Creamy Alfredo Accident...............by Diane Ogden

 

Creamy Alfredo Accident reenactment below:  I dug in the garbage and got the jar of Alfredo out and poured the old leftover dry coleslaw in the colander to retake the blurry boo boo photo I took last night. See below: (duh)

 

So why am I posting a photo of shredded cabbage and carrots with a bottle of Classico Alfredo and Lighthouse Cole Slaw Dressing sitting on the back of my sink?  Because I had the dry coleslaw in that white bowl ready to mix it all up with the dressing, which I did.  I was stirring it up when the aroma of creme drifted up into and or past my nasal passages which said to my brain, "Humm that smells like a dairy product and I am dairy intolerant so my brain and my nose knows.  I ceased all stirring and slowly turned my head back and forth viewing the air and counter in hopes of seeing something that might have caused this smell in my coleslaw I was readying to take with me to work tomorrow.  And there is was.  Yup.  There it stood all mighty and proud of itself for ruining my coleslaw and carrots.  I quickly grabbed the colander, shit I cant spell that....and dumped the Alfredo raw cabbage and carrots into it and started running cold water over it in great hopes of getting all the Alfredo off every piece.  Funny me huh?
That is when my daughter text me and said, "Mom go to your room and hide while I bring Karli (Granddaughter) in and put her to bed"  If she sees me she wont go to bed!  That is when I fell asleep and had no thoughts or dreams about Alfredo or Cole Slaw, (I did see my dead x husband in a dream,)  until morning when I saw them still sitting in the same place I left them the night before.  I had a momentary thought of continuing the rinsing process and then another momentary thought of laying in a hospital with E-coli or Salmonila and then death by stupidity.  That said, I dumped it all out. Stopped by the store today and purchased new bags of carrots and slaw.  We're good now.

So 'til next time I mix up something incorrectly or find something funny, be safe, be happy, be well, and get rich so you can have a cook, or order out every day, or pay for your daughter an apartment of her own so there wont be any unexpected jars of things you are allergic to in the refrigerator.  Amen  

Spring Cottage Magazine.........by Diane Ogden

I bought this today!  What was I thinking?  I must not have been thinking.  This magazine costs my budget $10.99. I have never paid that much for a small magazine.  A book yes.  A book stays on the shelf for many years to be handed down to the next pack of people.  I would say family but it's not rolling off my tongue easy today or this month even. I am happy with "pack of people" for now."  Back to my point.  I enjoy sitting, reading, and viewing a nice magazine on occasion...just not one that costs as much as that.  Yet I guess that is only two loaves of healthy bread, one cheap bottle of wine,  one and a half gallons of organic milk, ten pair of mini gloves at WalMart China,  a food dinner at Culver's,  nice pair of socks, AN 1/8TH OF A TANK OF GAS!  That being said I guess the price wasn't so outrageous after all.   Wait, my new website only cost me $6.99 a month even though I am not sure I did it right meaning no one may ever see it.  Oh Lord call the Internet Po Po! 
I could have looked up a mess of Country Cottage blogs for free.  Okay okay stop beating myself up. 
I bought the magazine to get away from the computer for awhile.  Because the creative chip in my brain is screaming for information input lately. I want to make jewelry, sew shabby chic sofa and chair covers, make phenomenal Barbie clothes like no one has ever seen before. Long beaded gowns etc  (I have done this before) and draw a pencil portrait of someone, paint a table or a chair, re-do a room, and paint a positive saying on my wall! Oh and finish my two almost finished novels...That should keep my brain chip happy for awhile....

 Along with taking two weeks off work which I have not done in twenty years.  Guess Mom's who have to raise several children on their own don't get vacations unless they sleep with Buck Owens.  (Another blogpost from the past)  p.s. I didn't sleep with whatshisname Owens.  Which means I am beyond due for time earned - time off!  Or....an $11.00 magazine! 

This is called relaxing.......... 

 

I could wake up to these women inspiring me daily....even in my bathroom!

 

I love these new miniature fairy gardens.  They remind of dollhouses which is right  up my alley.  Humm the word alley usually implies low rent.  Must mean I am getting revved up for tonight's first episode of Myrtle Manor on TLC....   I hope my brain laughs so hard it sends all good to my heart and all other organs.  Laughing does that they say.  These little gardens also remind me of miniature train sets which I love to watch and create. 

                                                               Peace out with this room.........
I hope I cant get into trouble for using the photos from Spring Cottage by Hoffman Media!!
So until next time.....be safe, be happy, be well, and get rich so I can move to Sedona and allow my creative energies to flow where the spirits live closet to the earth...  and you can do whatever you wish.   Laters

Welcome to Myrtle Manor!...............by Diane Ogden

There ya go!  There I am right in the middle of Myrtle Manor.  I could be the other Grannie's friend. There is a Grandma on the show)

Seriously! As I said in the previous post, I have trailer trash in my background and I can pull it out of my ars faster than you can whistle South Carolina is my new home.  I pulled those fifty year old sunglasses I am wearing off the shelf for my photo opt.  They belonged to my Grandad who wore them all over the United States of America.  Mainly because he was afraid to fly anywhere else.  He carried a bottle of Seagram's 7 in the front seat next to his hip where his six shooter used to be. I am not lying!  He was one of the old cowboys in Austin, Texas.  Speaking of it I am myself having a brownie and a 'Bud!"  

 I tried to copy and paste the Myrtle Manor trailer so you could view but I cant find my clipboard where they say it went.  I do not care for the Honey Boo Boo show but this one has taken me over.  I laugh so hard at the trailers its not normal.  Must be the spirits of the ancestors hiding in my cells that they say never forget a thing!   The cells that is.  The cells of the trailer people in my fam background that is.  

I wrote to the Myrtle people and told them I was packin up the rusty Buick and heading for South Carolina.  I better check and see if that is really where they are filming.  I could get there and be outta luck huh?  And I am taking the lil dog too.  She can be in the movies too.  Heck they gotta big rusty above ground swimmin pool there.  And they said if you mess with one of em ya mess with the whole damn trailer park.  Now that's family and I have been looking for a new one.  I have done hit pay durt.  I mean dirt...   Laters 

From Google:
The built-in cast of eccentrics includes a Wiccan, a former drag queen (and resident hairdresser), a pelican-obsessed single mom and park manager Becky, a smug busybody who rides around the grounds in a golf cart, maintaining order through a megaphone.
“I’m not nosy at all,” Becky insists. “I’m just inquisitive. I’m on the smart side of nosy.” She maintains a long “don’t” list, including drinking outside and having a dirty yard.
When new resident Jared creates an outdoor sculpture made from a tire, golf club and a TV he set on fire, Becky pulls her golf cart over to scold him. “I wanted to kill him!” Becky recalls. “You’re gonna get rid of a TV, at least sell it! That TV wasn’t even broken.”
Becky embodies the most entertaining aspects of Southern, er, charm. She prefaces insults with ‘Bless her heart” and elevates gossip to an art form. About the blond, bikini-clad, hot-dog-selling team who live at Myrtle Manor, Becky deadpans: “The Weiner Girls supposedly sell hot dogs for a livin’. My daddy says they have a whorehouse. I’m not sure what kind of weenies they sell.”
While most reality TV is a far cry from documentary, Becky insists that the show is an honest look at life at Myrtle Manor, and that the cameras get to see the real her.
“People stereotype trailer parks — white trash, no teeth, no jobs, roaches and stuff,” she says. “We’re nothin’ like that. We’re no different than a subdivision. You don’t have to live in a $2 million home to have the perfect life! You can have the perfect life, and live in a trailer park.”


Read more: http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/tv-movies/myrtle-manor-gear-trailer-park-set-article-1.1274938#ixzz2MKornxQr

TRAILER PARK TERRACE............by Diane Ogden

I noticed we Americans have a new reality show coming to once again grace our ways.  Cross our paths, honor our existence, bless our spirits, teach us how to live better, and so on.  Yup, it's called  Myrtle Beach Manor.  It is barely a step up or should I say down from Honey Boo Boo. Another representative of American redneck heritage all the way to the corporate banks
.
After viewing the trailer for Myrtle Beach I was taking the dog out for a podie run.  Standing there in the gorgeous Wisco Sun (23 days to Spring) part of my brain speaks to the other part and says, "Humm, someone, no many, are cashing in on the trailer trash image.  And in case you didn't know it, there is another amazing show about Gypsy's who get married in outlandish gowns that look worse than what 7 year old girls put together from their dress up chests. Much worse not to mention the attitudes that match their verbiage. (reminds me of garbage) Of which I also have in the backyard of Ancestors.  See below Joe.

 Back to standing in the sun with various parts of my brain talking to other various parts of my brain saying:  "Hey Mama, you got yourself some trailer folk in the background!  Dig deep honey(boo boo and pull out some of that redneck family heritage trash and cash in!"  Its much easier to talk trash, act trash, and look like trash, than to play Orange County Wife Swap or whatever that is....

And maybe its more fun too.  Hey, Myrtle Beach is no more than a dramatic Dukes of Hazard show....  you know with Daisy Duke in her too short shorts and southern dumb drawl.  Not saying the southern drawl is dumb...unless Daisy is speakin' it.   And I could find me a shotgun somewhere along with an old Chevy or Ford pic up truck.  I could do it!  I could! But what if "it" rubbed off on me considering I have some of those roooots.

Do I want to?  The bank says yup....the brain says nope.  So until I hear, find, think, or see anything interesting or funny like my family above.  Be safe, Be well, Be Happy, and get rich so you don't have to fake being trailer trash to make big $.  Or maybe they are having the time of their lives playing trailer time on TV.  I think so.  P.S. the one in the hat is my Great Gma...  Second to left is my now 81 year old Mother.   The trailer belonged to my Grandmother (center bottom with her leg over some man's leg who I think is a direct descendant of the famous Judge Michael Torphy of Madison Wisco)
No seriously. 

Murder in the Boathouse.................by Diane Ogden

So this is not the dark scary boathouse I came in contact wiht earlier this year because I wouldn't want to use the real one. I had to change the names and place of incident to protect ME!  When I first encountered this home, I was taken on a tour of it's 4,000 sq. feet.  We got the the second basement family area, meaning this house has four levels and we were on the rock bottom level facing the lake.  I was sort of excited to open the door and check out the view which I did.  I opened the door and immediately shut the door on the dark dreary frightening boathouse I had just come face to face with.  Some say I am psychic and I am to a degree.....When I opened that door I sensed a murder had taken place in that boathouse and the spirit of the victim was still there. Or maybe it was a murderous spirit still there.  All I know is that spirit was frightening!!  I took the job offered to me which means I go to that home weekly and have never opened the door or blinds to that boathouse since that day.  And every worker/helper that has ever gone with me to that house tells me they do not feel comfortable there. (I never tell them about the spirit in the house)  The helper I have had for the past several months, and I, agree in prayer before we go into "The Lakehouse" every week and that has worked. We hold hands in agreement and tell the bad spirit it has to leave in Jesus name while we are in the home.  That it can come back when we leave and not before.This has worked for several months now... Until Today. I took my daughter with me to help out as the regular helper called in.  My daughter is extremely psychic and although I didn't tell her about the spirit......when we walked in to the house she told me she needed me to work with her as she didn't feel comfortable being alone in this house. I didnt ask any questions because I didnt want to hear what she might say.  And so per her request we worked together.  Then came time to go to the deepest basement area. Everything seemed to be going well until my daughter clearly and certainly said, "There is a murderous spirit around here!"  I was sitting on the steps and immediately felt cold as ice and smelled the distinct odor of sewer.  I knew it was the murderer.

I told my daughter to give me her hand and we agreed "it" had to leave in Jesus name.  It left within seconds as did the stink of sewer.  Bad spirits many times have a bad odor.  I thought my daughter was going to faint she was so scared and overtaken by the entire incident.  Cant say I was too happy about it.  I had worked for a long long time keeping that spirit away so we could work in peace.  Now I have to start over.  I had even called a prayer group in Oklahoma to help with this "one" way back when I first encountered "it" and now here we go again. 
So until next time I find something interesting or happy or funny.
Be Safe, Be Well, Be Happy, and get rich but just remember spirits don't care about $....... So take authority over any bad air you sense around you.  That'll make your day better.

Prissy Pants Lady ............ by Diane Ogden

So I was not able to do my weekly grocery shopping last eve due to the fact I lost my car keys which also had my apt. and mailbox keys on it...as well as my clicker, meaning my clicker to lock the doors, panic button, trunk button blah blah blah.  So I went to the grocery store today, Monday as well as to the Buick dealership to purchase a new CHIP in key which cost $40.00. I ran into another lady today who told me her CHIP key cost her $600.00.  Robbery I say! Back to my point.  I go to a grocery store that is non corporate owned.....  not like Wal Mart yet those are the sorts of folks I sometimes see there especially during a full moon.  Today I didn't see weirdo's but I did see Prissy Pants...  I almost laughed out loud while in the meat department when I looked up and saw Prissy Pants. 
Size 0-2 slick tight pants they call leggings, boots, leather jacket, long blonde fifty year old locks, all good until I saw the "mug."  (face)  OMG....This woman had long hair she curled in thick spirals, blonde or course..... and the look on her face was unforgettable.  SMUG...Sneering...half "COCKED" smile, and the fellow walking next to her was OMG so proud of his trophy priss "cocked" smiling lady...  I almost threw up in the isle.  Well not really but p l e a s e...  She was about 50 something and he was younger and so proud of her.  She must do something besides curl those locks. (I didn't say cocklocks) And omg the struttttt..  her strutttt... you know the bounce in the step with the boots on thingy.  I thought I should forget where I was and who I was at that nano second.  Why?  Because it was so out of the ballpart bad. He followed her like a puppy dog.  Seriously.  But then this is life.  And he is happy and she is bouncing uppie downie...  and I am laughing my ass off  knowing they are in for a rough landing from this plane ride.  Hope it is worth it Babbs. 
It was definitely worth it for me.  The laugh alone was great except I was embarrassed for her.  The Blonde ya know?
Maybe I was "The Blonde" once or twice in my lifetime so I better s h u t u p...and let those people be
who they are. I have a refrigerator magnet that says to "Honor everyone else's path!" So I should let them enjoy each other until they figure out why we/they are all here which isn't to prissy pants through the grocery store smugly.  Ever notice that word?  S M - Ugly. 
So until tomorrow or the next day when I come across something/anything .....be happy, be safe, be well, and get rich so you can prance through the mall, the grocery store, the car wash, church, or even anywhere.  With a bit more class I do hope.  Laters...
p.s. I know the photo is Lady GaGa but it sort of represents the lady I saw today....totally but with boots on.

Happy Valentines Day...........by Diane Ogden

As you recall or don't recall, I missed Christmas due to the 2012 flu.  It lasted way too long almost to the end of December...   That being said, I just took my tree down.   Considering I was behind "Time," I missed Valentines Day also.  So here I am trying to make up for it.  Whenever I see a heart in an odd place I take a photo of it.  As in the Baby Swiss Cheese I brought in my lunch today....   And once at a clients I observed a precious little heart nature had placed in one of the oak pieces of their hard wood floors in the kitchen.  That would have solidified my decision to purchase that home also.

Another time, Grace and I were visiting a neighbor.  Grace wondered off into her bedroom where later upon walking into that room I saw it! OMG - She peed with love a heart right there in the carpet. Seriously!  I couldn't make this one up. 

So I am wishing everyone to find hearts like I do.  In Swiss Cheese, in hardwood lumber flooring, in dog urine.  Well what can I say except it is what it is. 

So until I find some more hearts in strange places....  be safe, be happy, be well, and well, money really cant help you find these kind of hearts...but it can help you find and help many hurting hearts.  "Laters...."