New Years Eve brought us a wonderful, butt-wagging, foot-flapping surprise: Cruiser, our resident duck, came waddling back to our yard.Surprise of surprises! With Paul running to the kitchen tograb some multi grain bread, Mama Cruiser,who is leaner, began snorting,wiggling her way past the screen door.
She was as excited to see us as we were to see her-- at least 3 months have passed since her last visit.What better New Year’s than to haveOl’ Snorty back in our lives.
Funny how much we missed feather-butt and her almost daily visits. I was sure that my scolding had sent her off into a huff when she had voraciously grabbedthe bread from my hand, as well as my finger.
My New Year’s resolution--at least one? Cruiser, I promise not to quack at you!
I’m going under the microscope today. I feel like a bug in a Far Side cartoon. I warned my eye surgeon I’d better not see antennae sprouting from his head, or see that he’s suddenly transformed into a drooling mad doctor with a penchant for experimentation. I’m going into the O.R. with two eyes, doc--not three.
I’m not supposed to eat or drink before surgery. Right now, I’m smelling scrambled eggs and turkey bacon, and Tom just asked if I could make him some coffee. Cruel…
Another thing on the list is No Makeup. God help me…Halloween is over, isn't it? No lotions or perfumes--I’ll come out of surgery smelling like a rubber tire. Tommy Bahama…I need my Tommy!
I guess the hospital is afraid the patient might light up--literally. It’s happened: Combustible patients are really on the rise… Check the sprinkler system--quick!
I’ll be glad when the Trilogy of The Eye is done. Doctor Corrent said a few extra stitches should fix the leak. Thanks, doc… Winterize me while you’re at it! B-rrrr...
Looking for some greasy fries and McNuggets! [Paul's pic}
Commercials--you either hate them or love them. I’ve yet to see mama bear and her cubs in the woods with a roll of toilet paper. We’ve had a bear, but he was after our bird feeder. Personally, I’m a fan of White Cloud 3-Ply Ultra.
When it comes to geckos, the only ones I’ve seen are sunbathing on the lanai, pumping their tiny muscles: Up, down, up, down…
Car commercials really drive me nuts, with their high-octane spokespersons stoked on too many Red Bulls or Starbucks, screaming the month end sales pitches. I’ve never used the Mute button so much…
When it comes to nutrition bars, I’ve never been transported to or even thought of a mountain vista while eating one. If you look closely, most of the nutrition bars are loaded with too much sugar and carbs. I’d probably bike right off the mountain after eating one! I still grab carrot sticks for a snack.
I remember the shampoo ad with a gorgeous gal with lustrous locks who said, “Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful.” Don’t worry…never did, never will. I didn't like the shampoo which seemed to make my hair oily after a few days.
Beauty ads with young women are another gripe of mine. I’ve yet to see anyone past 40 in the skin firming ads. If you notice the before and after pictures, the lighting is always different, too.
The befores use a lighting position which accentuates the wrinkles and shadows. The after shots are always lighter because of fill lighting eliminating the before look.
I get a big kick from the automatic ab device ad. Apparently you don't have to exert needlessly to achieve a 6-pack. The guys and gals are always young in those ads, and it did take months of working out to look that way. If the ab device can do housework too, I'll order one!
Someday, maybe I’ll see an ad for a TV which automatically eliminates commercials. Until then…mute, mute, mute!
If the movies were casting for a pirate movie, I’d be perfect: I’ve been sporting a Pirate Pete black eye patch the last few days.
I had a setback, post cataract surgery, when a few stitches began weakening. My eye became watery and inflamed causing double vision, and sending me pronto to my surgeon. Years ago I had RK, which scarred and softened the cornea, leading to the existing problem.
So, ol’ Patchy now has a contact lens keeping added pressure applied to help stave the errant stitches and heal the eye. The lens adds to the double vision and lack of depth perception, so the patch helps, blocking that problem.
On a scale of 1-10 on Nancy’s Humor Scale, don’t expect too much ha-ha from me today. It’s still a little rough to see especially after taking the $200 eye drops, which really set me off the plank at the pharmacy where I stood dumbfounded, mouth open, in complete shock, that a tiny bottle of 10ml drops could cost that much. Funny thing is I apparently saved $60!.
Not one to be duped, I did some cyber investigating. I found the same drops selling anywhere from $30 to $90. Other pharmacies were charging $150. Even my surgeon was dumbstruck by my cost.
So, patch-covered and blood boiling a bit on my Richter scale, I faced the tall and mouthy young man who sold me the prescription. Like a Peanuts movie, I bleah-bleah blaaa blaad at him about my price discoveries and discrepancies. He became defiant, so I walked away and served the kid up to the store manager, vowing not to return to the store pharmacy.
Later, I attempted to make a pumpkin pie and added too much/too little of some ingredients. Jen and Paul complained of bubbling stomachs soon after taking a few bites. I must have a cast iron stomach, though I knew something was amiss.
I want to make some Christmas cookies, but I’m enlisting Jen to measure the ingredients. I don’t want to be responsible for any rolling and pitching stomachs.
As Christmas nears, Ahoy mates, swab the decks while yer at it!
I’m still trying to figure out what to make for Christmas dinner. I’ve been driving around scouting out the roadways, but there’s nothing worth picking up. Must have been a big sweep lately on raccoons, possums, and squirrels…
People living in the ‘glades aren’t close to any supermarkets. I’ve seen men pull their jacked up trucks over to the roadside, pick up and toss the unfortunate critter onto the truck bed. I think the wildlife are getting smarter: Keeping deep in the cypress swamp lands.
Recently I witnessed an egret cross an intersection on the green light, taking his time, then scooted into the landscaping near my frequented bookstore.
So now, scattered on the sofa, are several Holiday magazines with tantalizing dishes like Pecan Pork Loin, Roasted Orange-Glazed Game Hens. Hmmm… I sense the piggies are starting to bolt…
Before I write today's blog, I want to give accolades to my bedside nurses at Naples Day Surgery: To Lyn and to the “Jennifers” who were wonderful to me. You ladies put a big smile on my face. Hugs to all of you. And to Dr. George Corrent of Bascom Palmer Eye Institute in Naples, FL: You were the best in every way. Thanks, everyone.
* Elastic waist bands belong on underwear. Shoot me if I'm ever wearing polyester with elastic.
* Floaters: Everyone has them. Right now, I have a fly buzzing in my eye. Where’s my eye-swatter?
* Strands of my hair can be found everywhere. Thank goodness I have enough still left on my head. Birds in the neighborhood love me... * My bedroom slippers look like they’ve been occupied by a family of raccoons…
* Have cheese? Nah--give me cheesecake.
* Drive-thru banks should supersize my withdrawal…
* Ads at the movie: If I wanted to watch them, I would’ve stayed home and flipped on the TV.
* Uncontrollable emissions: air fresheners are in aisle 3-- there are noise abatement laws, too…
* Ever put a telemarketer on “hold”? Wouldn’t it be great if you had their phone number?
* Tom thinks if something’s not been used for awhile, toss it out…hmmm.
* My lovebird, Daisy, enjoys nibbling on my neck. Pretty thrilling…
* Self-cleaning oven: I haven’t seen mine move a muscle in months…
* Getting an order of chocolate truffles, and the delivery person leaves the box in my sweltering garage…
* Making a chocolate shake from my truffle order…
*Feng Shui works for some people. How do I feng shui bath towels and clothes left sprawled about? It’s kick butt time… * Don’t sweat the small stuff. If you have salt, make Margaritas…
I love the Chicken Soup For The Soul books. I could use some chocolate instead. I’m all chickened out.
I’m looking forward to my Swiss Colony order--free truffles with my order. It’s the only time that I get chocolates from somebody. I sure could have relished the chocolaty goodness yesterday.
I spent the greater part of Thursday fuming in my eye doctor’s office. I’d waited for only 10 minutes and was ushered into the exam room for a quick eye chart exam, given a pressure test, then ushered into a waiting room.
“You’ll be called soon, Nancy” the attendant said. I was hopeful that I’d be out within an hour at the most. I was planning on meeting my gal friend for a coffee afterward.
Two and a half hours later, my name was called--not after the poor souls who were waiting just as long, were conspiring to order up Pizza Hut for all of us. It was 5:45 by the time I’d been called into the office for my pre-op briefing.
I was hanging by a thread at that point, since my healthy lunch at 12:00 consisted of one piece of low sodium turkey, some carrot sticks, an apple, raw sunflower seeds and unsalted peanuts.
I had a raving gleam in my eye by the time I’d been called in. Someone had walked by the room, the smell of a Subway sub drifting under my nose.
We’d all been commenting on the fact the office should have had, at the very least, a plate of cookies--something--for the stranded patients. We’d learned the new girl had overbooked the one surgeon we were all seeing that day. Some patients were booked for the same time. Good Grief!
I know my son is always drilling me about staying on a good diet--no junk food-- but this morning I have thoughts of a guava danish from Whole Foods, if any are left. There’s always chocolate covered cherries, too, that I have stashed away for Christmas…
There is so much emphasis in the media on looking beautiful. There’s a prescription drug encouraging eyelash growth. What happens if it works so well that one’s eyelashes grow too long? I don’t want lashes that look like spider legs…
There’s also a ‘lunch time' lift--one can enter the procedure with a gobbler neck and droopy-dog eyes, and emerge soon afterward with bagless, perky goldfish eyes, the smooth neck of a dove, and $4000 lighter.
Women’s magazines have gorgeous cover models. Vixens. Long and leggy, expertly airbrushed, manicured and skimpily clad, the enticing women look as though they could have successful night jobs.
The cover tempts one to read the dangling carrot articles: How to make him scream for mercy, a turn back the clock’ miracle cream-- in my case I'd read the directions backwards and advance my clock by 10 years; colon cleansing for beauty--don’t accidentally use Drano; Lipo for waist and inner thigh bulges. With my luck I'd have a doctor who flunked out of Witch Doctor’s School.
As for Brazilian waxes--Never in a Million Sasquatch Years! Renee The Ripper can find a more willing victim for her Wax This list of clients. The beach is a perfect target. Run ,men, run!
It’s that time of year when grown men start climbing up ladders propped against their homes, strands of twisted Christmas lights looped around their necks.
I’m sure some wives would love to tighten a few of those light ropes just a bit… It’s a heated competition in the neighborhood to see which home can out-light the other.
One year, we had an idiot family living directly across the street--always in trouble with the law. Their last hurrah before moving away was to string as many lights as humanly possible over the roof of the house, much like Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation.
The woman’s boyfriend--we called him Joy-Boy, climbed over the roof, draping and stapling thousands of lights across the entire roof. J.B. started stringing at noon and his Gold’s Gym body didn’t finish to well after 1 a.m.
Our bedroom was suddenly lit up like a fireworks factory had exploded. I’m sure the Space Shuttle astronauts could have spotted their home.
It’s amazing how far some of the neighbors go to decorate. My neighbor and friend, Jimmie, a short and portly Italian, must have bought every Christmas decoration sold by Walmart. Every part of his home has something.
The blow up figures are the funniest since many of them semi deflate, so that half of the character’s body is upright with the top half hanging over to the ground. Probably how a lot of people will feel after the holidays…
So, the first section of our street has inflated Nativity scenes, inflated Frosty’s, golden reindeer, and Santa sleighs, along with luminarias bordering the driveways. Quite a pretty spectacle.
From my home a few houses up, it’s dark--no Grinches here, just people who realize ya gotta unstaple, un-tangle, deflate, climb around like a roof rat, and eventually figure out how everything goes back in the boxes the stuff was originally in. Ha!It's a feat that makes the sane go nuts. Good luck all, and to all a good night!
Y-a-w-n…Tom’s snoring kept me awake from 2-4:30 this morning. Nothing I did remedied the snap crackle-- from bed wiggling and gentle nudging, to “Tom, knock of the snoring!”
On the master bathroom window, illuminated by the moon, was a huge tree frog. I was tempted to grab my sticky friend and seal him over Tom’s semi-open mouth.
While Jen was sleeping one night, she awoke screaming. When I rushed into her room, flipping on the light, a frog as big as my fist had plopped onto her face-- nesting right over her nose and mouth. We figure the frog had been stranded on the overhead circulating fan, and decided to hop off.
I finally succumbed to sleep, only to be awakened by Jen and Paul’s 5:00 rustling in the kitchen. My two fly fishermen were getting up to make first light on the Tamiami Trail canals for tarpon.
When I finally got up this morning to make my coffee in a hazy stupor, I had left some of the previous day’s coffee in my thermal drink cup.
I poured the first hot ounces which then spilled over and onto the counter top, the floor and me, soaking my clothing.
The thought of a couple more hours of sleep sounded good about then, but wait-- I have today’s blog already brewing in my froggy head--er, foggy head…