Saturday, September 13, 2014

Do you think you'll be a spring chicken again?

One chicken to another, "And how is your life going?"

All spring
chickens get
old. Proof of
the pudding,
here are 2 of
the baby
chicks that
I got in

It seems like
lately all
I hear is,
"You ain't
no spring

All I want to say is, "Screw you. Don't you think I have mirrors.
I can see that."

As a dancer most of my life, it saddens me even more to watch
my head jut forward as my shoulders and back become rounded.
And the very, very worst thing happening to this "has-been spring
chicken"  is that when I try very hard to straighten up, I
absolutely can't.  I am frozen in a hideous position that is 2 inches
shorter than my former self.  What is this sucky old age that is
touted to be "the golden years." Blaat....

I should have asked what you want first, the good news or the bad
news but I just gave you the bad news first.  Rejoice....... there is
good news.  I have discovered that young people can be old inside
and old people young, depending on how much one uses the short
muscles that support the large ones.  People go to a gym every
day and work on the same large muscles without ever giving a
thought to what supports those hunkers.

To wonderful new technology:  I hate you because you rattle my
brain, but I also love you because you transport me miles
from home  where I can inject knowledge into my shrunken
brain cells.

I've been taking exercise lessons by Skype from a wonderful
gal who had cured herself of this old age malady when she was
very young and for 30 years she has helped others regain the
height they lost and for instance, are able to clip their own
toe nails again. (You have to be where I was, to fully appreciate
what this toe-nail thing means.....Ha)

The exercises are totally different from the ones you would
do in a gym and she keeps adjusting a program that is uniquely
designed to strengthen each person's core.  My friend,
Marilyn has been doing this a year and has already gained back
the 2 inches she's shrunk. I have a long way to go but joy
of joys and hallelujah, I can again balance on one leg, yoga style, without a
wobble.  That alone is back to spring for this old chicken. LOL

How's your springy chicken do'n?
PS..I don't understand computers at all. I first published this post
and it was lined up the way I wanted it and after a day it took off
on it's own and ended up all crazy. I don't know how to change
it without doing the whole thing over. and age.
Double blatt

Monday, September 8, 2014


Do you ever think
of strawberries? I
do. I recall the tiny
sweet wild berries,
growing around
our cabin in Northern
MN. Pure ambrosia
of the gods.  You
could lie down in
a patch and eat
your way into a
state of bliss.

That was also
around the time
when   Ingmar
Bergman's movie
"Wild Strawberries"
came out. (mmmm think I'll have to see that movie again)

All of these thoughts popped into my mind like a mini jolt
of lust when my neighbor asked if I wanted some
strawberry plants. Suddenly,  reality of the govt. food
regulatory agencies came to mind and I thought of the large
attractive strawberries that now dress up the produce
departments but taste like one of Cody's dog chews.

Also remembering how they send out the long runners and
take up so much room, I was about to tell the neighbor, "no"
when she went on to say they were Alpine, tiny little berries
that produced no runners but stayed in a clump. uummm, I
 thought for a second and said, "I would be happy to take
some plants."

I planted 5 small plants that flourished into round molds
of lush green, dripping with tiny red berries of a decadant
memory. OMG they ARE the wild strawberries of my past.
I've been reliving an old movie all summer.

Remember runners....round clumps and
sheer lust.

Sunday, August 31, 2014

No, It's Not Easter, It's The Real Deal

An unexpected event took place
yesterday. I entered the chicken
coop and found 3 perfect pullet
eggs in the nesting box. How
exciting. That meant 3 of my
girls had started to lay. All I
could think was, truly organic
eggs for breakfast as I was
about to snatch the eggs from
resting place.

I withdrew my hand because
I had a better idea.

My little neighbor boy, who
has just turned 2, loves to
carry on a tender conversation
with the chickens as he feeds them veggie scraps from their table. He brings over most
of his parent's visitors so they too can get acquainted with the chickens. I laugh as
 I've watched some of the reluctant guests draw back in fear as the tame chickens
surround them.

I wasn't even aware if he knew that chickens layed eggs but I felt it was more befitting
for  this adorable child to gather the first eggs for his breakfast. His expression was
 priceless as his small baby hands gently placed each egg in the basket. I realized this
was a marvelous way to begin teaching kids about life and where our food chain comes

When a hen goes broody, I'll have to get some fertile eggs for her to sit on
and hatch. (No roosters allowed in town, so no chance of having our own fertile eggs)

I'm closing this by saying, "Chickens are delightful pets and teachers."

Monday, August 25, 2014

86 That Person

Have you ever been 86'd? 86, meaning kicked out, told to leave, given
the boot? I was curious as to how that phrase came about so I looked
it up and found many conflicting origins. The one most given was in
the 20's there was a code number of 86, meaning a restaurant or soda
fountain was out of an item. They would yell 86.

I ran into a friend that I hadn't seen in a while and she said, "Do you
remember when we were 86'd from the widow's club? I didn't but
once reminded, I now recall.  Sounds a little harsh, kicking grieving
widows out of a club. Actually there were 3 of us who got the boot. Our sin
being we also belonged to the Oasis Club and this club didn't want those
widows. Hahaha.... what a deal! That was 14 years ago and we had all
just recently lost our husbands.

Groucho Marx said, "I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would
have me as a member." He also said, "Wives are people who feel they
don't dance enough.  In some quirky way, I can relate to both.
Do you want your hair to grow? Cut it when the moon is in Leo.  Truth.
I'm a truthsayer, meaning would I lie to you?  I always want my hair to
grow. When they were giving out hair, I was in the wrong line. I was
in the boob line so I ran over to the hair line, that was closed and by the
time I got back to the boob line, that was closed too. Get the picture?


OMG  It's almost September. It brings on a September song but don't
worry, I won't sing it. (I may hum a little) Next month Terry from
My Journey with Candida, and her adorable husband are coming to
Montana for elk hunting. She's bringing sequins and we're going to
get all gussied up and hit the casinos, floozy style. We have sooooo
many plans and you know there will be a plethora of poop and worm

Gotta run. A handi-man is coming to re-design the chicken coop.
What a life my chickens have. Just lay me an egg a day and I'll be
your slave. LOL

Friday, August 15, 2014

There really is someone older than I am.

No pictures. This is from my old mac. That failure of the vid in my last post was
most likely the fault of this worn out computer which has served me well. I
have a brand new mac that hates me but not as much as I hate it. Why do they
have to make things more complicated when they seem to be working just fine?

Do you know anyone with more years under their belt than I have?  I do.
Her name is Lo (from Lois) and she is 87. Yup, she has 2 years on me. I
love Lo because she is so free and honest. I thought I was but Lo reaches
out beyond. You can feel her attitude of, "I'm me and I don't give a sh__
what anyone thinks."

She'll say it just that way too. Boy can she swear. I heard cuss words I
never knew existed and if that is the way she feels, it's OK with me.  We
both have poor eyesight and she never proof reads. I'm getting there.

Lo's husband was a jazz musician and she occasionally plays some of
the most toe tapp'n jazz. I think some of it is his, some not.

Her writing is funny to the point of often putting me in hysterics.  Now
days, her health is not the best and she evidently spends more time in
bed and compains about it but in a very humorous way. Her posts have
bigger spaces inbetween and I don't know if her eyesight is good enough
for her to read many blogs. She used to read mine, I know and I do
appreciate that. I wish I had her gift for writing.

Her blog is "It's Always Something" in case you want to take a peek.

I just received a back order of a new watering can, a Peter Rabbit style
that does not leak water. I waited all summer for it and I can see why
everyone wants one. But get has a big sticker on the can that
says it has a 10 year guarantee. means I'm OK with it until
I'm 95. I suppose then, I'll have to get a new one. LOL
OMG...It's almost time for my exercise class on Skype and I have to do that on
Ms Priss New Computer. I have to get gussied up a little for that. LOL

Monday, August 11, 2014

Are Your Ducks in a Row?

It's good to see that someone has their ducks in a row. I've been trying to
do just that, all summer. But now the asters are beginning to bloom and 
that means summer's gone, kaput, finished, the end. Am I sad or a little
blue (like the Grumpster?) naw.......I'm ready to learn something new. 

I did learn a few tid-bits this summer that I'm tossing into my massive
tid-bit bag. I learned not to get too attached to neighbors..... they move.
Neighbors on all sides and neighbors next to the neighbors who move,
move. It's like dominos falling and I just moved back here.  Is it me? No,
I think they are all getting new agendas. I saw the new houses of 2 neighbors
and they are leaving their beautiful trees and moving into a treeless hot
lot. Oh well, perhaps the new houses have a sun porch BUT they
wouldn't need a sunporch with shade trees. Not my concern.

I'm always disappointed when liars pants don't explode in flames. That
would be the simple way to identify liars or the long nose trick. Both
would work equally well and we could cross the street, if we happened
to see one approaching but we woudn't want to get run over by an
oncoming fire truck trying to quench the pants.

It wasn't a plan to stay away from blogging all summer but it slowly evolved
as my delight in gardening gained momentum. I realize many of my bloggie
friends thought I had bit the dust... emote (I think that's the Arabic word).
Still kick'n, still going to post. I hope everyone had a delightful summer,
got lots of sunburn and did just whatever the heck pleases you.

Looking forward to visiting with you all, once again. Yay, it's good to
be back

Saturday, May 17, 2014

An Average Day

4 AM  Wake-up. My inner alarm just likes to wake up at this time so I turn on the computer and head over to Pat's "Rhyme Time" and write my rhyme.  If my rhyme makes sense, I know I'm alert for the day. WOW, mighty handy little check points.

4:05 AM  Roll out the yoga mat and do 21 reps each of 5 Tibetean yoga exercises. Creek, crack goes my spine but now I'm ready for the 30/30 plan.  If you're in the dark about this, it means, eat 30 % protein within 30 minutes after waking or the body goes into stress mode, thinking it isn't getting any protein and hoards fat.

4:15 AM    The yoga reps go fast and I'm ready for a spinach/pea powder smoothie with added supplements. Yuck on the taste but I can swallow anything if I know it's doing my body some good.  Next I have 3 egg yolks and a piece of sprouted grain bread with yummm..... butter. Butter, butter, butter..... my all-time favorite food but I look for unsalted organic and I add my own salt.... pink himalayan salt.

5 AM  I feed critters.... dog, cat and 5 chickens.

 6 AM finds me puttering out in the green house, watering, weeding, repotting and singing old 40's tunes from  from the top of my lungs with Cody howling because it hurts her ears. So much for my singing.

 By 8 AM my neighbor dropped off some 2x2  in. long lengths of left-over wood from some cabinets he's building. He thought they'd make great stakes for tomato plants and bingo, he is correct. We chatted and laughed about last evenings episode with the Barred Rock Chicken who didn't want to go in the coop. Bam... he nailed her with a fishing net and I grabbed her. He admitted that was the most action that net has seen. Ha

I grabbed my purse and was going to check out the string bark for paths at Wal-mart when I spotted the back of my work truck. Dang, I had forgotten to unload 25 bags of compost soil and this was not the way I wanted to begin my day. Neighbor had left for work so nothing to do but get out the wheelbarrow and begin hauling. OMG.... this is crazy.

By 9 AM I was in the Walmart nursery parking lot waiting for someone to load 10 bags of bark and wondering how they would get unloaded, since the 25 bags of dirt had taken every drop of my energy.

On the way home, my little truck drove right up to a "City" coffee hut. This day called for the zip that only coffee can give. I ordered a double espresso over ice but the cute little barista gave me a lecture on how to order it. She said the espresso had to go in the cup first and the ice added on top or there would be a burned taste. Shucks, it always tasted burned to me anyway and that's what I liked about it. But
I listened, she gave Cody her treat, I tipped her and left.

Next, I pulled into Agri Feeds to get pellets for the chicken coop floor.  The owner, a burly gentleman put a large bag of pellets in my pick-up and said there was no charge as he wanted me to try it and see if my chickens liked it better than the wood chips. People are just plain "nice" here.

I was home by 9:30 and suddenly knew a lucky duck was on my shoulder. Geno, my old handi-man who had moved to Boulder, was sitting in his van waiting for me. He was going to paint the chicken coop, the new tool shed and the garage ....AND.....he unloaded the bark.

That meant I could begin hoeing the compost into the garden soil.  Bam..... I suddenly remembered I had forgotten to tell the sprinkler guys that there is a leak in the system so Cody and I walked the 3 blocks to talk to the sprinkler people. A lovely walk this time of year because the whole town was fragrant with new fruit blossoms. Dale, the lawnmower service man who had worked there forever, was at the front desk. After lamenting how our mornings were going, I think his aim was to make me laugh with a joke. Here it is..... a 3-legged dog walked into a bar and said to the bartender, "Boy am I pissed.  I'm out to get the guy who shot my paw." I couldn't help but smile, especially at Dale's innocent effort.
He came around the desk and gave me a hug..... I don't know why but people just do that in these
Mayberry-like towns.

My life may sound pretty boring to most of you but neither can I imagine big city living and walking around  on hot cement all day.  Each person has a life to live that suits them. What a perfect world this is.  If so inclined, give us a peek into your life.