You can see this scene on YouTube if you search a little.) He's also surprisingly muscular which isn't obvious when you see him clothed.

I feel a bit about this movie the way I felt about Imagine Me and You. In that movie, I was sad for the husband who was dumped by his new bride in favor of another woman. It was a comedy in the sense that it had a happy ending, I guess. But Matthew did such a convincing performance as a worried, hurt and sad man that he had me crying. At least it had a few more laughs in it than South from Granada.

In South from Grenada, Matthew's character Gerald Brenan has a child with his young lover who was a maid in his rented house, as was the custom at that time (and might still be for all I know.) He leaves her to go back to England, promising he'll be back. But he doesn't come back for three years and, in fact, get married in the space of that three years. (If I were writing this, I would bring him back to town to live with his lover joyfully forever. I guess real life is different. In this movie I'd prefer more fiction.

Not only that, the guy he returns three years later with mustache and his wife in tow and they get his little girl and leaves town again.

Granted, the mother did say yes. Actually she said, "If she stays here she'll be as poor as the rest of us," or words to that effect.

It's how I felt about Buddha Gautama when I first heard he left his wife and child (and palace) to go sit under a tree and contemplate. How spiritual is that, I ask you? I've forgiven him now. But hard on the kids, these broken families.

South from Granada is a little like Madame Butterfly the opera, without all the singing, in which the navy lieutenant leaves the Japanese "wife" there with their son. Then he returns with his wife to claim the boy. Of course the Japanese girl does what is expected of her...commits supuku or ritual suicide. In this movie, the Spanish senorita doesn't kill herself, she just goes on jumping into bed with other lovers and presumably having more children. But still...

It's time to put Leap Year on my DVD player and chase South from Granada out of my mind.


Matthew Goode as Declan. Leap Year 2010

FOOD, COOKING, & BOOK DISCUSSION

I used to be one of those people obsessed with eating/not eating. Not necessarily interested in food or preparing it, just woofing it down or preventing myself from woofing it down. But now that I've kicked the compulsive eating syndrome, I'm beginning to feel an appreciation for food and cooking.

I can see now why cooking is considered and art. It's creative. It's enjoyable to prepare meals that are both beautiful and delicious. (Ohmygod, I sound like Martha Stewart.)

The problems that discouraged me in the past were:

1) Never having all the ingredients in recipes in my kitchen, so I made them up with what I had,
2) Wanting something easy, simple and fast to feed a passel of kids,
3) Using packaged food,
4) Having at least one husband who didn't give a flying fig about food or eating with me,)
5) Recipes did work right or look like they were supposed to.

Then there were the times when we didn't have anything to eat in the house except macaroni (well, once.) Now when young people say, "We don't have anything to eat," they mean, "Everything is frozen and I don't have time to defrost it," or "We don't like anything we have, Or "We don't do leftovers so let's throw them away." Which means, in my eyes, "Let's waste food." Or, a new one, "My food stamps haven't come yet."

Sorry if I'm so cynical but I think I'm turning into my mother-in-law who used to freak out if her kids or her grandkids waste food or ate popcorn for dinner. Heck, we truly didn't want to eat everything on our plate because we really were full. And we were on the way to the movie theater so didn't really have time to eat a full, nutritious meal she always wanted to cook us.

Now to the point. I attend a book discussion group once a week with other single ladies. It's heavy reading and takes a lot of energy to plow through (like Tibetan Book of the Dead with editor commentary) so we began to alternate bringing something to eat afterwards so we could relax and enjoy conversation.

It's gone from a potluck fare to becoming a gourmet dinner party. There might even be a smidgen of "Can-you-top-this?" involved.

I'm not complaining. I LOVE IT. I'm becoming eager to my week to cook and shopping at the fancy-schmancy grocery stores, Sunflower or Trader Joe's, for tasty, fresh and/or organic items.

We began with sharing "main course." Gradually we added appetizers for when someone showed up hungry--snacks to nibble while we read and sipped herbal tea such as brie cheese and those small whole grain Wheat Thins.

Our next addition was a selection of bread, some of which homemade and sometimes rare and exotic. With nice, soft, creamy butter or warm garlic bread.

Then our hostess began making these amazing salads because she has a garden. The salads would make a full meal but we eat them with the main course. Lately I noticed she's also adding more and more amazing ingredients. Things that I love such as artichoke hearts or avocado. With homemade balsamic vinegar dressing also. Yum.

Then the lady that loves to bake started doing little breads and unusual cookies, so we advanced to another course--desert. One week it was fresh, sliced strawberries, out of season. Yum again.

Some of the wonderful things we've fixed and/or eaten are lasagna made from scratch. Ditto on spaghetti and meat balls. Bruschetta. Homemade green chile stew. Makes me hungry to even think about it. Steamed homegrown asparagus. Yum times three.

The week I fixed a green chile stew I had to say, "This is so good I can't believe I made it!"

We've also added sides to the main course.

This is magnificent!!! I'm so glad to be a part of it.

The week before last, in my fervor for Julie and Julia (and books the movie was based on)I made a creamed mushroom soup. I even chopped the mushrooms into little pieces rather than just slicing them, used the leeks instead of onions that were substitutes. It called for three cups of milk and a cup of sour cream. The sour cream from the health food store was thick and shiny and had a taste out of this world! (Is that an old cliche? Sorry. Now I sound like a Campbell's Soup can.)

I told another friend about this great dinner party/book discussion group and my mushroom soup and she gasped and said it was terribly "unhealthy." I stood by my Julia Child recipe and declare it was only milk like we drink anyway, and sour cream instead of heavy cream. (I didn't mention the butter I'd sauteed the leeks in.) I also told her since we weren't eating meat it wasn't overdoing it with "fat." So she knuckled under and said it was okay since we shared it among several people (And I had leftovers which I don't mind eating.)

If you'd like to join a book discussion groups with fabulous books, cooks and food, the next book on the reading list is Mysteries of the Kabbalah, call me, and I'll give you directions.

WRITING

I thought I'd start blogging right away this morning because my head is full of words and some of them, the ones formed into actual sentences, are clamoring to get out.

I'm not exactly inspired or eager. I just have a lot to say and no one around to talk to.

Besides I have to put off vacuuming to the last minute. I do better with a deadline. And a friend I've known since mid-school is stopping by on her way from L.A., CA to someplace else. She has this really cool van with extra headroom and a queen sized bed and a warm feather comforter.

She's fearless of driving on freeways and around cities. I guess it's the training she's had on treacherous CA freeways. (I, on the other hand, live in the country far enough away from a SMALL city, so I don't need to drive on freeways.) On I-40 in Albuquerque people actually let you into traffic when your coming from an on-ramp. Except the people from out-of-state. Theey're most likely from CA. And trucks don't count being filled with crazy truck drivers apparently above the law.

My friend thinks nothing of driving three-thousand miles alone. She pulls over into parking lots at night to sleep. (Godforbid, is it a WalMart parking lot?)

I have two questions for her that I don't have the guts to ask. Is she armed? And does she have a port-a-potty in there?

Also this morning, I can see my reflection in the computer screen and my hair, from sleeping all night, is a mess. I look like a 1960's NY artist. I plan to take a shower and fix my hair after I vacuum, right after she calls and says she's nearly here.

I just can't tear myself away from writing sometimes. Especially when my brain keeps streaming me words like Netlix streams me movies.

I have to let the ideas out or my head might explode splattering words everywhere. Another thing I'd have to vacuum up.

I took my last two blog entries off this blog Advising Myself? And started a new one called Advising Myself Too (get it? too/two?) They had "adult" words and I have to post a "warning. I've always thought people who talked cuss words and dirty remarks were not "adult" but rather immature.

There you go.

I do love to cuss as much as I love to use big, intellectual words to show how smart I really am and not immature. I guess some people just think that's stupid.

You know the difference between dumb and stupid, don't you? My son told me this about 20 years ago (when he was 11.) Dumb is when you don't know anything. Stupid is when everything you know is wrong.

Perhaps you've heard that old joke. Sorry. I'm not dumb or stupid. The worst I can be chastised for is either trying to show I'm smarter than other people, or of dumbing myself down so people will think I'm normal like them. See? I use bad grammar to ingratiate myself to the masses.

I hope you check out my other blog Advising Myself Too. I think the entries (two so far) have more to offer than this silly blog; that is, if you can stand reading assorted "adult" words and the occasional f-word. (BTW, I think blogspot might have a computer that scans for dirty words. I can't imagine a real person reading these blogs.)

So, where was I?

Ah, words. This blog is for and about writers today. Specifically it's about breathing. Or writing about it. I know writers are looking for new and exciting words to say the same old thing over and over. But, come on, some of these things are just awful.

My pet peeve is the narrative containing "He took a deep breath and blew it out." It brings to mind an image of a guy pursing his lips and blowing like he's putting out this birthday cake.

The expression "He took a deep breath and let it out slowly," brings to mind one of those seminars where some guru is trying to teach an auditorium to visualize or meditate. He can even say, "Take a deep breath and blow it out." if it's for dramatic effect and emphasis.

Why can't the writers just say, "He took a deep breath." I mean, the exhale is a given, right? We all know you breathe out after you breathe in. Unless of course you want to set a mood and convey something like a victim dangling from a noose. "He took a deep breath and gasped for air." Now that would be descriptive enough to give you an inkling that you're reading something like Stephen King.

Well, that's it. That's my message today. (I'll bet some writers just cringe when I write "well" at the beginning of a sentence. But if I write like I talk, well, "well" is a good word to set a mood and let you know it's a blog and not horror novel.)

I have to go clean up the house. And then myself. Though, I've heard it said (Dear Abby?) that people come to you, not your house. It helps if they don't step in something sticky. Although, getting covered in cat hair from the waist down is a given, right?

Thanks for reading me!



Cat Clip Art

What is Cyberspace?

Illustration courtesy of Brain Waves, LLC. Clker.com

Have you ever wondered what happens to the words and pictures on posts and letters when you enter them into your computer and press send?

I can understand where money goes when you order something online. Some sort of electronic brain adds you to a list; then a person then puts the item in a box with your address and ships it to you. (Or are boxing and labeling done by machines now?) Do you ever wonder why there's not more mistakes. For instance, you ordering a book on automobile repairs and get a used DVD of old Lawrence Welk shows?

The electronic "stores" zap the money out of your account into their account. Simple.

Banking on line is getting more amazing than that. We can actually deposit checks from our computers and our cell phones.

So you send an image of your check. This picture of your check enables your bank's computers to zap money out the other guys bank into your account. It seems fool-proof, right? George Doe won't be able to zap your deposit into his off shore Cayman account. Unless he has a smarter computer than your bank. It's just a matter of time. Hopefully the rate of technological change will stay one step ahead of him.

However, I do wonder what money really is if it isn't wrinkled green pieces of paper and little round disks with dead politicians' pictures on them.

Where does information fed into computers actually go? When I click publish on my blog and turn off my computer where are the words stored? Someplace in computerized warehouse with humongous storage bins of electronic drawers? Or does it just linger in the air between your computer and other peoples computers?

Just where is facebook really? Where is blogspot? And where the hell are Amazon and Netflix? Are they buildings, people or are they just a gigantic brain called world wide web?

Many stores can send movies and e-book instantly to our computers, TVs, and other amazing electronic devices like Wii and Kindle. Where ARE these e-books and movies before someone zaps them to you (and zaps away your money?) At least you can see books on a shelf at the bookstore or movies projected on a screen at the theater.

When televisions and phones were invented, we had an idea where the pictures and sounds came from. Much like light coming out of incandescent light bulbs, it was wires coming out of walls and strung on electric & telephone poles that connected us to the outside world. Right?

Then we found out that televion and radio waves are traveling invisibly through the air in each and every direction. (Air's oxygen and other elements, thank God.) THen again, have you alwasy wondered, along with me, whether these waves go around us or straight through us as they make their way to a receiver?

If anyone has a clue let me know what cyberspace is and more inportantly where it is. Surely it's more than just a concept?

Try not to wonder too much. Computers do most of everything for us, why not let them do it?

DICHOTOMIES or in other words, WHAT?????

I have some questions about some things in America that are contradictory besides the obvious such as "we park on a driveway and drive on a parkway."

Why is it, if we think of something bad it happens almost immediately, and what we want to happen never happens? Oh, I did drop a jelly bread that landed jelly side UP once.

Why can't most Americans understand accents from the British Isles when the British actually speak English?

Then again, in Leap Year, Matthew Goode spoke with an Irish accent and Amy Adams--"Anna from Boston"--spoke with her Californian accent and didn't even try to put on a Boston accent?

Speaking of accents, what about those actors using foreign accents to simlate a foreign language? If they were really speaking their own languages would they have accents? Why couldn't they just talk normally and let us assume they're speaking in their own languages? (Or speak in that language and use subtitles? (More movies are doing that. And why don't Americans learn second languages? Spanish in elementary, French in mid-school, German in high-school, and a choice in college? Maybe I should mention British, but that's supposed to be English. (Oh yeah, I forgot, they invented English.)

Exception: In The Man in the Iron Mask it was refreshing to see the three musketeers played by John Malkovich who spoke with his Chicago accent, Gérard Depardieu who spoke with his French accent and that other guy (Jeremy Irons) who had an English accent. The fourth musketeer d'Artagnan had a generic American accent (if there is such a thing.) It might have been embarrassing, but it was realistic. Bravo to the producer who allowed it. (Who knows? He might have given up. And if they were speaking in British accents, who would understand them?)

What's with a fourth musketeer in movie about the three musketeers anyway?

Why is it, too, that when you are married you have to fend off admirers, and when you're single and lonely there's nobody to be found?

Why is it when you're young you haven't got a clue about life and when you get wisdom and know how to use your brains you're too old to do anything with it? (Well, you can write blogs nobody reads.)

Why is it when you're young and start writing you don't have any experiences to write about and no writing knowledge, and when you're good at writing you can't remember which characters are which and what they said (or their eye color?) (I think it was Tony Hillerman who admitted he forgot a complete character.)

Why is it when you're working you have the money to do things and when you're not working you're broke? And when you're working you have plenty of time to do things, and when you're working you're too damn tired to do anything, let alone have time?

Why is it when you're young you don't appreciate your parents and when you realize they were pretty great they're dead? Same goes for your kids, not dead, but no longer sweet little babies you can lavish with love anymore?

What was that silly saying? "You don't miss the water til the river runs dry." Of course not. How can you "miss" something you still have? It should say, "You don't appreciate the water til the river runs dry." That must apply to everything.

How come you don't appreciate how thin you were when you first started thinking you were fat? When you're really get fat, oops, too late...

What's that saying, "You get what you deserve" only applies when something bad happens to you? To get good things you have to work hard and earn it?

I am so glad that when I order a ham and swiss sandwich with mayo on rye bread, I actually get ham and swiss with mayo on rye.

See my Movie Opinions Blog at www.sandy-schairer.blogspot.com

Movie Opinions vs. Movie Reviews

See my other blog: Movie Reviews
www.sandy-schairer@blogspot.com

I don't really write movie “reviews.” I add personal things to my Movie blog, so it doesn’t count as review. I don't care what people watch. But I do believe life is too short to watch bad movies. We can use all the help we can get as we wind our way through the isles of video stores, Netflix or Amazon websites, or flipping our way through television channels.

I think the movies the media raves about, no one really likes. The ones I like no one even sees. Hardly anyone. There is ME and the people that make them. And perhaps their relatives.

I think movies are the meaning to life. Fiction can be more real than real life. Have you noticed? Even ones based on true stories seem real.

Okay. Okay. I’m trying to be witty. But it's true. When I started being witty women weren't allowed to be witty. People who read my stuff frequently don't get my humor. One comment on facebook said they hoped I found something to make me happy soon instead of sounding so negative and sarcastic. What was his excuse?

I like older movies. With more recent movies I have a tendency to rent one and then buy it and watch it a bunch more times. I think that might be obsessive/compulsive, but it’s more fun than washing ones hands a million times a day. (If I were afraid of germs, I would've never had kids. I mean they're germy little things--children. (Not those other things you're thinking of.)

However, I have overcome my compulsion to shop and spend dozens of dollars on things I don’t really need. Like, I can either lose weight or gain some to fit perfectly into the clothes I already have.

I also get hooked on an actor or actress and watch all their movies, similar to reading all the books of a certain author. In order. I do that too.

I have been falling in-love with movie stars since I was 8. I think the answer is reincarnation. I knew those old Hollywood guys in a previous life. For instance, I loved Clark Gable. I think I was just a wanna-be actress who partied her self to death. (I don’t think partied is a real word. I hope I spelled it right.)


It's good to express myself in my blogs. Sort of like therapy. It’s good I have something to do (like write.) I like staying at home in winter. Only thing I must go to is doctor appointments and therapy. Therapy is starting to help. I do better when I act like an adult. I am building up my confidence more now. How else would I get the nerve to put this out into cyberspace? I wonder if Woody Allen has a blog? Could’ve saved himself a lot of money over the years on psychoanalysis.

I guess I could call my blog "Diary of a Mad Widow" (remember that old movie Diary of a Mad Housewife? I fell in love with the actor in that movie. He's ugly now and was in that horrid movie The Box. Icky. (Sorry Frank, nothing personal.)

My shrink put me on antidepressants because all I could do was sit here and cry and fee awful. I now sit here and watch movies and knit but I’m way happier. Life’s a blast no matter what you think, feel, say or do. No seriously, it is. Try it.

When the weather warms up I plan to travel. I’m taking my dog. I spend a lot of time treating my dog like a baby. She has a bad hip (so do I) so we can keep up with each other.

I like having her in my room at night because she wakes me up early. The only problem with that is feeling sleepy at 8:30 PM. Bad news if I happen to be out driving.

So...I reveal all my inner activities while other people tell me things they actually do. My therapist says I'm an introvert. No duh. Manic Depressive too. Known that for 50 years. Now that I am being treated for it I should probably find something to do with my life.

Oh, I do have something I do! I'm in a book study Monday nights. We’re reading Tibetan Book of the Dead with commentary. Mostly we bring dinner and visit with each other after reading out loud. We don't understand what we're reading so we can't really discuss it.

I make the effort to get dressed and go to church now and then, mostly to see my friends. I met my late husband at church in 1987. But meeting men that way isn’t going to work for me anymore. I used to attract men with sex and money. I need a blind boyfriend who doesn’t want to go shopping.

Now I hang out with my women friends, all other writers. They make me feel cool. And normal.

Thanks for letting me get this off my chest. (What does that mean?) Like that girl who said in Imagine Me and You her teacher always said (imagine English accents.) "There's no problem insoluble given a big enough plastic bag." The character she was cheering up asked, "What does that mean?" They were both very cool in that movie. One of them was nine.

I’d better quit now and go see what my daughter-in-law fixed for lunch. Oh yeah. I’m home alone. One of these days I’m gonna learn how to cook. My kids would have appreciated that.

Toodle-ooo

If It Isn't Sumptin, It's Sumptin Else

I'm sure you remember the quote as the title of this post from SNL's Gilda Radner when she was Roseanne Roseannadanna. She said, It's what my father always said, "If it isn't something, it's something else."

Luckily, my Dad was a handyman and did everything around the house...including carpentry, plumbing, electrical, yard work, everything except dishes, if I remember right.

My beloved husband was all that and more. He built our house nearly single-handily and kept it running for 20 years. My son said Ed was a superman. Ed started on the house a little over 20 years ago. Now it's staring to break down like one of our cars. Conveniently, Ed left here before all the problems started. I can't really blame him. It was cancer.

I recently had a new roof put on after the hail damage. Luckily it was covered by insurance. If it was up to me, I could've bought a lot of buckets for $15 G's. Unfortunately, I chose the wrong roofer to do the job. There is a bunch of things that I don't like about the job, one of which is the whole damn thing, the quality of the work, the company's attitude. etc., etc. etc. Not least of which is the fools he hired to do the actual work and I think they took out the glass out of the skylights which weren't even broken and put the plastic domes on without replacing the glass. Duh. I don't know if I have to call that disagreeable man or call a skylight guy. It's up to my insurance agent. (I still have to get a stucco man over to replace the stucco that the roofers chipped off. One patch is really big. The insurance adjuster said the insurance would pay for the replacement of the roof (less my deductible. Thank goodness I already paid that.)

Last summer we had the problem of our well pump filling the pressure tank to maximum pressure making it spew huge amounts of water into the backyard. We called an electrician and he replaced the part--34-bucks. No, that was the cost of the part. He had to come out to our house in the mountains twice--once to look at it and once to go get the part. He got lost on the way here and drove about 20 or 30 miles out of his way to get here. Around a couple extra mountains as a matter of fact. And charged me for the time it took for him to find his way back to civilization. I'm sure he charged me an hour or two of time to change the part even though it took him a half hour, and for coming out on a Saturday. (It's real hard for us spoiled Americans to go without water for very long.)

This winter when it dipped down below zero, WAY below zero this time, our pipes froze up (second time.) My son turned everything off (again without water for several days.) The pipes unfroze fortunately but now something is leaking. He said it's the switch from the pump to the pressure tank so we had to decide whether to call an electrician or a plumber.

I called five different plumbing companies before I found one that would even listen to me. They are all booked up for days because of all the frozen/broken pipes in the mountains (and other places in NM.) This kind-hearted guy is sending one of his men over here between big jobs to look at it and fix it since he has a couple of those parts in his truck right now. YAY. The only good news I've had in a long time.

Well, I'm waiting for good news from my nephew and his wife who are expecting a baby in the next several weeks. That's the kind of news I want. Really good news to offset the bad news I've been dealing with at home.

One of the most aggravating things is not having propane delivered anymore. The cost of the propane was getting prohibitive in the last few years and last winter and this, it was too much to contemplate. The large tank costs 1000 bucks to fill up plus I imagine it costs something to get the tank delivered and installed. Even if we get the smaller tank, the company won't deliver any propane unless we snow plow the driveway. Plus we have to guarantee we'll buy so many gallons over the year. Just to heat water, no way we'd reach that. I am tempted to put in an electric hot water heater but our electricity bill is WAY out of site in the winter.

All we do now with propane is heat the hot water with it. We had a medium sized portable tank but it was too big to carry in any of our vehicles. Besides you can't carry a full propane tank inside a closed vehicle anyway. So...guess what...we have three little barbecue sized tanks for the hot water. When they run out we sometimes have to wait a few days to get hot water back again...we evidently can't go without hot water either.) When my son is at work from dawn to dark no one's here who knows how to hook them up. No me nor my daughter-in-law. It's all we can do to run the washing machines. We use cold water for that anyway.

So the headaches of owning your own house. And getting too old to work on it. Or having a son that can do just about anything fixing a to a big semi truck but doesn't know jack about fixing stuff around the house.

On top of all that. My computer wouldn't come on this morning. I panicked, of course, thinking I'd have to take it to the repair guy again. Not my favorite thing to do considering it costs me $$$ every time I take it in, and I have to put up with the guy hitting on me while I'm there. Luckily I lucked out this time, haha...my computer ran a diagnostic, figured out what was wrong, and did a system restore to fix itself. It's fine. Whew. (Well, you wouldn't be reading this if it weren't fine, huh?)

I'm sure my friends are getting sick of me complaining. So, believe me when I say, I can't handle anymore crises right now.

I think I'll go eat some cookies.

My weekend

This has not been MY weekend for entertainment.

I went to a play at Little Theater in Albuquerque last night. At least I think it was Albuquerque since I couldn't find the damn place. I don't trust Mapquest anymore because it sent me through some pretty creepy areas downtown, from a well-lighted well-known thoroughfare into a very dark neighborhood with a couple of dead-end streets.

This was after I drove from the East Mountains down Sedillo Hill on I-40 in the pitch dark all the way to the Rio Grande exit that's just short of the Rio Grande River (yes, the real Rio Grande.) This trip included driving through the Big I (major freeway interchange that looks like the interchanges in California.)

The Big I is scary even with the sun shining and moderate traffic. The traffic on Friday and Saturday nights in Albuquerque is worse than rush hour on weekdays because ALL the streets are jammed with traffic not just the freeways. And Albuquerque is a small city. Yow.

Coming into town from my side of the mountains, I saw two big semi's coming down the road behind me driving side by side, neck to neck. I got a bad feeling when I saw they were gaining on me and I was doing 65 (the speed limit. Hey-hey.)

When they caught up to me one changed lanes and they sped past me still neck and neck, one on each side of me. It was terrifying. It was like driving between two moving skyscrapers. I have a little Ford Focus. I hate passing trucks or have them pass me mainly because they can't even see me.

Coming home I took a wrong turn onto Central (I think it was Central) and drove around and around downtown for a half hour including driving on a one-way street going the wrong way. I was completely lost and had no idea where I was. I have never driven downtown except when I went to court for jury duty and then once to bail someone out of jail.

On a Saturday night, too, downtown's crawling with the nightlife going to and fro for clubs or whatever the hell they do downtown. I finally found a street I recognized (the name only, since it was too damn dark to see anything. I made a quick turn and then got off of it instead of sticking it out. Then driving through a dark neighborhood I got tired of sitting at a red light when there was absolutely no one coming for a mile in each direction. So I drove through the red light (after looking, or course. I was sober and not stupid.)

I guess the thing I learned from this experience is that everything out there looks way different after dark. Even my own yard. Especially when there's no moon. And no lights out here in the mountains. Downtown made up for no lights, however.

I am determined not to go downtown ever again. If I get called for Jury Duty again I'm having someone drive me to the front door. Someone who knows where they're going.

Little Theater has been remodeled in recent years. They made it bigger. And put the seats closer together. I was in the middle of a row squished between other people with less leg (and arm) room than the average airplane seat. On top of that the woman in front of me was tall and I had to keep leaning from side to side or tilting my head from side to side which gave me a really nice neck ache.

I got there early because I was part of group of Sisters in Crime local chapter Croak and Dagger. We are the Albuquerque mystery writers and readers group. Last time we came to a play as a group, we were seated in the second row and the director of Little Theaters announced Sisters in Crime was there and had us stand up for applause. This time were sitting near the back and not acknowledged. Heck, as celebrities go we don't have many in Albuquerque. You'd think they'd be thrilled to let people know a group of writers were present. Oh well.

On top of that, the play that I can't even remember the name of (I think it was Sherlock Holmes Last Case) was terrible. Not only could I not see it, I couldn't hear it or understand it. The various actors performed with various bad accents passing badly for English and cockney, and some other unintelligible accents. One woman was talking in a high pitched voice with some sort of mangled accent and I couldn't understand a word she said.

On top of that she had a bad wig which came down so far on her forehead that I couldn't see her eyes. Not that I could anyway being seated so far back in the theater.

So that's the story on that.

And then today I got my next Matthew Goode movie from Netflix. It was one of his earlier films. Chasing Liberty and was a terrible movie. The actors were totally unconvincing. They looked as bored as I was. The girl was still a teenager, and the premise was stupid. It was just not believable. No heart. No intelligence. Dumb, dumb, dumb. Wait, the scenery was good but probably fake.

I can understand what Matthew Goode meant when he said in an interview that Leap Year was Chasing Liberty all over again. Many of scenes were major repeats of scenes in Leap Year. Only in Chasing Liberty they were awful. (At least in Leap Year the acting was good and showed a great deal more heart. The young people in Leap Year were older and took life a bit more seriously.

So if it snows here like the weather channel predicts, I will be snowed in with Chasing Liberty instead of the next Matthew Goode movie on my Netflix queue. WAAAAAAAAAA

Clothes & Size

I never thought I'd ever say this but all my damn clothes are too small for me.

I recently donated about two car fulls of clothes and other things to thrift stores (some were my late husband's clothes.) I donated the too old ones, the too boring ones, the too big ones, and some too small ones. Now I'm stuck between sizes and nothing fits.

It's like donating all the baby clothes and equipment and then getting pregnant again.

After I recovered from my serious illness, spinal surgeries, and open heart surgery in 2009, I weighed 120 lbs. for awhile. I was so scrawny that I cried every time I looked in a mirror. I looked 80 years old. Then I started walking and getting healthier (eating again after not eating for a year.) I started exercising and gaining weight. (A good deal of it was muscle that I regained.) At least I plumped out my wrinkles and sagging skin so I didn't look death warmed over anymore.

Thank goodness I didn't get up to what I used to weigh. It took an XL to cover me. Recently I'm able to fit into some of the clothes I used to have to squeeze into uncomfortably.

I have lost 10 lbs. recently without even trying. I am just not as hungry as I used to be. And my appetite for certain foods has lessened. I don't eat a lot of sweets anymore nor do I pop popcorn every night anymore.

I think part of the secret is to stick to that saying, "Don't eat after seven at night." If I get up early and I'm ready to get into bed, I'm too lazy to get back out of bed to go to the kitchen. Or fix something. I can't keep food in my room because the dog might sniff it and chomp into it in the middle of the night.

So, I guess I'll have to go shopping for some medium sized pants or else go try to find my former clothes at the thrift store.

Funny Ha Ha and Funny Strange

Since I am fairly sure none of my family, friends (or strangers, for that matter) are reading my blog and I'm writing for myself, (or is that to myself?) I might as well write what I want. And if you don't like it, you can just piss off (I say that because I am not sure I can say fuck off on blogspot.)

Old Age & Dying
You know, people don't die from old age when they get old. They die from Hell-in-a-handbasket Syndrome. When old folks get to the point they are sure the world is going to hell in a handbasket, they' ready to kick the bucket. If they aren't, they should be.

God
I do believe in an afterlife, but I'm still out to lunch on the issue of God. I would prefer Him to be a Her, quite frankly. I guess if I don't "believe" in God, I should go the the Unitarian Church. They don't mention God.

I like that anonymous comment on bumper stickers "Heck is where you go if you don't believe in Gosh." Read a bumper sticker near you. (I think that was a bumper sticker, too.)

I loved Ricky Gervais on YouTube discussing his views on religion in an interview. He said, "If there is a God, why did he make me an atheist?" I'm still laughing at that. The man is never going to hell in a handbasket.

If hell exists. Maybe hell is a handbasket.Hmmm.

I love Ricky Gervais's humor. I thought he was funny at the Golden Globe Awards. I'm sorry now I didn't watch it.

Internet
I saw an announcement on television (I think it was the Albuquerque weather channel) for the Marine Corp. They ended with that great picture of the men standing in their dress uniforms with the cool slogan: THE PROUD, THE FEW, THE MARINES, and I am sure I saw (in small print) marines.com.

Everything is dot com now. I wonder if you can truly join the military online. What do they do then? Come to your house and induct you? Drive up in the bus and pick you up? Or do they induct you on the internet or closed circuit TV?

Signs (No, I'm not talking about that Mel Gibson movie)
I'm sure you all (Who?)have seen the young people along side the road (or in the medians) holding up the sign (usually hand written) to draw you into restaurants and car washes. I saw one just a couple days ago for a new donut shop. That was very helpful since I drive by that location frequently and am I a sucker for donuts. Next time I'll slow down below the speed limit and try to turn in the parking lot. I hope they have drive up, since I am usually is a big hurry. But there's no time like the present for a donut.

Then I saw, a block farther down the same road, a guy holding a sign saying "Move in special. 2 bedrooms. Utilities paid." What the hell??? Is someone who happens to be driving by gonna say, "Hmmm. I think I'll have a donut." and then, "Oh. An apartment. I think I'll stop in and move," huh?

This is a bizarre world. Maybe it's going to hell in a handbasket. Oh no. Am I that old already?



Yeah, I DO think I'm funny (Image of handbasket I borrowed from the internet. So sue me.)