As Time Goes By.....

A little bit about EVERYTHING.. Family , friends , life, death,rants and raves. Just a place for me to get it all out of my system..

Location: Arkansas, United States

Monday, August 21, 2006

Rubber Ducky

Click on the picture to see it full screen.

Jack outgrew the "baby" bath--
so Serena bought him a RUBBER DUCKY !!
(It's an inflatable tub for in the tub)

Yes , it even quack, quack quacks.
He loves his bath !!

It is an adventure having them here..

You tend to forget how time
consuming and absolutely adorable babies can be !

He had his 1st taste of mashed potatoes last night and seemed to enjoy them.
He has 2 teeth-- well sort of..... One is about 1/4 way up and the
other one just broke thru the other day.
Jack wants you to know that he is still working on his crawling
skills with Grandpa Tom every night after Grandpa gets home from work

Well I am losing out on Jack Time by doing this ,
so I will end for today...
Feel free to leave comments on the blog...

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Full House !!!

Tom flew to Florida to drive Serena's truck home. As you can see he had quite a load. Yes, that is a bottle of Kahlua and a bottle of olive oil sitting on the back of the truck..Don't ask....He made the trip safely and John drove the moving truck to the Houston area- and put everything in storage. So now we have Serena & Jack & John here with us, and we are enjoying every min. of it !! Tom spends a lot of time of the floor teaching Jack the dynamics of crawling and when I have Jack we work on sound effects.. He is catching on to both.

Now for the pictures from today.
This is Jack's first attempt at solid food.
eeeewwww- what's all the big deal about solid food!!
eeewww-- it is like , like ... eeeewwwwww

I'll show them, I'll just wear this food(?)
for dentures..
Click on pictures to enlarge them to full screen........

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Five Levels of Hangovers

To all my good drunkerbee friend and those who USED to be!-LK
(can any of you guess where this came from ?)
Five Levels of Hangovers
One Star Hangover (*)
No pain. No real feeling of illness.
You're able to function relatively well. However, you
are still parched. You can drink 5 cokes and still feel
this way. For some reason, you are
craving a steak & fries.
Two Star Hangover (**)
No pain, but something is definitely
amiss. You may look okay, but you have the
mental capacity of a staple gun.
The coffee you are chugging is only increasing your
rumbling gut, which is still tossing around the
fruity pancake from the 3:00 AM Waffle House excursion.
There is some definite havoc being wreaked upon your bowels.
Three Star Hangover (***)
Slight headache. Stomach feels crappy.
You are definitely not productive. Anytime a girl walks
by you gag because her perfume reminds you of
the flavored schnapps shots your alcoholic friends
dared you to drink.
Life would be better right now if you were home in your bed
watching Lucy reruns.
You've had 4 cups of coffee, a gallon of water,
3 iced teas and a diet Coke--
yet you haven't peed once.
Four Star Hangover (****)
Life sucks. Your head is throbbing.
You can't speak too quickly or else you might puke.
Your boss has already lambasted you for
being late and has given you a lecture for reeking
of booze. You wore nice clothes, but that can't hide the
fact that you only shaved one side of your face.
For the ladies, it looks like you put your make-up
on while riding the bumper cars.
Your eyes look like one big red vein, and
even your hair hurts. Your ass is in perpetual spasm,
and the first of about five shits you take during the day brings
water to the eyes of everyone who enters
the bathroom.
Five Star Hangover (*****)
You have a second heartbeat in
your head, which is actually annoying the employee
who sits in the next cube. Vodka vapor is seeping
out of every pore and making you dizzy.
You still have toothpaste crust in the corners
of your mouth from brushing your teeth in an attempt
to get the remnants of the poop fairy out.
Your body has lost the ability to generate spit so
your tongue is suffocating you. You don't have
the foggiest idea who the hell the stranger was
passed out in your bed this morning. Any attempt to
take a dump results in a fire hose like discharge of
alcohol-scented fluid with a rare 'Floater' thrown in.
The sole purpose of this 'Floater' seems to
be to splash the toilet water all over your ass.
Death sounds pretty good about right now ..
Indubitably; Innovative; Preliminary; Proliferation; Cinnamon
Specificity; British Constitution; Passive-aggressive disorder;
Loquacious; Transubstantiate
Thanks, but I don't want to have sex.
Nope, no more booze for me.
Sorry, but you're not really my type.
Good evening officer isn't it lovely out tonight.
Oh, I just couldn't. No one wants to hear me sing.
Sorry I'm being such a jackass.
A good friend will come and bail you out of jail...
but, a true friend
will be sitting next to you saying, '
Damn, we fucked up.'

Monday, August 07, 2006

Public Restrooms

Subject: The Public Restroom
( I received this from another Linda and thought I would share it )
My mother was a fanatic about public restrooms. When I was
a little girl, she'd take me into the> stall, show me how to wad
up toilet paper and wipe the seat. Then she'd carefully lay strips
of toilet paper to cover the seat.
Finally, she'd instruct, "Never, NEVER sit on a public toilet seat.
Then she'd demonstrate "The Stance," which consisted of
balancing over the toilet in a sitting position without actually
letting any of your flesh make contact with the toilet seat. That
was a long time ago. Now, in my"mature" years, "The Stance"
is excruciatingly difficult to maintain.
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find
a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors.
Every stall is occupied. Finally,a door opens and you dash in,
nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in
to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter.
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by
someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would
hang your purse on the door hook,if there were one, but there
isn't -- so you carefully but quickly drape it around your neck,
(Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!),
yank down your pants, and assume "The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin
to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't
taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold
"The Stance." To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you
reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser.
In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying,
"Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have
KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"
Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on
yesterday --the one that's still in your purse. That would
have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible.
It is still smaller than your thumbnail.
Someone pushes open your stall door because the latch
doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging
around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your
purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your
precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your
footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom
has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the
uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not
that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that
your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're
certain, her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because,
frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is
so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a
firehose that somehow sucks everything down with such force
that you grab onto the toilet paper dispenser for fear of being
dragged in too.
At that point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water
and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with
a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out
inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the
automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and
a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women, still
waiting. You are no longer able to smile politely them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of
toilet paper trailing from your shoe. ( Where was that
when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe,
plunk it the woman's hand and tell her
warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered,
used and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks,
"What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around
your neck?" . .
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public
restroom (rest??? you've got to be kidding!!). It finally explains
to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their
other commonly asked question about why women go to the
restroom in pairs.
It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand
you Kleenex under the door.

Friday, August 04, 2006

Benefits, Burn Bans, Critters and more

Just a little something to help you have cool thoughts..
This was March 1992
Ft. Collins, CO

August is here and it arrived hot and angry,
Burn bans every where you look, lawns are getting
crunchy and the worst part is the critters got in our
garden and ate every cantaloupe and tomato!!!
Tom managed to get a few bell peppers before whatever
got to them. I am sooo pissed, We have had 2 melons
and they were so sweet , I was waiting (and drooling) for
more. So much for moving into town.
Serena & John offically have a "SOLD" sign
on their house. So in just a few days , I will have
my babies back home.. YEA !!!!
I am going to take a beading class this afternoon, just
for something to do to occupy my time,
especially after they leave. I will really be lost.
Tom screwed up his knee at work yesterday.
He went to the clinic- they sent him for ex-rays,
and gave him a shot and some pills. He is
trying not to gimp walk, but he can try all he wants
I know how bad knees feel and I know the walk.
Of course he is at work today. No sitting it out .*$&!%$%#&
Never Mind-- Let's not "gimp" down that road..
Of course the dogs are still shedding -- clumping whatever
you want to call it. If I would have saved all of this hair I
could have built a winter shelter in the back yard.
So between the dog hair making me crazy and
our so called "benefits package" for
medical insurance- I was on a roll yesterday.
You call the numer -- excuse me --
"THE HELP LINE" - Which is a real joke.
Glad I was not bleeding or didn't have my foot
nailed to the floor. All you get is the )#&!%^$
voice mail. Then you listen to many many prompts,
and yes you can get them in English or
You finally leave a message and then you wait.
I have been waiting for 3 days to hear back about my diabetes
testing supplies. My meter broke- so I am not testing.
I am guessing.
Also had question regarding prescriptions I will be
taking the rest of my life, so to me that means they
are maintentace drugs.. Uh UH - Not to the "Benefits
Company". So that means I have to run to the
pharmacy every month to get 30 pills and pay the outrageous
co-pay of $30. I have a friend that takes the same meds,
Her co-pay is $15 for a 90 day supply.
SO tell me -- who is getting the "BENEFITS"???