Fish Heads or Facelift?

Fish Heads or Face Lift
"Home Alone" on a Saturday night is the only reason any of this ever happened. I was told by several of my good intentionedfriends, to purchase many cans of sardines. That is after I was caught taping my face up and back in an attempt to give myselfa homemade mini face lift but the tape got all caught up in my hair anyway...I hate that. So I opted for the suggestion of Sardines. Instant face lift they said. Or close to instant. I purchased several cans of sardines, cheap, expensive, and in between. I had never in my life faced those little critters before now. I left them sitting on the cupboard for about two months, unopened of course, so as to avoid the "head to head" final contact. Already the instant face lift had lost its way. My sonfinally ate all but one can. People were still telling me the wonderful little creatures would stunt my aging process. I am usually rather gullable, but this time I highly doubted. We had gone from instant lift to merely stunting what I already had. Not long after at a party I dove in andlet my friends serve me the critters in the soybean oil atop whole wheat crackers. Might has well have been worms on crackers, but I did it.By the way these friends were "whose who" with more money than God and about the same amount of connections. So maybe it would connect me somehow, these little creatures and wealth, if not a face lift anyway. It was when I saw the little spine bone sticking out atme screaming, or was that me, along with the rest of the body parts, I quit! I politely washed them down with some fine Scotch and went home with my same face.I was sure the way I was feeling was because I just ate the stomach and head of something which made me mental for an hour until the Scotch took it away. By the way my son ate the last can.My next trip to the store I noticed some fish I remembered my Dad used to eat when I was a little girl. Chubs. I found them in the fish section and sure enough there they were, but at least bigger and de-gutted. How do you de-gutt Sardines the size of your little finger and get it all? The label on the Chubs was covering the heads so I put them in the cart and off I went.It was another Saturday night and I am home alone, no date, nothing on TV but QVC. So out come the Chubs. I opened the package which moved the label and exposed the heads. Memories....I pretended they weren't there so not to get mental again plus I didn't have any Scotch.I cut into the middle and began my face lift. BONES....suddenly I remembered at age nine my Dad choking and we all had to go to the emergency room. Yup, a bone stuck in his throat from fish. They took one of those big silver long prongs and put them into his mouth and way downhis throat and, and, out came the bone. Big Bone. Yes I remembered. So I had gotten past the heads and now was dealing with FEARBONES. Then cat suddenly appeared out of no where and joined the picnic on the counter at 10:30p.m. with me, and the heads, and QVC.The cat had no fear, He sniffed, took a few bites, and left. My son came up from his retreat stereo surround sound room as the smell had drifted thru the vents and once again he took over those nasty heads for me. Let his "face lift" because I decided I am into accepting myself for who I am without eating fish and their heads and innerds. Actually cosmetic surgery might be easier for me. I never was good at with this sort of thing since my Mother told me I made mud pies when I was three and she caught me eating the worms in said pies.....that is why I don't do spaghetti either. Good day.....
Posted by "The Happy News Lady" at 6:30 PM
Labels: Instant Face Lift from Sardines.....

Nanny 911 or Nana

(This article is four or so years ago.. The girls have since become much better. Only on occasion do I tell them, "You all need Nanny 911!" And then one of the twins tells me, "You mean Nanny McVay?" (They know!)

NANA 911....................and so the story goes...........
You haven't lived until you are bordering 56 difficult years of life, along with at least that many serious regrets you are trying to outlive, and your children ask you to "sit" with their one year old twins and their ADHD 21/2 year old. All beautiful little blonde girls of scary genetic descent. Which connects us directly back to one of the at least 56 serious regrets that have hovered very closely in my mind for a lifetime. We just don't discuss them.
Keep in mind that these children have never sat at the table for meals because my son is one that takes a long time to make decisions, even regarding the purchase of a set of table and chairs. Again due to what he has observed thru my many regrets. Heck he had all three of those children before he finally married the poor woman. She figured he was trying to make sure he found the best one (deal) like he picks cars and houses, and tables and chairs. Actually, it was again, the old generational curses holding his brain hostage. (They are all married, happy, and doing very well these several years later)
Now, back to "sitting" with the children. These are not children, they surely came from I don't know where because the word "sitting" has not happened to me since the day I walked into that house to "sit" with them. In fact they never sit. Nor do they sleep much. They scream, fight, throw their food, their plates, and rock their beds across their room in the middle of the night. Scared me so bad one night that I called 911. When the police arrived, I was under the bed. They inquired as to who was "sitting" with the children. I told them I thought the babies where sleeping. The officer said, "Yea Right, lady, that’s why they are laughing and have moved their beds at least ten feet a minute since we arrived." At that point I told him the whole story of my life. He quietly left when I turned my back to him to finish one of my many nervous paces during the story. I thought it was a bit more interesting than that, NOT! It took me some time to get back to sleep, and then, out of nowhere I heard, "DAD!" "Dad, where's my food?" I said, Nana's here, remember?." I said I put your snack out on the floor in front of the TV with the controller and a your juice box." Can you believe this kid? She gets up by herself, used to be at 4:30a.m., then 5:30a.m., now she is at least at 6:30a.m. So her parents set up her little "do da daily" snack in front of the TV so they can sleep until a normal 7:00 a.m. Do notice she is only 2 1/2 years old!!! (Again as years pass she is sleeping well and is a sweet young girl in 2nd grade now)
Trying to "sit" yet never "sit" at someone else's house is really trying when you have several lists posted in every room on walls, refrigerators, toilets, and cupboards. Schedules (my son is a perfectionist) so schedules are very important. Bottles at 6:30 p.m. sharp. Bed at 7:00 p.m. sharp. Bless Nana, Meme, Papa Joe, and thirty more, then recite the prayer, then turn on the CD player and push play. Turn on the little star light, close the door and do not open it until morning. MORNING: change three soggy diapers, feed corn flakes, watch babies throw corn flakes all over the floor and walls. Don't use bowls, just put the flakes on high chair tray and let 'em roll, then after cereal give them juice in juice boxes in refrigerator. So I poked the straw that came with the box thru the hole and the darn thing squirted all over me and the floor. Gave the girls their juice boxes and they did the same thing. They squirted them everywhere. I said to myself, "These are not my G-babies!" I taught MY children better manners!. I searched the house for a mop. Don't these people ever mop! Then I realized they just got all hardwood floors and before that they had all carpet. They hadn't had time to buy a mop. They did have a Swiffer though...Soooo I took baby wipes and stuck them into the pinchers and mopped away. Due to the sticky everywhere I used nearly an entire box of wipes. I am sure my frugal son will notice that one. He may also notice the hard kernels of old dried up macaroni and cheese stuck in the cracks of his nice new deck. They don't match the color he chose to stain it by the way. I tried sweeping it with the broom I found in the closet. I have never in my life seen a broom like his. It is so old it is worn down to a 1/4 of a broom. For real...it is so stiff because the give is gone...I might as well just use the dust pan alone.
I took them, the three KiKi's, or children, (KiKi's came from the oldest not being able to say the twins names) to my house which I thought would give me a break, anyway I have animals I needed to tend to. Forget that! The oldest girl opened the door and let the dog get out the door and run away. The little girls had previously surrounded the poor dog. They get so excited they hit her and jump on her and chase her. So when the door came open she took her opportunity. Smart Dog! No regrets on that one. So far the twins have dumped the entire box of hair bands, barrettes, rubber bands all over the bathroom floor. Took me a half hour or more to separate all those into the appropriate compartments. They push the carbon monoxide button until the squeal makes you crazy and you unplug it because monoxide is easier than this!!! They pushed the screen out of the front door pulled all the toilet paper off the roll and down the hall, take their shoes and socks off
directly after I put them on. Take their pig tails out after great duress in getting them in! Pull all the cushions off the sofa, and don't tell this one, but the oldest pee-ed on the new sofa so I blotted it and put it out on the deck to sun dry. "They" say the sun kills the germs. Whoever "they" is better be right. I mean this is a favor not a job, because there AINT enough money for this one honey.
This morning I had to drive to another city to go to my old bank and sign some loan papers for another son to have a vehicle. You try getting ready with three under three. They wanted to help. I wore black. NOT a good idea. When I finally got to the bank, I have boogers on my pants, Vaseline on my shirt, milk, powder, juice, peanut butter and poop on various parts of my attire. It was rather warm out but I didn't care, I donned a jacket anyway. In the truck on the way to the bank, the one KiKi hit the other in the face. Crying became song to me. I had to find something positive somehow. I only had to pull over once when suddenly one KiKi is crying and rather than use my rear view mirror for traffic safety purposes, I AIM the mirror directly on the KiKi's in the back seat. Well this time I saw one of them falling over in their car seat. I am like Oh My God! I pull over where there isn't really a place to pull over...Who cares, the kid is sinking fast. I reach back even though I have a bad shoulder and neck issue and with one strong thrust I push that kid back into position. Fully knowing that every turn may bring about this issue. Not to mention the danger of it. At this point I already have the oldest, but not legally old enough, in the front seat in a car seat, because I couldn’t get it hooked into the back seat. These people have three different car seats. All of which one would need a coarse in car seats to be able to handle all the straps adn hooks etc.. Well I have had no coarse in car seats since my children where small which seems like a century ago!! We ate at the table...we said no and flicked fingers at 10 months offering them limits and the beginning of some sort of discipline. Not at my sons house...the TV controls are covered with black tape. There is no furniture to speak of...A sofa, a loveseat and a TV. No table and chairs, no end tables, nothing to say no to. The cupboards are all locked, which by the way is a real trip when the Nana has arthritis and can’t get them open, HELLO!! Therefore, the cupboards are not only childproof, but Nana Proof...
They make rubber things for us old folks to open lids, and gutter cleaners with long handles, and hooks that put our socks on, and pills to help us have sex, but NO EASY CUPBOARD OPENERS. Don't they know we aren't that old? It’s just our joints, not our brains. Now to finish this part, the bedroom doors are also closed, the bathroom is off limits, even their own rooms are closed unless sleep is happening. They have no fence.......soooo.... weren't we all a mess?....a Nana, a set of twins, and a 2 1/'2 year old pissed off Kid because not only did she get one to have to share Mom and Dad with, but TWO.... She punches them whenever she gets the chance. She pulls their hair, lays on them, pushes them down, and anything else she can think of. Yet she also Mother's them. An interesting week I have had watching the Love Hate of siblings. And watching these children be away from their parents for the first time ever.
By the way, the will is in the closet in an open safe. I always hoped they would leave the children in my care...but after these past few days, I decided I didn't have the courage to look in the safe to see if I was the chosen one. Jesus was the chosen one and he suffered....that's another reason I didn't check. Surprise me!!! After all they have medicine for everything now. Even Nana's that can’t get childproof cupboards open. Why the 2 1/2 year old can get ALL childproof caps off all things. We know this because she has visited ER for overdose of meds she can open. She showed me how...So surely she could open those cupboards if I needed her to.
And good news, the great g-parents are with them tonight! And tomorrow! Then it is my turn again until
Tuesday when we take a trip to the airport to pick up the Mama and DaDa. Thank God for a healthy flight please.
...I bet they are missing those children a bunch. Good for them. I have been there, done that, thank you. Next time they can hire a nanny! I would rather be just a plain "old" Nana. Wish you could see me, because I don't look like anyone’s Nana, after these few days the only thing missing is the flour in my face and hair. Wonder if I will think the same things at age 70? Maybe!

I am a baby boomer after all.

Psikiatrist 5 cents

Psychiatrists Corner today:

Remember, the fish never catches the Eagle. They never drag him under. Don't allow the River Fish of the World and life to pull you under....Drag you down.
From now on, you soar high as the Eagle, with wisdom and perfect timing in any and ever situation.
Then you only dive to help those lessor souls find their way out of the mirky waters. Or when you have the overwhelming desire to , maybe for fun.

I met a guy in '59,
He never handed me a line.
We've been friends for some 30 years,
Through thick and thin and many tears.
He had a marriage and several affairs,
And now is left with not many cares.
I went off and married twice,
Had five children who are very nice.
I had one child out of wedlock,
My life regressed to something like bedrock.
I didn't call him so he wouldn't know,
Or think of me for the seeds I did sow.
But I should have known better of my friend,
That his heart would be open and free to lend,
A shoulder, a word, a Moon to share.
But after it all, I wonder if I dare.
The wall I've built is thick and strong,
Even though I realize that's very wrong.
I'll open my heart to my dear dear friend,
But...give me more time for the wall to bend.
For my friend you are the best I've seen,
I wish I could have you and share a dream.
But I think I'll just sit and take some time,
To share with you some of my rhyme.
You've shared with me your deepest thoughts,
Something so special can never be bought.
So whether a friend, a love, or a heart to share,
Until and from, this day forth I will always care.
I wish I could remember your name.

August 8,2007 Kris Kristoferson

Today was hot and humid in Wisconsin, but I hear not at bad as the East Coast is having it. I delivered The Onion Newspaper most of the day which I do every Wednesday. I get paid for exercising but today I didn't get paid enough to match the discomfort of the thick air. When I walked into my apartment the TV was on which I do so my two cats, 18 year old "Christmas Buddy," and I saved your sorry ars, Ferrel "Lucy Skids." Lucy is only a little over a year old so it was like putting a two year old with a 92 year old! Didn't work so well, I'll leave it at that. Well no I wont...it is working out, the 92 year old just ignores Lucy. Back to the TV......I saw the CMA Awards were on mid afternoon. Must have been the re-run. There was Kris Kristoferson on my 32" big black honker color screen. Suddenly floods of memories came rushing at and all around me. God I even had a couple tears. But he looked so much older than me....well maybe not. Only in my memory of what he and me used to look like and they definitely showed the old/young, him (me) while doing a rendition of his life. Then I really had tears because my life was lived right along side his in the same years. Go figure... doi S-h-u-t-u-p, we all age live with it and laugh. I even remembered the furniture I had in those 1970's. I didnt know he was a military man who was going to teach at West Point and a golden gloves boxer and on and on.. He gave it all up for his passion, writing songs. Then he met Johnny Cash and up up and away with a great career. God do you remember Kris K and Barbra Streisand in that famous love movie...what was the name of that? Something about a Rose....Be back to finish this later....

The Key People in My Life: Part Three

If I were a person with any sort of personality disorder which of course I am not....I might think the"Key People" were sent to possibly, maybe, kill me! Why? Because they are getting too close to my space and vehicle. They are getting out of control. Or am I? Or rather they have a personality affliction like OCD where they cant stand anything out of place. Maybe they wash their hands twenty five times a day and the misplaced key in my trunk may push them to wash their hands fifty times a day now.
I was on campus yesterday delivering books in the middle of allot of traffic when a honking begins. Loud honking, not little tweeps that would gently gain my attention, no, loud honking in repititious reverberation which heightened my anxiety to the maximum levels. That doesn't usually happen until mid afternoon. I scanned my mirrors to find a man in a station wagon which I didn't think the automobile industry manufactured anymore. He pulls his stationwagon into a cove driveway and continues honking. This man is on a mission to kill me from fright or shear determination of key plight. The later is true as he rolls down his window, still honking and waiting for my slow response which only made it worse. I was so nervous I couldn't find the window I wanted to open. There are only four window opening levers but anxiety and confrontation allowed confusion to roll on in. I got the opposite drivers side window down and peired at this man across one more lane of traffic only to then see him start to get out of his now illegally parked station wagon and give me the "Infamous News!" "Do you know you left your key back there? Do you want me to get it for you?" Can you imagine putting your life in danger to help some stranger save their key? Me either. Although I always show appreciation to these "key people" in my life with personality disorders. They say you surround yourself with what you are. Oh please. Sometimes I think I am not appreciative enough of the help offered me. I usually say, "Oh thank you, I can get it." Come on! These people have gone to great lengths to nearly kill me from fright, driving too close, honking, waving, jumping out at stoplights in traffic, following me into business's after they find a place to park, leaving their children alone to catch me, telling me they cant live with themselves if they don't come back and let me know. Know what? That I am driving a normal car with a key in the trunk. What can happen? My point is, maybe I should be more dramatic so they feel better. Like hit myself in the forehead like I am a dummie and forgot the key, and or say, " Oh My God thank you, you saved my life." And so on. Maybe I am not the dummie here or the person with the disorder for sure. Then again I think leaving the "key" in the trunk latch (for my job because it is broken and I need to open it one hundred times a day) is a way of getting back at my Mother for always having to have everything in order and in its perfect place. The "key" to the "key people in my life" could be ..........REBELLION. Whose? Mine or their's? Now isnt that taking "the Key" to the ninth degree? .

The Key is The Answer: Part Two

3/14/07
Last week it was seven degree’s here in Wisconsin and yesterday it was seventy degree’s. Maybe Spring Fever is why people are acting more helpful and happy today. As you recall I have a key on a ring hanging out of my trunk latch. This is because the trunk latch and automatic opener are both broken and the three hundred dollars to repair it is not the problem, I am the problem although I didn’t realize this until 10:52 this morning when nine people had gone to extreme lengths to inform me I had a key in my trunk latch. Why. Would that key break the car or cause an accident or could someone steal my car while I am driving it? Or maybe these people think it will fall out and I will lose it. What is the big deal about the key in the trunk?
I say I am the problem because I have not repaired the latch and instead have had fun with this situation for a long time although today was a bit over the edge. I wanted to see how far and how many people would let me know it was there, for whatever reason they are doing it, and they are doing it in droves. As I said it must be Spring Fever!
I was listening to my radio when I heard this noise which got louder and louder. I looked around and low and behold on the passenger side of my vehicle is an African American man driving in the “bus lane” hollering at me and waving his arm toward the trunk. I could hear that man over the top of my radio and with all the windows closed. He startled me, but I opened the window and graciously thanked him. Off he sped and back into normal traffic lanes.
I was sitting in my car writing down some information pertaining to my job when a woman knocked on my driver’s side window. She scared me nearly flat as my mind was way far away from anyone doing that. I rolled down the window and she proceeded to tell me she couldn’t live with herself one more minute if she didn’t come back and tell me I had a Key in my trunk. I thanked her profusely so she could go on living longer.
But I do want to know why she couldn’t go on one more minute if she didn’t tell me about that key. Maybe it is I, maybe there is something phenomenal about leaving a key in one’s trunk that I need to know. If so would someone enlighten me please?
The most dramatic “key helper” came to me at a red light. I was into my oldie’s radio station when suddenly a 6’5” giant man is banging on my drivers window! I have just taken a bite of cheese with a pretzel. A whole pretzel with cheese makes my mouth full. I can do that when I am alone and I did. But I wasn’t alone wa s I? He scared me so bad I jumped like a jackrabbit. He hollered, “Sorry I scared you but you have a key in your trunk.’ I said, with a mouthful, “thank you!” He asked, “Could I get the key for you?” I said, with a mouthful, “NO!” He ran back to his car and I know he thought that I thought he was a predator. Of course I didn’t, so I gave him a high thank you wave, which in wave talk on the road means an extra thank you. He was resituating himself in his car when he “read” my thank you wave and instantly felt better and raised his 6’5” hand that said “Your welcome.” The light turned green. This time I am doing 55 M.P.H. on the beltline, which is our major highway through and around our city. Suddenly there is a car parallel to my driver’s side and very close. The man is waving and yelling so I roll down my window to relieve his stress. It wasn’t like I didn’t know what he was going to say. He hollers, ’The key is in yo trunk!” I smiled and said, “Oh, Thank you so much!” He felt like he had helped an old lady across the street. I made his day.
Next time I am at a convenience store dropping off some books when the most gorgeous specimen of testosterone (a man) smiles at me and calmly says, “You have a key in your trunk!” This time I told him I was aware of that and it was amazing how many people tell me. I wont do that again because people/he was/ are offended that I know there is a key in my trunk. Or maybe he felt dis-regarded or embarrassed. Either way I will only be thankful to people who see the key from now on.
Over the past couple months of winter while the key rode trunk side I have been shown how much people care and how polite they can be. But since Spring weather came yesterday and today people are overdoing nice regarding this displaced key.
I am back to work and daydreaming at a stoplight when this man starts honking and honking which scared the bejeebees out of me and made me mad. I thought he was honking so I would turn on the red light so I honked back. He then honks again and again and as I looked in my mirror he is waving his arms frantically. So I wave my arms back. Then I realize he is talking to me in wave talk. He didn’t want me turn anywhere, his wave said, “KEY IN TRUNK!” So I respond with wave talk, “I KNOW!” But I knew he couldn’t read wave and would think I understood. Nope, he jumps out of his car and I think, Oh My God, here we go……he gets the key and hands it to me and I am very gracious to him. Really!! This man was Oriental. I tell you all this because I am amazed at all the different nationalities that have tried to save me from whatever that key could do to hurt me. Quite the opposite, it has blessed me.
Now it is 10:52 a.m. and I am on the Southside of the city at a stop, ready to get out of my car and deliver my goods to the library when I hear a deafening BOOM BOOM BOOM from someone’s stereo. I plugged my ears with my fingers, which I do not usually do and I didn’t mean for him to see me but he saw me and he stopped his car directly next to me, turned down his stereo, and with a very sober face and monotone voice he said, “Do you know you have a key in your trunk?” I smiled and thanked him. I was thinking, don’t kill me please. He turned his stereo to the place it was before the Key and drove away, BOOM< BOOM< BOOM.
Many hours have passed and I am at my last stop of the day putting my seat belt on to go home. It is rush hour traffic but our city’s rush hour isn’t so bad and tonight it was fairly mild. Calmly and quietly a young man around my son’s age walked over to my window and did not holler, honk, or use wave language, nor did he remove the key from its place. He had impeccable manners and said, Maam, did you know you have a key in your trunk? I said, Thank you very much. (You gracious and sweet person.)
What a lovely way to end the workday.