Tale of a Shooting Star…

Once upon a time, there lived a woman who had a maddening passion for baked beans. She loved them but unfortunately, they had always had a very embarrassing and somewhat lively reaction to her.

Then one day she met a man and fell in love. When it became apparent that they would marry she thought to herself, “He is such a sweet and gentle man, he would never go for this carrying on.” She made the supreme sacrifice and gave up beans.

Some months later her car broke down on the way home from work, since she lived in the country she called her husband and told him that she would be late because she had to walk home.

On her way, she passed a small diner and the odor of the baked beans was more than she could stand. Since she still had miles to walk, she figured that she would walk off any ill effects by the time she reached home.

So, she stopped at the diner and before she knew it, she had consumed 3 large orders of baked beans. All the way home she putt-putted, and upon arriving home she felt reasonably sure she could control it.

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Even if you aren’t a skier, you’ll be able to appreciate the humor of the slopes as written by a New Orleans paper:

A friend just got back from a holiday skiing trip to Utah with the kind of story that warms the cockles of anybody’s heart.

Conditions were perfect…12 below, no feeling in the toes, basic numbness all over…the “Tell me when we’re having fun” kind of day.

One of the women in the group complained to her husband that she was in dire need of a rest room. He told her not to worry, that he was sure there was relief waiting at the top of the lift in the form of a powder room for female skiers in distress. He was wrong, of course, and the pain did not go away. If you’ve ever had nature hit its panic button in you, then you know that a temperature of 12 below doesn’t help matters. With time running out, the woman weighed her options. Her husband, picking up on the intensity of the pain, suggested that since she was wearing an all-white ski outfit, she should go off in the woods and no one would even notice. He assured her, “The white will provide more than adequate camouflage.” So she headed for the tree line, began lowering her ski pants and proceeded to do her thing.

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Last night and again tonight, I had the pleasure of watching a fat little (?) bunny in our backyard. While I didn’t stop to watch him as much tonight, I enjoyed the show yesterday. He was placidly sitting on the grass, picking a blade and slowly nibbling it away, like sucking in a piece of spaghetti. He was the perfect specimen – pleasantly round, mottled brown with a fluffy white tail.

The part I really had to laugh at was watching him groom himself (or herself?) thoroughly before hopping a little further away to sit down to dinner. It was like a cat grooming itself. He would bring up one long back bunny foot, lick it and then scratch his ears. Then he turned his head around and licked his back, etc.

It’s funny just how much pleasure you can derive from the simply act of observing wildlife…

Sally was driving home from one of her business trips in Northern Arizona when she saw an elderly Navajo
woman walking on the side of the road. As the trip was a long and quiet one, she stopped the car and asked
the Navajo woman if she would like a ride. With a silent nod of thanks, the woman got into the car.
Resuming the journey, Sally tried in vain to make a bit of small talk with the Navajo woman. The old woman
just sat silently, looking intently at everything she saw, studying every little detail, until she noticed a brown bag on the seat next to Sally. “What’s in the bag?” asked the old woman. Sally looked down at the brown bag and said, “It’s a bottle of wine. I got it for my husband.” The Navajo woman was silent for another moment or two. Then speaking with the quiet wisdom of an elder, she said, “Good trade.”

A couple goes on a vacation to a fishing resort in Northern
Alberta. The husband likes to fish at the crack of dawn. The wife
likes to read. One morning the husband returns after several
hours of fishing and decides to take a nap.

Although not familiar with the lake, the wife decides to take
the boat out. She motors out a short distance, anchors and
continues to read her book. Along comes a game warden in his boat. He
pulls up alongside the woman and says, “Good morning Ma’am. What are you doing?”
“Reading a book,” she replies, (thinking “isn’t that obvious?”).
“You’re in a restricted fishing area,” he informs her.
“I’m sorry officer, but I’m not fishing. I’m reading.”
“Yes, but you have all the equipment. For all I know you could
take it out and start at any moment. I’ll have to take you in
and write you up.”
If you do that, I’ll have to charge you with sexual assault,”
says the woman. “But I haven’t even touched you,” says the game warden.
“That’s true, but you have all the equipment. For all I know
you could take it out and start at any moment.”
“Have a nice day Ma’am,” and he left…

MORAL: Never argue with a woman who reads. It’s likely she can think.

It’s true, I enjoy the Dr. Phil show. I’ve liked him since he started out on Oprah. I have to admit, though, that what I enjoy the most is watching him really dig into people’s stories and dragging the truth out of them. It’s refreshing to see someone who’s able to get to the heart of what people are really about.

So, naturally, when I saw that Dr. Phil was going to be drilling Omarosa today, I was a little excited. I’m one of those people who thinks that Omarosa did women (and black women, in particular) a serious injustice with the persona that she adopted on The Apprentice. The first thing she did on the Dr. Phil show today was to admit that she made a conscious decision to play the “naughty” girl so that she could get more airtime. So, I thought, “Great, she’s actually going to be honest and taken some ownership of her actions.” WRONG!

Dr. Phil asked her repeatedly why she is badmouthing Mark Burnett, Donald Trump and others associated with The Apprentice, saying that they need to be careful of their portrayal of black women on the show, when she chose to become who she was on the show. She skirted the actual question each and every time he asked it, claiming that she is not criticizing them, but that she’s doing research for her dissertation on the patterns and portrayals of black women and reality TV. So, in essence, she blames others for her own damaging actions.

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Honestly, I have no idea where that subject line came from. I was just sitting here, contemplating a blog entry and that solitary thought popped into my head. What it is and what it means are not currently within my grasp. Perhaps that’s why I had the thought? My brain is currently filled with fluff?

It’s been a rough day so far. I woke up in the middle of the night with painful stomach cramps which had me doubled over for a while. Once I returned to bed, I was able to sleep with a heating pad which helped, but much to my dismay they started again when I awoke in the morning. No time to just lay in bed with the heating pad again, so I forced myself to get into the shower and keep moving. Why can’t I seem to remember that I have medication for these cramps? Duh!

So, now I’m sitting here in front of my computer, my belly happily (and drowsily) digesting lunch and my brain fogging up. I guess it’s the post-lunch slow-down.

And now this post has been sitting in limbo, unfinished, for a couple of hours. And now the stomach cramps are back and it’s time to go home. Fortunately, the fog did end up lifting a bit, but I’m still tired. If the cramps persist, I’ll be working from home tomorrow. Which probably isn’t a half bad idea since I’m trying to work my way through a technical manual with tutorials that I need silence for so that I can concentrate.

Yup, working from home in my pajamas, or at least some sweats, is starting to sound better and better. It’s just too bad that it means I have to lug extra weight home in the form of large books and my planner, plus my new laptop which is at least 1 pound heavier than my old one…