The Old Outhouse by Diane Ogden

OK so this little outhouse has been there for fifty years plus...  I used it!!  In fact when I was in high school this is all we had besides a five gallon bucket for mid night emergencies.  It was truly awful.  We had no running water for baths either.
Over the years, that is after we got normal bathrooms with bathtubs and flushing toilets! Can you imagine ??  Me either anymore, yet the memories remember!
Everyone who ever used the outdoor privy signed in by writing on the inner walls of that outhouse of which I was afraid to open the door to take a pic of in case.......  the darn thing might have taken a dive on  me literally. 
I don't like shit pits as you all know from previous blogs.  And holding any of them up with poles is funny to me.  But what would I do if I really needed to use that privy outhouse?  Would I chance the poles giving way? What if no one was home? Oh shit!
I love puns or whatever you call that one. 

Santa "Pause"

Christmas in May 2011 by Diane Ogden

That would be a resting Clause pausing in my back seat!  I found him today while searching garage sales for a baby swing.  I took one look at that old fellow and said, "He's MINE!"  As I cheerfully gleeed, sounds from a garage sale crowd within the garage walls and driveway all shouted with hurrahs!  They were just waiting for that one Santa "sucker" to arrive.  Whalla, that would be me.  Like I have any place to store a life size Santa.  Maybe in the spare bathroom, or under my bed, or  maybe in my bed.  I haven't had a jolly nice fellow there.....let me think.....EVER! (Well maybe that's stretching it for effect) This here fellow thinks I am wonderful no matter what because he smiles 24/7. I love the way he dresses all fancy.  He never leaves the lid up nor makes a mess he doesn't take care of be that physically or mentally.  And he rides in the back seat.  Would be fun to put him in the front seat and take him everywhere I go.  I am into that sort of non humorous activity rather known as Humorous Shock therapy 101.  I wanted my kids to put a huge ceramic dog on top of their car when they moved across country.  I don't know why I am the only one that thought that would be hilarious!  Sort of like the movie "VACATION" when they put dead auntie up top the car.  I wouldn't put Santa on top of the car, that would be going to far.  I do have my limits even though the above photo does not prove so.
I will find an appropriate spot for Mr. Santa Pause until the season offers him proper timing.  Where he will fit in with the rest of the world making all who view him happy.  That is the Happy News for today.  Out of the dingy basement, onto cheering up the world. Santa Baby, come on down my chimney tonight! Bring checks with the duplex please!

The Happy News for Today....by Diane Ogden

The world did not end
The cat that ate my roses today did not die
or......throw up
My car is running like a good time piece
I am upright and speaking clearly
I did not get to watch a shooting from road rage today out on Hiway M, just almost
I have food
I do not live in Joplin, Missouri where the horrible tornado killed many
I am not related to Bin Ladin
My Father is alive at 85
I am on no medications at my glorious age
I am not fat (well, a little)
I have a bed to sleep in tonight
I just filled my tank with gas and had some cash left for a coffee
My novel is being edited (next published!)
Oprah would be proud of my little gratitude list....  screw O...., no I mean phooeey Oprah....(she could kill the deficit so of course she is grateful. )I didn't mean it when I said the screw thingy!  That is 60's talk still in my head from the 60's of course.  I bet Oprah says screw her cook every day!  I heard a comedian say Oprah has enough $ to have someone standing there slapping food out of her hand daily. True.  I don't have enough money to have bad fattening sick food slapped outta my hand daily so that be the reason for the 7 lb gain blogpost a few days  back. Where or where can I find a slapper?? duh.  I rather ride my exercise bike thank you...been there done that slapped thing. No thank you......and thank GOD I learned that one early in the scheme of life.  See, that is good news.  Bye Oprah.

I have lived through Johnny Carson, Oprah and God all in one lifetime. Oh shitski I forgot Elvis. What more could I ask for?  Nothing because there "ain't" time for no more unless I live to be 100 (0) and can still understand TV or whatever they will call it next. Not so sure I wanna live that long just to have the above little list.  But then when my novel sells I will lengthen my list and desire to live longer.  Now that is good news Charlie.  Who's Charlie?  Could be Charlie Brown, could be my first X Charlie the slapper...we call him Chuck the F__!  The good news is he's dead so it's OK.
More good news.....this blog is over.

Babies First Printed Material! by Diane Ogden

Today was my second babysitting lovey session with the newest Grand.  What a great time we had except for a few little fussy times mostly because Nana didn't know all the baby signal signs.  At one point we were trying to get her to sleep when in reality all her signals meant, "I am hungry!"  I am patting and rubbing and holding the pacifier in and then I asked if anyone had any flash cards.  No one in the room had any.  So I grabbed the paper jacket of my latest book purchase and held it up for her to view.  I thought the pretty colors would distract her from fussing. It did. Then I realized the first piece of printed material my sweet little Grand baby saw in life was "Does the Noise in My Head Bother You? by Steven Tyler (My twin from a previous life as if I haven't said that before!)  It was then I broke out laughing as did the other two people in the room.  OMG.....one said, "She may have nightmares, or maybe she will be rock star!"  Oh dear, what have I done? I have introduced her to Steven Tyler right out of the shoot almost!  On the positive side she will be her true self and never hide from life and I will pray the negatives away. I did get her classical music, does that make a difference?

Is That a Burka in Your Pocket? by Diane Ogden

"Is that a Burka in your pocket or are you just trying to control me?"
I am a woman who "used" to be more respectful of men then I am today.  But then the world is supposed to end today so I do not have to work on this later in life cynical brain thought I have gotten from "God" knows where. (really, ya think from God NOT!)  Probably from the culprits themselves. Men that is. Just like anything, some good, some bad, some just there.

There would be one in particular I am discussing and not from any cynical part of my beautiful brain.  This  would be, George. We will call him to protect the innocent, that being the wife relaying what I am using in this little bitty not so newsworthy blog post information site.

George!  George! George!  Who taught you?  Where are you from?  And its not even close to Mars.... You George are a grump.  You George are a passive aggressive hunka hunka burning un-love.  You George drive a brand new SUV and your wife drives a 13 year old Buick and you bitch if she wants new carpet in it.  George!  And George, you never say nice things to her, in fact you say ugly things to your wife George.  You yell at her George if she withdraws $50 from the bank once a month.  You hide whiskey under your under ware in your closet in your den George!  I saw it George!  Then you fall down and break your crown George!  You don't like the birds because the bird food costs money.  I'm surprised you purchase food for your wife George.  No wonder she loves the dog more!  There are two of you and she picked the best one. Dog that is. You tell her every day how the money is going to run out.  Really George, really, come on...the money is not going to run out unless the world ends today or next week.  You have money George...you are merely a miser, a grump, and could stand to go to Miss Manners school for crotch-ity old men! You almost died a couple times George, obviously you didn't get to see the big white light that held instructions for some.  Nope. Cause there's still a Burka next to the bottle in your bedroom buddy!

What can I say good about you George?  You walk the dog.  You do give wife a credit card. And you do help the offspring. That's not bad if you could just keep that nasty tongue under control. Guess that could go for everyone who uses the tongue incorrectly huh? (Not me of course)  Well maybe your not so bad after all George.  You worked hard all your life, you have retired with much cash flow, you have health insurance, you are alive, at least for six more hours, and you do walk the dog and maybe even take out the garbage. But just in case you are mean to your wife again I have advised your wife to inform you this:

 IF I cared, I'd draw you a map of your a** with an X marking the spot where your head is buried...I never underestimate the predictability of your stupidity & immaturity at best...I'm starting to think it can't be the Head-Up-A** Syndrome, because there's got to be more oxygen & more light up even the oldest fattest a** than could account for such rampant & long-lasting abnegation of me!  So honey, stop it! Love Esther

The Birds are Back 2011 by Diane Ogden

It was one year ago this week that I posted on this blog, all about the birds on my porch.  Well they are back and its not the sweet little finches, or the stately Robins.  It's the nasty mean swallows.  I even put this huge ugly owl out there to deter any bird activity.
The cats cannot go out (the porch has a baby net all around it so they can enjoy the outdoors)because the birds are going crazy and scaring them as well as the noise is unreal. I considered digging the ear plugs out of the jewelry box where they are stored for whatever reason.  Last year I called the office and the maintenance man came and "murdered" the Mother in her nest ON MOTHER'S DAY no less, not to mention left the corpse there to this day.  I certainly didn't ask for that.  I also entered the porch decorating contest of which I cannot do now.  I am being attacked. I shall paint a sign that reads, "Shit Island!" Because they are doing just that all over my outdoor porch carpet. Cant   go sit in the sunshine and read my new book by my twin from another life, Steven Tyler!  What would he do? He would sing and scream at them and they would leave.  Me, I am hiding and not wanting to murder another Mother in case the babies have been born.  This morning I could not sleep due to all the racket directly outside my bedroom window.  I have to close my windows now too???    Murder might be in order.  I must be getting used to murder, because after writing all the reasons why a couple small nasty mean birds shouldn't be allowed to take over this large section of my life, I think I am getting it.It always took me too long to "get it."  I was willing to share, just not this                       much.  And they aren't even thankful. They are mean.  I do not care what the animal totem is trying to tell me.  For once I am not going to analyze.  Because I already did it right here.  Nothing funny about this today.  Except that one Happy News Lady has allowed The Birds to get the best of her.  Consider that over.  

"Isn't That the Pits!" by Diane Ogden

Life can sock it to us sometimes placing us in what I call "shit pits!"  My mentor always says she'd rather be in the clouds and stay up there where its fresh and pure than ever be in the shit pits.  Have you ever been inside a REAL outhouse?  It reeks of the above (shit) only its below.  Below where life puts us sometimes.
This would have nothing to do with cherry pits, or prune pits, or olive or avocado etc....pits.,  I am referring to real life shit pits. Cancer shit pits, other sickness pits, sadness pits, hunger pits, war pits, politics pits, Schwarzenegger pits, Jesse James type created pits. The pit I am experiencing is a lack of sleep pit due to some sort of weird pain in my kidney area.  Don't think its a stone. Don't think its an intercession for my Father who is 85 and having a kidney removed if he survives the first heart surgery!  Wish it were.  Whatever it is I'd rather be higher up in the fresh air than what feels like the underseat of that outhouse.  It'll be ok.  We all have our "Ups and Downs."  Even The Happy News Lady.  
And the happy news for today is you have learned what it really means when someone says, "Isn't that the pits?"  They are referring to shit which is waste material and not much good for anything or anyone at least they haven't found a use for it yet. (that I am aware of) I have no use for it anyway....unless it would cure any of the above such as illness's or curing spermanators like Schwarzenegger men, but rather I tend to lean on the thought that it is the label placed on all of the above negatives of life.  I know all about outhouses....in reality from my Grandparents old farm, my parents old farm, as well as the trials of life I try to find humor in.

Elegance..... by Diane Ogden

I am going to buy this!  Why not?  Maybe because it has a train humm.  Cant you just picture it:  An 8 x 10 glossy of me walking around my living area with a train on my robe dragging behind me?
My cats would love it without a doubt, in fact they would destroy it within a week...  yes they have nails.  And there is no one to look at me in it except me and the animals.  I could go get the mail in it I suppose.  Or I could take the dog out and let it drag around on the cement and the grass.  Heck I could wear that to the store.  Dragging it through the isles cleaning the floors...little children would even stare.
Not to mention folks with any sense at all.  Some might think I had been to a wedding.  Some would think I was going out to a ball.  Others would just stare in disbelief and awe.  Maybe I would add a hat, nah.  What sort of shoes would I add to my robe ensemble? Can you picture me pushing a luggy stainless steel cart in this gorgeous thang. All I would need to finish it off would be what's his name??  That guy that does butter commercials now. The one with the long hair on the cover of Romance novels. No I don't read those, Yes maybe I should so I wouldn't have these outlandish purchasing ideas. What is his name?  F A B I O!  eeewww.  Maybe I wont buy it after all.  I cant see it happening.  Wont go with the car wash or the store or walking the dog or much of anything really.  I could hang it on the wall...  I really wanted this, it's so me without the Fabio butter guy.  Actually I am into the Ford Man now.  Not so sure he would go for this either.  Unless I took it off of course.  Guess I don't need it no matter how hard I try to have it.
And I really am not a person who requires so much attention.  Although some is nice.

We Rescued the Baby Robin from the Nasty Blackbird! by Diane Ogden

Jay taking baby birdie back to her nest!
While several LARGE Robins dove him!










Run Jay Run!!!

Cats in ready mode!I woke this morning expecting a wonderful restful day as I do each and every day. This was the day I accidentally ate a few drops of the awful blue laundry detergent left on my counter where I make my toast. Nuff said!  But I continued on with my day eating extra food to pass the detergent without issue.  I belched a lot today!   Just as I was about to sit in my nice happy chair and read some of Steven Tyler's latest and only book I heard a terrible ruckace outside, went to the window to see a horrible site.  A huge blackbird killing either a Mother Robin or one of the babies.  I said, "Oh you bad bird!" (duh) Then the lady upstairs started stomping on her deck to try to scare bad black bird away along with I would say twelve other Robins who came to rescue their bird in distress.  I have noticed after living here for many years how the birds have a special language and ways of helping their own.  The Robins are a very kind bird as are the Finches in our area...the swallows not so much! Back to my story.  The pack of "Robin Hood Robins" did chase the nasty huge blackbird away but there was a repercussion.  That would be one child Robin on my deck flopping about. She was not harmed but was unable to fly enough to get over the railing. I suspect pure adrenalin and instinct to live got her from the dangerous tree out front to my deck whereas her sibling ended up blackbird dinner.  Ordinarily I would call 911. Just kidding sort of.  You see I cannot touch bird or mice for whatever reason. Just cant!  So I begin the search for humane humans to help the baby Robin.   I called the emergency animal number, no go! I called Doug, my friend's tough retired colonel who isn't a baby bird man!  I tried two others who cant touch mice or birds either.  And then, whalla!  Patty and Jay upstairs in #207!  They came down ready with gloves.  Patty , being an animal whisperer lady talked gently to birdie, picked her up as she squawked like she was dying vs being saved, which got the Robin Hood Robins blood pressures up out by the tree of which we didn't notice until birdie was transferred to Jay by Patty outside the deck and over to the tree and into the nest!  Suddenly there were many large Robins who didn't know Jay was the savior rather he must have looked like a large blackbird because they starting making a ruckace and diving on him ....Run Jay Run!!!   And so it goes... ALSWELL as my license plate says. Sometimes its a lie, but this time its truth.  ALSWELL as this ended well.   

High Efficiency Gain Original Scent for Breakfast by Diane Ogden

I threw a piece of all natural Brick Ovens Honey Oat Bran bread into the toaster oven, then ran back to the computer to finish my picture order of the new Grand baby to be sent to the photo store.  DING....
oh crud I bet I left it in too long and its over toasted...and sure enough, but I decided to eat hard toast vs starting over.  Ordinarily I use a plate but the photo order was waiting so I put the toast on the bare counter and quickly buttered, peanut buttered, and jellied it, grabbed a paper towel, scooted back to the online photo order. I took a bite and thought I smelled perfume but ignored the "still quiet voice" of some blessed Angel trying to warn me. Lord I wish they could thump harder from beyond.  I took two more bites and that is when my brain took a reverse to the previous evening when I poured some High Efficiency Gain into a paper cup on my counter while dripping several ghastly blue green drops onto the exact spot I buttered that toast.  Of course I should have cleaned it up immediately but I had worked ten hours and wasn't finished yet!  I mean come on who could miss those Chinese colors laying on the toasting area.  Me!  I missed them.  And when I realized I had eaten a couple or so drops I spit almighty! Even though I had already swallowed all. Worse then when you think you ate a bug and start spitting even though he be long gone down eaten.  I thought should I gag myself and attempt to throw up three drops of the High Efficiency Blue Green Gain Original Scent Laundry Detergent or should I call 911 or should I drink milk, you know how a lot of packages say drink milk if you eat poison. I am allergic to milk.  I decided to try to relax and drink some water, take the dog out, but my tongue felt funny like it had a blue chemical on it.  Nah, my imagination surely.  I then put a pizza in the oven because I need to go grocery shopping and it was between a pizza or a Dr. Prague's all natural broccoli pancake. eeww. There was no way I could do toast again. I think I am fine except I feel diarrhea coming on.  Surely that is from the anxiety levels occurring in my brain that have nothing to do with High Efficiency Blue Green Gain Original Scent Laundry Detergent going through my digestive tract.  Good God I need to eat out more often when I am that tired.
Actually I did, I bought Chinese last night, ate too late, woke up with bad taste in mouth so I made the toast that got buttered on the counter with the Chinese blue green detergent.  See, my mentor is right. The Chinese I ate that made me sick called in the other Chinese poison. Chinese attracks Chinese!  I tell you people, read those labels.....and do not ever pour laundry detergent around your food preparation areas.  I think I'm fine.  I hope that pizza wasn't made in China!!!

Redneck Baseball Cap Willed to Grand-son by Diane Ogden

OK, so this is one of the X-husbands, don't ask, just using the pic to depict what a Grandpa redneck hat looks like.  By the way he is now with a red head. Humm, maybe he was back then too.  Who cares...
So now that is shown, here is the story morning glory!  My Father is 86 years young in July...that would be two months from now.  He has developed cancer of the kidney of which needs to be removed.  He also has a heart valve that is in severe stenosis meaning the blessed thing is shutting down/closing up shop.  We had/have an appt. at MAO clinic of which his doctors have also shut down.  I suspect they are BID BIDNESS! You know the corporation's type.  Won't go into it except to say the man has been a bull all his life and now they are scrolling the numbers on him...

Hell, he could outwork me up until recently.  Sooo...Upon learning about Papa's health issues,  my 4th son, and let me make that clear as in one blog I got him out of the birth order....he came home from his stint in Thailand where he was a martial arts instructor to help the family get thru some of this insurance health-corporate bid biziness.  And to help the family emotionally also....  In fact he jetted to the farm one fine day (that he had previously planned out with others) to take PaPa Joe to Token Creek, Wisconsin.  Token Creek is a place my Dad speaks of quite often. He lived there on a rental farm with his Mother, Matilda Hiney Jungbluth and father Emil Joseph Jungbluth.  He had a little black Shetland pony he rode to school on ...and on the property was a Spring fed waterway that healed his Mother of severe ulcers. He has always talked of going back there. So Chris drove him to Token Creek.  And Chris filled up three gallons of Token Creek Spring Water for Grandma and Grandpa Jungbluth.  So far they have healed up Grandma's bladder issues.  PaPa Joe was so quietly happy he gave Grandson Chris Ogden his favorite baseball cap from Branson Missouri.  I mean this is BIG.... men don't give their caps away.  Even I know that .  I am posting a pic of Papa wearing his cap even while at the emergency room hospital! He loved his Redneck Branson Missouri hat!  Papa never shared much by the way...he wouldn't even let the Grands use his mower to mow for him.  Not sure what that was about, but he kept his possessions close. I suspect because he never had much as a kid therefore protected what he had earned with vigor. Yet he handed over his special top hat to the Grand that came and drove him to his favorite memory in life.  AMEN.

OMG! or is it SAS? Which Toxic Phrase Would You Chose? by Diane Ogden

Everyone says Oh My God, or Dear Lord, or God dammit, or Jesus!! Whether they are happy or angry or sad.  Or they say, Holy God, or Lordie Lordie, or Good God! That scared the bejesus out of me," "Well for the God of heaven and earth,"  "Sweet Jesus!" "Oh my sweet Jesus/Lord," "Well for the love of Jesus," Oh my Lord, and on and on.

Why do people not take the name of Satan in vain instead of God.  I feel very bad if I slip in a moment, or maybe an entire day of anger which leads me to say God's name in any angry manner.  Would I feel bad if I said, "Satan Dammit?"   Or if I said, "Satan, Satan!"  How about "Sweet Satan!"  hummm, I dislike that one. "Oh you shitty Satan!" I personally like that one.  "Well for the hate of Satan."  Holy Satan, Dirty Satan, Damn Satan, Son of a Satan, Mother Satan, "That scared the Satan out of me!" Silly Satan, Savage Satan, Sorry Satan,  SAS= Sorry Ass Satan??  Well it just came to my mind is all.  Evil effing Satan!

I think I would need to choose one and stick with it or I wouldn't be able to train myself to switch this gear in life.  You know from saying OMG all the time to SAS. Possibly both and or all are basically toxic phrases.

I can remember a stitch in my life time where the fad was to say, "Fudge," when having a moment of anger or frustration. Now we hear "Shut the Front Door" even during Prime Time on TV.  I am not inclined to say that is progress, rather SAS has digressed us and we have allowed it.

The Button Extender.....by Diane E. Ogden

I do not know what happened, but I grew.  I grew 7 pounds of grow...  I must have eaten fertilizer.  No clue. What I do know is I had to hunt up my OLD button extender and,  my favorite Ralph's (Lauren) do not fit. I am back in the fat pants.  Well not that fat, but more than I usually have hanging around.
This means I will have to feel those nasty pangs of hunger during the day for at least 30 days.  That is what it takes for me to lose 8 lbs.  Protein for 30 days.  Cruds!  Or maybe I will just buy new clothes!!  Cut out one food I have been "fressing" on and forget it.  No....I will lose it like I always do all my life...10 up 10 down 10 up 10 down, swearing to never let it happen again but it does.  But it will never happen again this time.  Sure, that is why I keep three boxes of three different size underwear stashed in my closet, keeping one size out at a time.  6's, 7's, and 8's...  Not that anyone needs to know that.  Or which I am in at present! I hate fat.  It resembles lumpy sausage under the skin. I shall never forget the day Oprah pulled that little red wagon full of greasy yellow fat out on her stage depicting the amount of fat she had lost.  Knowing I have seven block pounds of that horrid yellow thick nasty stuff on me is too much to live with.  Therefore it will be gone!  And after it is gone I still have plenty to sustain me and my Ralph's. But not enough to push me over the top like that seven did! (I have handles and I never had those) see it has to go. I don't want to wear full body spankx thank you! My son is visiting from Thailand and put those nasty stars around my web cam dealie frame....  Just ignore it. Pretty hard to ignore 100 and some yellow stars.  Just like me trying to ignore that yellow gag-shis fat on my core body!