musings of a southern fried optimist

New Sights to see!

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Wed, 01 May 2013 22:00:00 +0000

I have a question. Why does it take a visit from Tennessee cousins to discover fun places here in my very own neck of the woods? Heck, some aren't even new, they have just fallen by the wayside in my brain. And I guess since we have moved north, we just dont go down to Dallas as often. Teri and Ali usually come by themselves and we love seeing them every time! They think nothing of scooting to Dallas from Franklin for a weekend.

The fun starts as soon as the cousins get into town; when they head to Mariano's for Margaritas and Mexican food. These are the Margarita girls! A lunch stop at Campisi's for pizza is on the list, too! Ozona's (the old Cardinal Puff's) beer garden and a fairly new place called The Lot (where the old White Rock Yacht Club used to be and few other places are on the 'must see' list. I met them at Campisi's and Reagan and Melissa went to Ozona's. They have to get in a lot of visiting in a short weekend visit! Betty and Teri hang right with them.

With all these foodie stops you might wonder what these girls look like. Well, let me tell you, these girls are in terrific shape! They actually came to Dallas for the Color Run! I think the reason they run is so they can eat and drink what they like! They have it all figured out. There is a way to keep your sassy figure and eat and drink, too!

I got to meet 2 new family members; Patrice and Foxy Jenny. Patrice married my cousin Teri's son, Zack about a year and a half ago. She is darling and I understand why Teri is so crazy about her. When referring to Zack and Patrice, it is shortened to "Zap". Foxy Jenny is married to Teri's stepson. She has the biggest brown eyes I have ever seen! All of these girls are super cute, sweet as can be, fun and seem to be best friends. Reagan and Melissa fell under their spell and now want to go to Tennessee!

Collection vs Clutter

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 23:38:00 +0000

Does anyone else have a complete aversion to collections? I swear all you have to do is mention you like a certain something and before the year is out you will be inundated with more of those objects than you can shake a stick at; from cards to plastic figurines to weird quilted things! Be warned!

I credit this particular aversion to my mama. She wasn't much of a collector; unless you care to lump husbands into the mix. She hated clutter of all kinds and Sister and I do, too. Mama had a small French curio cabinet with tiny lights above each glass shelf. She kept several small bells and scant few treasures from trips she had taken inside but by no means would this constitute a 'collection'. I truly believe the only things Mama would have collected had she the wherewithal to do so, were Faberge Eggs.

I have visited folks who dont have one square inch of spare wall space. My ex mother-in-law fit into this category. She had one entire room devoted to her massive salt and pepper collection! Really and truly! There were floor to ceiling shelves filled with them! If you turned you head slightly, closed one eye and stuck your tongue out it sort of looked like a kaleidoscope! Mercy goodness I have never seen so many assorted ceramic shakers made like animals, states, buildings, historical people, Disney characters, you name it and she had a salt and pepper shaker! Every single state and national monument she ever visited was commemorated with a shaker.

Another friend from my single days collected hats. Every inch of wall space in her living room was filled with some vintage hat. Why, you couldn't even walk thru the hall without making contact with a feather or veil. Still another friend collects dolls. This is the creepiest collection ever. Its like that old Twilight zone where the ventriloquist dummy comes to life. These dolls eyes seem to follow you around the room!

While I was volunteering at the Dallas Arboretum they had a doll collection on exhibit during Christmas at the Arboretum. All of these dolls were positively ancient which added to the creep factor. They had a good and evil doll I still have nightmares about. Half of this doll's face was smiling and the other side was pure de evil! Gives me the heebie jeevies just thinking about it!

Personally I cant be bothered with collecting things. Heck, as it is, I spend more time arranging the pillows on the bed than I do on my hair. All I can say is that if you feel compelled to 'collect' something; choose wisely and remember if you are in an unfortunate accident, someone will have to pack them all up and figure out what to do with them!

Craigs List: Terror VS Treasure

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 17:32:00 +0000

OK, I'll start this off by telling yall that I know better. Im a grown woman with at the very least, a lick of sense. But that being said I also am quite aware that I may very well die while chasing a bargain. Now, Im not much of a daredevil, I dont smoke, I do enjoy a cocktail but not to excess, Im not a "shopper" nor do I throw my money away on frivolous things, but I do love a good deal and have been know to go to fairly great lengths to get one. It makes the victory sweeter if there was a challenge involved.

I have found several great "deals" on Craigs List. The movie about the Craigs List Killer sort of took the fun out of the "hunt" for a while. There are some wack-a-doos for sure, not just on Craigs List but everywhere. I like to think Im an OK judge of character but boy have I missed the mark a few times. I blame that on my Pollyanna attitude and opinion that everyone is basically good at their core. Gary worries, probably on account of my giving him several reasons in the past.

Yesterday while Gary was watching the Masters and mowing the yard and other things around the house I perused Craigs List looking for a guest bed for the room upstairs. Its the other bedroom in our 2 bedroom house that has never had a bed. Well, I take that back. There was a lovely and rather expensive queen size iron bed that I bought from Gabberts about 15 years ago in that room. When I started working at the consignment store I sold it there, thinking I would go in a different direction with that room. So, now, I have decided to turn it into a pretty guest room. What it all boils down to is that obviously I have way too much time on my hands.

The lady (Jess) with the bed on Craigs List answered all my questions. The bed is old, between the 1910 -1920 and was stowed in the attik of her grandmother-in-law's big old house in Michigan. She brought a few of them along with some antique doors and various things to Texas to clean up and sell from a house/antique shop in Waxahachie where she was living with her 2 year old son while doing temporary work in a dental office. People are so complicated. Anyway I really wanted this bed. It was just perfect for my vision of this room. The only problem was that she wanted to leave today to go back home to Arizona.

I didn't want to tell Gary because he was fixing to leave to go back to South Texas and I didn't want to complicate his day further! That meant I had to take a leap of faith. I didn't want to drive all the way to Waxahachie in the dusky dark so Jess agreed to meet me half way. Half way was the Dallas Zoo, not in the best part of Dallas. Was I really willing to risk my life for a good deal on an iron bed? I guess so because I grabbed my bungees, a couple of moving blankets and hit the road.

We pulled up at the same time and both of us exited our vehicles with great trepidation. I was so relieved! Jess is a lovely girl and when the headboard refused to go inside my car, she volunteered to follow me home. By this time I wasn't worried about her at all. She followed me back and muscled the bed frames into the garage. I paid her a little extra for her time and trouble and she didn't even want to take it! I wished her safe travels and she went on her way.

I love the bed! It was totally worth the leap of faith :D but next time I will think about it a bit longer.

Anything is Possible

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Wed, 10 Apr 2013 00:11:00 +0000

This has been a sad week indeed. We lost three women I held in high regard. Margaret Thatcher for obvious reasons; she was the IRON Lady after all; Annette Funicello because, heck, everyone loved sweet Annette and Lilly Pulitzer because I loved her casual fun style and her message that "anything is possible with sunshine and a little pink". These three women impacted my life in very different ways. Of the three, I will miss Lilly the most and I dont even care if that makes me shallow.

Lilly and Peter (the cad) on the beach

Lilly in one of her iconic shifts.

Lilly in 2004

I discovered Lilly Pulitzer (Pull-itzer, not Pew- litzer) fashions in Palm Beach on vacation in the 80's but it would be several years before I would have the nerve to wear such vibrant colors. Now it seems I positively live in them once Spring hits! It is impossible to be in a sour mood when you wear a Lilly print. Plain and simple, they just make you smile and feel good! I think we ought to have a national Lilly Day where everyone wears at least some little thing thats pink :D

Birthday Parties

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sat, 06 Apr 2013 13:29:00 +0000

Every year as March ends and April comes around, I am inundated with birthdays! Its no problem though because I am always up for a feisty celebration yall! Which reminds me; I have a dear friend, Donna Finch Adams who celebrates her birthday the end of March. We met when I was about 9 months pregnant with Rhys while living in Coppell. She had a display of amazing Raku at an outdoor art fair and I was totally taken with it and after asking questions about the process vowed to learn how to do it! Thankfully she taught Continuing Education classes at Brookhaven College and gave me the information I needed to sign up. I couldn't wait to have something creative to look forward to after Rhys got here (not that Rhys wasn't a creative endeavor).

Donna has a PhD in art, color and education and is fabulously detail oriented and accomplished in several media as well as being an international artist who operates out of her studio/living space now located in downtown Denison. She also teaches at several universities. I doubt she will ever retire. Donna's dashing husband, R.E. helps as well, making frames and stretching canvas. I do believe he retired mainly to help her. They are a very inspirational couple. She is about 20 years older than me and they spend every summer traveling Europe researching techniques and color and visiting their daughter, Mary.

Donna and I became fast friends. Poor R.E. would often have to suffer through our giggling fits after a couple of glasses of wine. He is a fabulous cook and it became a tradition that we would cook for each other on our birthdays. I loved that we would celebrate mine in the fall (a more civilized time of year in Texas to be born yall) instead of the heat of summer. Driving up to their house in the woods there would be lanterns and a Happy Birthday banner strung over the drive. I could always count on a wonderful mix of characters at their dinner parties. Conversation was lively, eclectic and intellectual. Wine flowed freely and the food always amazing! R.E. became a chef in his retirement and loved to create imaginative meals inspired by their travels.

One party that springs to mind was inspired from a trip they took to Spain. A mutual artist friend of ours, Chase had also returned from running with the bulls in Pamplona! There were lots of "running bull" jokes that evening. I believe he even brought a poster he had made from a picture of his bull swatting antics. Chase was a super fun party guest and a legend in his own mind.

At another birthday party, one of their guests (an opera singer) serenaded me with a theatrical rendition of "Happy Birthday". Tres' memorable! They really know how to throw a party and make you feel special. A hard act to follow, but incredible memories!

A Good Southern Woman

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sat, 23 Mar 2013 23:55:00 +0000

Contrary to many things that define a good Southern woman, such as a love of shopping and buffets, I consider myself to be exactly that. I was raised to be a little bit prissy, with good manners and grammar (colloquialisms do not count, yall). I learned to flirt before learning to walk and have it down to a fine art, just ask Sister. I am strong willed and pride myself on not really needing any help or maybe just hating to admit when I do need a little help..... like opening those blasted jars.

Southern foods like greens and beans and cornbread cant be beat and I never met a grit I didn't like; especially if it has a few BBQ shrimp on top! Fried green tomatoes with remoulade sauce, sweet potatoes and fried catfish are my idea of a great 'cheat day'! Pound cake can be considered a breakfast food and Tobasco makes everything "mo bettah".

It seems Im always fixin to do something and I hate to admit I have (on more than one occasion) been "drunker than Cooter Brown". Never met Cooter but Im sure he is a nice enough fella. I have been guilty of having hissy fits and telling my boys to "quit actin ugly" and to "hush up". Im always ready to go to the "show" and frequently get things from the "ice box".

I reckon I've had more than my fair share of pie. Even though Im not a son-uva-bitch about meat I do love good cream gravy on my biscuits. I love sweet tea and cant imagine anyone drinking it, or coffee straight up! Just the thought of it makes me pucker. Cokes are not my thing; none of them and its pretty much always julep season!

Everyone needs their heart blessed, yall.

My Peeps

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sun, 17 Mar 2013 23:27:00 +0000

There can never be too much said about the value of good friends. I happen to think I have the very best assortment of friends in existence, comprised of all ages and from all walks of life and varied political and religious affiliations. They give me a valuable perspective on this world. I guess one could say I have a 'melting pot' of friends! I credit them with keeping my mind open but hopefully not so much my brains fall out.

It might seem to some that I compromise my integrity by befriending folks so 'different' from me but in truth I see it as gathering information. Who knows when I might change my mind about something? We are allowed to do that, you know! Its not etched in stone that one must travel thru life only believing and thinking one way! I dont think everyone knows this!

Yesterday I met two very dear friends with similar sensibilities for our 3 times a year (plus Christmas), birthday lunch and movie date. We celebrate each other's birthday on a convenient date for us all, hopefully somewhat close to the actual date. Sara's birthday was in February. She got to choose the movie and the lunch spot, though Pam and I pretty much put our collective foot down when Sara wondered about the burgers at the little cafe in the theater! She is very easy to please.

The movie selections were kind of slim because Sara sees just about everything that comes out. I see about 1-2 a month and poor Pam works downtown so she doesn't get to the movies very often. Sara chose the 'Emperor' with Matthew Fox and Tommy Lee Jones. To be honest, I wasn't really looking forward to seeing this because well.... war history doesn't really hold my interest as much as.... lets say European history. But I can always count on Sara to broaden my horizons. That and Matthew Fox isn't my idea of a lead character. He didn't make a very imposing General with his slight stature and somewhat whiny voice. Tommy Lee Jones made a good Douglas MacArthur but he couldn't really disguise his Texas accent. MacArthur was from Arkansas though so I guess its not such a huge stretch. I mean, its not like he was trying to play a Yankee for cryin out loud.

Anyway, the movie was interesting, more like a school film or documentary than actual entertainment and I learned a bunch about the war that I never knew. Thats not to say I feel compelled to learn more about it, but it was informative and when the movie was over I made the comment that it was better than I thought it would be. Our taste in movies vary and I do enjoy that! Sara's choices are usually the head scratchers. Pam and I tend to lean more the same way. But I truly find something to enjoy about everything we see even if its just us getting together!

At lunch afterwards we catch up with whats going on in our lives. Even if its been months since we have gotten together, we pick right back up where we left off, without skipping a beat and that friendship is the best kind!

Maybe a Stick of Dynomite....

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Fri, 08 Mar 2013 13:16:00 +0000

Am I the only person who needs a kitchen version of the jaws of life to open things when I get home from the grocery store? Mercy goodness, Its getting to the point that when Im unloading groceries, panic strikes when I pull something out that has a protective gizmo and no instructions as to how to open the darn thing, like foaming soap for crying out loud.

Last night while taking a shower I shaved my legs as usual and then realized the protective razor cover was still on! I couldn't get the darn thing off to save my life. It had "on" "off" printed on the top with arrows but try as I might the cover wouldn't budge. I guess maybe it was supposed to slide, exposing the blade but I couldn't get it to move; not one iota! As soon as I got out, the entire bag of unused razors went into the box for the shelter. Perhaps some needy hairy person can figure the silly things out.

If these things happened only occasionally, I would merely be frustrated, but its something just about every day! Why, its a rarity when I can even twist the top off a bottle of water without the nutcracker I inherited from my sweet mother-in-law! Yes, she taught me a few tricks like the nutcracker and sticking a church key under a jar top to pop the seal. See, Im not the only one who doesn't have he-man hands.

Why do manufacturers over package products to the point that when you finally gain access, you have lost all interest in whats inside, except to hurl it across the room or stomp it to bits? If its "child-proofing" then something is terrible wrong with mothers of young children who allow them around such hazardous things as CD's and foaming hand soap! Heck, between those things and jars, occasionally I feel like that Meals on Wheels commercial where the poor old lady gets so tired of fooling with with the blasted can opener she stumbles off to bed hungry....... only I'd call Neiman's to see if they might deliver one of those lovely trays with the pineapple fruit salad boats and a ginormous piece of cake inside. A girl needs to have a 'plan B', yall.

Put Your Left Foot In..........

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Tue, 05 Mar 2013 17:49:00 +0000

Friday night Reagan and Melissa came over for dinner and a visit. He has been working 7 days a week in Houston so its been a few weeks since I have seen him! It occurs to me that I would not have fared well being a mom before cell phones and Facebook!

I had a busy day that started early with Friday Yoga then dashing down to Market Street where I had volunteered to help in their culinary school for a ladies literary club cooking class. Anyway, after yoga and running around the classroom for 3 hours I was pretty much ready to slip off the raft.

The class was good and the menu appealing. We started off with tortilla soup, then a southwest salad with chili vinaigrette, chicken and citrus slaw tostadas, and finally a sopapilla cheesecake! The time flew by and boy was I tickled when it came time for the 3 volunteers to grab a plate! The other volunteers were an elderly Catholic couple. They don't eat meat during Lent and I don't eat any either, if I can help it, so needless to say there was a lot of chicken leftover! The soup, salad and slaw were yummy without it. Since Im not a son-uva-bitch about cheesecake, I passed on that, as well.

At least I was armed with a dinner idea for Reagan and Melissa. I made the chicken and citrus slaw with jicama. It was very easy to pull together with a rotisserie chicken. The French bread and Argentinian wine rounded out the meal. The best part is that I froze the leftover chicken and plan to make Gary a stir fry when he comes in Friday night! Sometimes my brain actually plans ahead like that! Not often, but occasionally.

It was a fun evening of wedding talk and listening to the songs for 'mother son' and 'father daughter' dances. The problem as I see it is going to be all the tears shed. My make-up is going to end up in a puddle on the floor! Im thinkin instead of such sentimental songs perhaps we ought to just do the Hokey Pokey!

A Little Fun in Farmersville!

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Thu, 28 Feb 2013 21:15:00 +0000

Tuesday I had an unexpected invitation to go to Farmersville with some girlfriends to do some antiquing and have lunch. We have been before and had a great time. The folks there are super friendly. Gary's great grandmother was from Farmersville and we have tromped thru several graveyards to no avail, looking for her marker.

The French Bunny is a cute little place on the square. It has a lovely mix of consignment pieces and new things. We also enjoy perusing Main Street Antiques at the end of the block. They have a varied garden section out back with some great bargains. The ladies who run it act like they have known you forever, making you feel right at home and are always ready to wheel and deal. We never leave there empty handed! Why, on the last trip I found this giant concrete pineapple that our courtyard unknowingly was just crying out for! Poor Reagan had to bring it in from the car because...well...have yall ever tried lifting concrete? It rode everywhere with me for at least 2 weeks or more because I wouldn't let Gary touch it! I love it though and its doing a fine job of welcoming folks beside our front door; that is, once they get past the locked gate.

There is another fine antique shop on the square that is by 'appointment only'. We have peeked in the window often enough to be chomping at the bit to get inside. Kay, Kathy and Barb are the antique mavens. Goodness gracious, Kay can tell you every different type and name of glass and china not to mention furniture! Me, not so much. I like to look at antiques and have a couple of tea tables from the early 1800's that my Uncle Lloyd's great aunt bought in France a hundred years ago. I love them because of the family connection not because I sought them out.

On this particular day we hadn't decided where to have lunch. Odd for us since lunching out is usually the driving force of a shopping date. The girls had gone to the tea room inside The French Bunny before and didn't care for it. They are not tea room girls though, so in all honesty it might not be a fair assessment. There are 2 Mexican restaurants in Farmersville; one new and one old. Jalapenos is the new place and there is also one here in McKinney. I have been and its pretty good. Tony's is the older place. We asked every proprietor for a recommendation and ended up at Tony's. How we came to that decision is sort of amusing.

So, the reason that particular "by appointment only" antique shop on the square is never open is because its owner is also the town undertaker. We figured the undertaking business in Farmersville must be booming because he is never there (Kay wondered if that might be partially how he furnishes his shop). But this time we called the number on the door, he answered and he said he would be right down. We had no idea what to expect but this very handsome, well dressed older man walked up the sidewalk towards us and apologized for making us wait in the cold and promptly let us in.

What a history lesson he gave us. He took us on a tour of his entire shop, explaining the pedigree of each very fine piece of furniture, glass, lamps, and paintings. Why, he has a chest from Salem, Mass. made in 1700! I'd sure like to hear the stories that piece could tell! Most of his things are European though and priced not to sell. In fact we think he just likes to collect lovely things and tell people about them. He clearly enjoyed our visit and not only told us to go to Tony's but offered to buy our lunch! That settled it.

Tony's was very fresh, cooked to order, and all around good Mexican food! We will go back and we even paid for our own lunch:D

Ho Hummmmm Oscars

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Mon, 25 Feb 2013 16:47:00 +0000

I could tell by Facebook that Im not alone in thinking the Oscars were tacky and boring. Seth Macfarlane was not funny or the least bit entertaining in my book. Granted he is a talented guy but he lost me during his song about "boobs". How tacky and juvenile, much like his TV shows (from what little I know).

The orchestra played so loudly I could scarcely make out what the performers were singing about! I tried to read Nora Jones' lips to no avail. Adele usually has such a strong voice and she was hard to hear, too. Shirley Bassey and Barbara Streisand were slightly easier to hear but they were earlier in the show, not that that should have anything to do with it. For a while I thought my hearing was going.

All the seamstresses must have been on strike because I was hard pressed to see a woman in a dress that even fit, much less flattered. With all the ill fitting and wrinkled gowns on display, I guess Hollywood was without irons and mirrors, too. Jane Fonda looked amazing but I needed my sunglasses just to watch her walk haltingly across the stage. Must be that new hip giving her trouble. Lots of the men didn't seem to get fitted for their tuxedos either. Oh well.....

But while Im on the subject; lord have mercy, if I had known Brandi Glanville was going to be there it would have served me well to buy stock in Duct Tape. She must have used rolls of the stuff just to keep that dress up! But again, far be it from me to criticize these women. They were invited and I wasn't. On a positive note, I liked what Bradley Cooper's mom told Kristin Chenoweth when asked 'who' she was wearing! She said she didn't know because it was something she just pulled out of her closet. She looked better than many of the stars!

Old Beaus

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Mon, 18 Feb 2013 13:06:00 +0000

Isn't it creepy when you happen upon an old beau, years later and not looking your best? Since I rarely look "my best" it can hardly be a surprise when I do run into one. Two weeks ago at the gym I thought I saw Larry. Then I kept seeing him, or who I thought was him several times. I never said anything because I wasn't absolutely sure it was him until he said "hi" and I almost swallowed my tongue.

Larry and I were together for a couple of years back in 93'.... 20 years ago! We looked into buying a house together and even toyed with the idea of eventually marrying. We went to San Francisco together and took our kids on fishing and canoe trips to East Texas. It seemed to be an easy sort of relationship but it sure didn't start out that way.

I guess you could say It was sorta doomed from the start. On our first real date he picked me up at my house to go to a gallery opening. As we were walking toward his car, my previous boyfriend, Lynn pulled up and got out with a bouquet of flowers and walked towards us screaming warnings at Larry and eventually throwing the flowers at my feet! Looking back, I dont think I had told him emphatically that we were finished. Either that or he was a hammerhead. Probably a little of both.

So, after telling Larry I had no idea why in the world Lynn would act that way, we shook it off and headed to the gallery. We grabbed a glass of wine and started winding our way thru the crowd to look at the art work of a few friends. While we were standing on one side of a partition I happened to catch a glimpse of Lynn coming in the door. Mercy goodness, I could tell this wasn't going to end well. It didn't take a minute for him to spot us and before I could say "scat" he grabbed an unsuspecting Larry by the shoulder, whirled him around, threw his glass of wine at him and punched him right in the face! Just like that! As Larry hit the floor, the protective mama bear in me emerged and I jumped on Lynn's back, wrapping my legs around his waist, hung onto his ponytail and commenced hitting him over the head with my lovely cordovan Coach bag (not a proud moment for me yall). As I rode around piggyback yelling "help help", the contents of my purse scattered across the floor and I remember hearing one fella chuckle and say I was the only one that didn't seem to need any "help"... the nerve!

The minute the gallery owner hollered "the police are coming" I slid off Lynn's back and he dashed out the door, lickity split. By this time a crowd had gathered around Larry and I bent over him asking if he was ok. The only thing he said was "Im too old for this". Adding insult to injury, the evening's fiasco made it into the next week's Dallas Observer.

I was surprised when Larry called and came over the next day. He had a real impressive shiner and a bruised and swollen face. We drove out to the barn so he could meet Jimmy and watch me ride for a bit. Then he wanted to ride. I told him a few of Jimmy's little quirks and what not to do. Of course Larry had never ridden in an English saddle so I had to give him a few pointers, mainly to keep his his heels down. Off they went. I cautioned Larry not to give him free rein but it went to deaf ears. Sheesh, why dont men ever listen....

A few minutes later I see Larry hunched over and limping down the hill. As he came closer I noticed a stirrup leather over his shoulder and Jimmy racing toward his buddies in a turnout pen. Good Grief!

After taking Jimmy's tack off and turning him out, Larry and I enjoyed a picnic under a tree by the barn. I was telling him he needed to go over and talk with Jimmy so they could end things on a good note. Begrudgingly, he walked over to the fence and offered him a carrot but Jimmy wanted his watch instead. He grabbed the metal band and a little flesh and twisted it until Larry yelped!

Looking back, our entire relationship was a series of unfortunate events and its really a wonder he even said "hi" when he passed me in the hallway at the gym.

Happy Valentine's Day!

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Fri, 15 Feb 2013 00:32:00 +0000

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I woke up as usual with a smile on my face and a song in my heart, which is saying something since Little Miss Ivy Thomason has an upset tummy. Its such a helpless feeling when our fur people are sick. I hate it when she looks at me like "Whats going on, why is my tummy making crazy noises?" We rescued her in August 2011 with a broken leg; the day before they were going to put her down. I happened upon her while I was at the Dallas City Pound looking for Reagan's dog. Ivy was about 6 weeks old. She was so tiny and helpless in that big cage just quivering. I called Gary and told him we just had to save her. I really lucked out because Gary loves animals as much as I do.

We have been really fortunate because our pups have been extremely healthy with very few vet visits. But it makes it that much harder when they need to go! I will give her a few days with rice and Imodium before subjecting her to the vet.

Anyway, its been a good Valentine's Day aside from that. Zumba was great as usual and then I went to Art Club for a neat program on Zentangle. Its a meditative form of doodling and who cant use a little meditation in their lives? We even got to do one and I have to say a few of the ladies sitting on my row were very relaxed when they finished.

One of these days maybe Gary and I will get to spend Valentine's together! Hope springs eternal!

Potato, Potaahto, Sofa, Couch......

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sun, 03 Feb 2013 01:13:00 +0000

At the risk of sounding like a snob Im going out on a limb here. And to tell you the truth, Im not quite sure where it comes from but when people refer to certain things or use certain words it tells me a lot about them. Let me just preface this by saying I know several people who use words such as "done" when they mean "finished" and I dont believe I have ever corrected them (as tempting as it may have been). It drives me crazy but I somehow show remarkable restraint.

I dont pretend to hold myself remotely close to her standards, but our mother was the queen of English grammar. If we were fortunate enough not to be corrected in public, we could tell by the wincing look on her face that we had eviscerated the English language in some way and she would let us know about it later. How she came by this talent, Im not sure. I know she majored in English in college and my grandparents were well spoken, well read and very proper, but growing up I dont remember anyone else being so overly critical. Because of this, in my eyes Mother became the epitome of good taste and all things proper (hairstyles excluded).

Once, I asked Mother what the difference was between a "sofa" and a "couch" and she said something along the line of "a sofa is what we have in the living room and a couch is what people who live in trailer houses have". I was young enough to think if a man said he 'slept on the couch', then he must have gone off to sleep in a trailer somewhere. It was all very confusing to my literal mind. Later I determined on my own that "couches" were the more casual of the two and vowed I would hopefully never own one. Just the word itself is unappealing, "cow ouch". Sounds too much like crotch for cryin out loud!

When Gary and I lived in Hooterville, one of our neighbors had this hideous emerald green leather behemoth that took up her entire living room, bending this way and that. Besides being a visual horror, it had flip out cupholders and storage (!!!) behind the giant back cushions! I couldn't imagine why anyone would want such a monstrosity in their living room. If you had a TV room or home theatre maybe, but even then its certainly not my cup of tea, but I guess you could keep jugs of tea in the storage bins ..... Then it dawned on me, perhaps I dont want anyone to get that comfortable in my house.

Sofahhhhh

Are we clear?

Bath Time.......

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Thu, 31 Jan 2013 22:16:00 +0000

I am acutely aware that this is an inexhaustible subject and, well I wasn't quite finished..... bear with me.

On Sunday evenings, while Im having a cocktail and watching TV, Gary usually bathes the pups. Im not sure just how physically taxing it is but if you go by the way he carries on, its akin to running a marathon. To tell you the truth, I would hate to do it too especially after he gets them all worked up! He totally brings this on himself by talking it up; "Jackie, do you want a bath Sugah", "Its time for a bath", "Its bath time", "Lets take a bath", etc. The mere word "bath" gets varying responses. Jackie tucks his head under a sofa pillow, becoming invisible; while Miss Cricket dives under the recliner, getting herself wedged in the process.

This is a bad thing. Jackson & Cricket are pretty mellow for a Jack Russell and Poo Hua Hua. Ivy, however is psychotic about 75% of the time, sometimes requiring one of her snug shirts just to calm her down. Ivy doesn't have a clue what "bath time" even is because she doesn't get one! But Jackson and Cricket act as if Gary is going to dunk them in battery acid! Its mean to tease pups!

I asked Gary how he would feel if I started randomly saying "Its tax time" "Lets get everything ready for the CPA"? "Time to write the IRS a big ol check". Its basically the same thing, as I see it. Nothing stresses Gary out more than the mere mention of the IRS. Its an irrational fear! One might think he has been audited, the way he carries on. I have a friend who retired from the IRS and he was more than a little apprehensive going to her retirement party, for cryin out loud. Like agents were going to be waiting for him! Sheesh

So, wouldn't you think he would have some empathy for the pups? But no, he likes to tease them about bath time. Funny though, when they get in the warm water they stretch out with their hands at the front of the sink and actually love it! Gary lathers them up and rubs their backs in the process. Jackie gets blown dry, which admittedly he isn't a son-uva-bitch about, but afterwards he prances around the house like he's just won the Westminster!

Next its Cricket's turn. I have to tilt the recliner forward while Gary grabs her because its impossible to get her out any other way. Same thing though; when she is in the warm water, she stretches out and seems to really enjoy it! Cricket's hair is different so she gets toweled off. Then she proceeds to tear through the house lickity split. She dives under their giant floor pillow and carries it across the room. Ivy goes crazy chasing her.

Ivy only gets bathed in Cricket's swimming pool during the summer because well.... life it too short and I still need my hands. She doesn't care for water at all. When she starts really smelling like staled Fritos, I'll wipe her down with a wet towel and follow up with a dryer sheet; kind of a 'hoor bath' for pups :D

Whats Your Pup Thinkin?

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Tue, 22 Jan 2013 00:06:00 +0000

I swear, Gary is always making the craziest statements like "Jackson Brown is depressed". I usually say "he's fine, look, he's waggin his tail". "No, he's depressed alright". The next statement is the reason Jackson Brown is depressed. Something like "He thinks Im ignoring him and spending too much time playing with the others". I usually say "he'll get over it at dinner time".

If I question him further he will tell me he is "kinestic". Yes, I know. Gary was blessed with his very own vocabulary. I sometimes worry because I know what he means. Rather, let me say I know what he is trying to convey, which frightens me a little bit sometimes. He KNOWS intuitively what the pups are thinking and feeling. I would say sort of like Cesar Millan (the Dog Whisperer), only Gary is not much in the way of a teacher or trainer. His way of scolding the pups when they are doing something bad is to say "lets not do that, OK?" Seriously, he is the furthest thing from a pack leader. I hate to say that job falls to me because he doesn't want to be the 'bad guy'.

One might think he is nuts but let me tell you, most times he really does know what is going on with them. Not that they are depressed but what they want at any given time. Whereas, I work more on a schedule as far as taking them out and feeding them goes. I dont try to 'feel' when they need to pee. I usually wait till they come and get me or bark at the door. Silly me. I bet though pretty much any pup will go outside anytime you get up and open the door and the same with a 'cookie'. Heck, no one has to read my mind to know I would love a cookie!

I think whats really going on here is a case of transference: Transference is a phenomenon characterized by unconscious redirection of feelings from one person to another (or pup).

But until there is a therapist that works with people AND their pups, Im going to let it go and just love him anyway...

Paper

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Tue, 15 Jan 2013 21:24:00 +0000

Im smitten with paper. There it is. It’s a weird little addiction to be sure, but I'll own it loud and proud just the same. Everyone who knows me, knows 'thank-you' notes are near and dear to my heart. I have a real fear that, as people write more and more emails and fewer and fewer letters and notes, the distinct possibility exists of whole chunks of family histories evaporating! Scary thought huh? What would we know about our ancestors if it weren't for margin writings in Bibles?

What about penmanship? Remember when we were actually graded on penmanship in school? Talk about a lost art. And spelling, too! Mercy goodness, where would we be without spellcheck? I think positively everyone ought to play Words With Friends if for no other reason than to keep in touch with their spelling ability (or lack thereof). How stupid would we all sound if we didn't have computers and spoke in wanky abbreviations?

Why, I remember as a kid how thrilling it was to receive a letter from my grandmother or Aunt Kat. Grandmother had the most elegant handwriting. It was so easy to read. Poor Aunt Kat; she should have been a doctor with that chicken scratch. Sister and I would often times read and re-read a letter or postcard finally handing it to Mama who had years more experience reading her seizured script. It always looked as if she had written it while riding full tilt in a jeep chasing wildebeests through the Serengeti! But how we loved receiving them.

When you see a handwritten letter or card in the mailbox, doesn't it give you a warm feeling all over just knowing someone thought enough of you to sit down and hand write even a few words? Talk about spreading a little adoration around. I believe thats what I miss most; that and civility. We dont seem to make time anymore for the old basics like letters and thank-you notes.

If you want to make a fabulous lasting impression, writing a personal note is one sure fire way to do it!

Riding the Train to MeMaw-ville

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Tue, 08 Jan 2013 20:53:00 +0000

Im not sure if its because its so cold and gray outside or if its the pending marriage of my eldest but Im having sweet memories of my grandmother this morning. My grandmother was the best but dont ask me why. Its not like we did a whole lot together. She didn't drive so whatever we did happened inside. Come to think of it, she rarely did anything outside. She had to go outside at some point Im sure, but I just dont recall her out there. I do kind of remember putting puzzles together and playing dominoes and watching her cook. She read the Bible a lot and rarely had a bad thing to say against anyone (unless they were Italian, Jewish, African American, Irish, Catholic, etc) but as far as having fun goes Im pretty much at a loss...... She made great lemon pie and Chicken Spaghetti.

Now, her sister, my great Aunt Kat was F U N! She was a world traveller. She rode elephants in India and Camels in Arabia. She went on African safaris and stayed in the Treetop Hotel in Kenya where the monkeys would swing down and grab the guests purses and cameras! She was game for just about anything. Her name was Miss Adventure (not misadventure, yall)! As far as cooking goes though; mostly what I remember is scrapey toast, burnt sugar cookies and pecan pie with the plastic wrap covering the frozen crust being cooked into the pie. She loved to go out to eat and that was fine by me!

I guess those pending nuptials have me thinking about pending grandchildren! Yikes! Did I really say that? Am I old/mature enough to be a grandmother? Definitely 'yes' to the first and 'never' to the second. Glad there isn't some test I'll have to take! Oh well, I have to say Im pretty darn excited at the prospect; not of being just any old grandma though. I can think of all sorts of adventures for us to get in to. First the name. I dont want them calling me "Granny" or "MeMaw". Gary's grandkids call me Topsy but we dont see them very often. Im vacillating between "Topsy" and "Mumsy". I like them both.

I can scarcely wait for the good times to begin! Kayaking at White Rock, ziplining, exploring pueblos in New Mexico and hiking in Bandalier! I intend on being a fun grandma. None of the "take a nap" "eat your veggies" stuff will spring from my lips, no-sir-eeeee. We will be eating ice cream for breakfast and staying up way past bedtime watching movies and playing games (if I can make it). I cant wait to take the little tot to my favorite places for lunch and dress him/her up. Of course I only have experience with boys so if it happens to be a little girl, well... I'll have to fly by the seat of my pants. Maybe we can get pedicures and matching Lilly Pulitzer outfits!

Yep, its going to be way different from when I had my own kids. If you ask the guys, I bet they would say we had loads of fun and were always on the go. We never much adhered to a daily schedule because we were too busy going and doing! If they were sleepy, they slept and if they were hungry, they ate. Not that there's anything wrong with a schedule, it just didn't fit our lifestyle.

Im all about having fun now more than ever because life is short! Of course, I plan to spoil the tot like crazy but I also want to have memorable experiences. A great legacy would be; one day when he/she is 50 asking Reagan and Melissa "Did I have a nutty grandmother who woke me up at 3 in the morning to play in the snow and eat chocolate cake?" This will not surprise Reagan at all.

Its HighTime

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 22:57:00 +0000

I know its a brand New Year and thats reason enough to get tooted up but Im referring to "high time" as in "what took you so long". In other words; get with the program! People who know me, know that even though Im an early riser, I am a late bloomer. Things usually occur to me long AFTER the fact. Practically all my life I seem to have been a day late and a dollar short. I 'get' the joke the next day, type of thing. Naive and optimistic I prefer to call myself, but I truly know I am oblivious to many things. Careening out of control down the highway of life; yep, that about sums me up. Only difference is that now its more of a 'mosey out of control'.

Well, my 2013 resolution is to live fearlessly with a capital F! It will have to be in my own time though; which I have been told is rather poky. Thats OK, I dont need to be the first lemming off the cliff but I'm at least going to attempt to figure out my new phone and update my iMac. I put these things off as long as I can because...well...I scared. Mama loved this sort of stuff. She was fearless with all things mechanical and no doubt would have mastered computers and these blasted cell phones with unmatched skill and bravado. I remember as a child watching in utter amazement as she fixed the TV and dismantled the Hoover's innards right in the middle of the living room floor, all the while sipping a cocktail and smoking a cigarette. She was a multi-tasker before the term was even invented! Unfortunately, I didn't inherit that skill set. Heck, I dont even think I inherited the desire.

Gary got us both new iPhone 5's for Christmas, so naturally everything is different. I had my iPhone 3 for 2 years and still wasn't sure what all it could do and thats just fine by me. I would have been happy with an iPhone 4 but Gary insisted we get the newest version. This phone is making me crazy! I am trying my hardest, but mercy goodness, it cant even 'sinc' up with iTunes anymore, my apps have all disappeared, and my Bluetooth no longer works because it says I need a password? My Bluetooth never had a password that I was aware of. Why, I went to my bank and asked about that deal where you take a picture of your check and its magically deposited. The nice fella was trying to walk me thru the process but my user name and password didn't work for that either. They had to send me some random number via text later in the afternoon so I could "reset" yet another password. When will it end? I feel as if my life is password protected and Im locked out!

Come to think of it, it is high time for a cocktail.......

Bobbing & Weaving in the Kitchen

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sat, 22 Dec 2012 18:44:00 +0000

I recently saw this and had to share it with yall, what with it being the holidays and all. It reminds me so much of our grandmother and Aunt Kat and the writing sort of sounds like me, too. With its references to my dear old literary friends, Faulkner and also Truman Capote's play, Holiday Memory (which I just saw a week ago) Here it is.... enjoy!

Now I have always suspected that friendship cake (aptly named, I might add, because the more you eat, the friendlier you get) was really just a ruse so that nice Southern ladies could have a little nip in the middle of the day. It wouldn’t be seemly, you see, to knock back a pre-party shot, no matter how many relatives were fixing to descend on you, no matter how many gifts were left to wrap, no matter how much cooking and dishwashing lay ahead. But a little fruit served over cake, or ice cream, or straight out of the jar, well…it’s just a little dessert after all. A sweet treat to give you a little sugar boost. And it would be positively rude not to partake of a gift. No matter if it is so stout that just removing the lid will make your pin curls droop. One mustn’t be rude. Come to think of it, many traditional Southern Christmas desserts seem to include more than just a little of the sauce.

Mama always said William Faulkner was referring to Lane cake when he described a dessert that was “wicked as sin.” Despite that characterization, Lane cake was always on our holiday menu. Created by Clayton, Alabama native Emma Rylander Lane, this layered white cake features a filling comprised of eggs, sugar, coconut, pecans, raisins, and, of course, bourbon. Now Emma must have been some sort of cooking phenom because making a Lane cake is no mean feat. There are egg whites to beat until your arm falls off, pecans to shell and chop, coconut to peel and grate. It’s a flat lot of work. I can only imagine that after all that effort Emma might have tasted the bourbon just to make sure that it would be the perfect complement to her confectionery creation. Just a teensy taste. Or two. Just to make sure the cake would be fit to eat.

Another Christmas favorite is rum balls. Crushed Nilla Wafers mixed with Karo Syrup, nuts, cocoa and a little 151 to hang it all together — does it get any better? There would always be a big plateful of rum balls at our family Christmas party. I remember sneaking them with my cousins as children. One bite and a warm feeling spread upward through my nasal cavities and down deep in my chest. Two bites and, well, I just felt warm and fuzzy all over. And what is Christmas really all about but feeling warm and fuzzy? Well, there is the birth of Baby Jesus…

But sometimes it’s all about fruitcake, at least in Prohibition-era Monroeville, Alabama. Truman Capote and his spinster cousin kicked off their winter holiday whenever Sook declared it to be “fruitcake weather.” Off they would go with their savings from the past year to procure all the ingredients, including, and most importantly, a quart of bootleg whisky from one Mr. Haha Jones, which he gave them for a promise of a cake. After days and days of work and after all of the cakes had been made and shipped away to their lucky recipients, Truman and Sook were left with just a little whiskey in the jar, just enough to divide in celebration of another year of fruitcake success. And celebrate they did with much singing and dancing in their otherwise somber, teetotalling household. “Road to ruination?” Hardly. Greasing the skids to unabashed revelry? Most certainly.

And that’s what I like in a holiday — revelry. Merry-making. Jollity. I like sharing recipes and traditions. I like noshing on a bourbon-soaked raisin or two and dancing with my Mama in the kitchen just like Truman and Sook. I like the warm fuzzies on a chilly afternoon. And I love me some sweet, liquor-y desserts — the making, the baking, and especially the eating.

Now, I’m sure that we had many holiday treats sans shinny*. Surely we did. I think. Maybe a piece of divinity or a sugar cookie or something. But one thing I am definitely sure of is this — our Christmases were always merry and bright. Very merry and bright, indeed.

*Shinny is short for “shine” which is short for “moonshine.” In To Kill a Mockingbird, Scout says “Miss Maudie baked a Lane cake so loaded with shinny it made me tight.” If you drink a lot of shinny, or even a little bit, you will certainly be tight, among other things.

Polyglot Pups?

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Wed, 19 Dec 2012 02:55:00 +0000

I declare, now I've heard everything! If a proposed law passes in Montreal, all dogs in that Canadian city will need to understand both English and French! Im not even kidding! Guess we can cross Montreal off our list of possible places to retire.

Seriously, this fella, Benoit LaDouce (Montreal city councilor), came up with the nutty idea and told CBC Radio that "it's necessary to counter the "chaos" resulting from dogs at public parks who understand commands in only one language. The current situation in Montreal Dog Park is untenable chaos," he told CBC Radio. "The various dog commands are incomprehensible to each other." I have to laugh here; the man obviously has never had a pup. Most of the time they totally ignore you, no matter what language you speak, unless you are holding a ball or a cookie.

LaDouce was dead serious in an inadvertently hilarious interview with the station and said he was inspired to propose the law after a dog began licking his face and did not respond to French commands. "Our alienation from each other was absolute," This guy should be on SNL!

LaDouce wants all dogs in the city to learn at least 80 to 90 commands in both languages, calling the task "basic stuff." He said each canine should be subjected to a test by a city employee to confirm the animal's bilingual comprehension.

I see all sorts of problems with this law. What about dog owners who are not bilingual? HELLO! Are they at risk of having their pups taken away by some city government agency? Heck, I can barely order a salad and a small fork in French, much less teach a pooch 80-90 commands!

LaDouce said "I'm working on it day and night," so Im guessing he has no life away from his job with the city, which certainly explains a lot.

While discussing this with my cousin, Nicolas, I found out he had a dog, Vicky, when he lived in Paris that knew French and Russian, then learned Spanish in Chile from their maid and English when they moved to NY! Needless to say, Vicky was an extraordinarily bright pup.

A week or so ago I saw something equally crazy on TV, a lady teaching a big Schnauzer to drive a stick shift car. He was doing a fine job of it, too! Wouldn't that be something to have a multilingual dog to drive you around? You could dress him up and put a little chauffeur cap on him. Just imagine stopping at a red light, a car pulls up beside you, the driver's side window rolls down and the pup driving the car says "passez le Poupon s'il vous plaît".

Sugarplum Crazy........

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Fri, 14 Dec 2012 23:03:00 +0000

Christmas can sure be a mixed bag of emotions. There is just too much going on this time of year, making it hard for any sane person to keep their wits about them. Why, I feel like I spend most of my days chasing my tail, not really accomplishing much of anything. I thought I'd never get those presents wrapped and under the tree and whats worse, I didn't seem to care! Sometimes I just have to wait till the spirit moves me and that can be a mighty long wait. Gone are the days when I would use white paper, write names in glue and apply sequins with tweezers. Sheesh

I guess we could all use a little help. Occasionally I roam around this big ol house noticing things that need tending to and then a couple of days later I see the same things again when it suddenly occurs to me that I am the one who needs to tend to them. That must be left over from childhood memories when Mom used to take care of things. Somehow I still haven't gotten used to the buck stopping with me, darnit.

At Christmas time I could sure use an extra pair of hands to help get things done around here as well as bounce ideas off of. Like what to fix for Christmas Eve dinner. Last year's tamales were such a bust that I vowed not to fix them again but just today Fed Ex brought 3 dozen and Gary told me he ordered bean tamales from a lady he works with so by golly, I guess we will be having tamales!

I love playing silly games after dinner on Christmas Eve, too. Thanks to L (Noel) Cocktails we are relaxed and in good cheer by then, no matter how awful dinner is. Why, last year we all laughed till we fell over playing that Asian (Chinese) crazy gift exchange and this year Im adding Hispanic (Mexican) Train Dominos! Im hoping for the same fun time this year, too.

Sitting in here looking at the tree, listening to Christmas music makes me nostalgic. I start thinking about Christmas times, back when we were kids. I remember in the 2nd grade (I think) reading "Twas the Night Before Christmas" and for a very long time wondering how someone "threw up the sash" and how painful that must have been!

One of my favorite carols was "Angels We Have Heard On High" even though the words didn't seem to make much sense to me, especially when the chorus sings "cranberry sauce and mayo". I wondered what in the world those angels were doing mixing them together and then singing about it!

And last but not least, I always loved the Bible story of Daniel and how he interpreted the dreams of Nebuchadnezzar in Babylon. There was Shadrach, Meshach and a bad negro all walking out of the fiery furnace. I felt that surely to goodness he was misunderstood and just knew he didn't mean to be bad.

All I Want for Christmas is a Buche de Noel......

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Wed, 05 Dec 2012 00:35:00 +0000

Let me clarify; I want a Buche de Noel that will make me swoon and ache with longing for that first bite of soft chocolaty genoise, the mocha mousse filling and the transcendent buttercream! Forget those dried up nasty things they try to pass off to poor unsuspecting fools. Every year I hope to find one with a hint of that promise, or at least one I can get a little excited about. If I find a bakery that makes the Buche, I question their process (yes, I am THAT person). You see, I can tell by the ingredients whether it will pass muster or not. I simply cant be bothered with a substandard Buche. I know its a Buche bust if it has any sort of cream cheese in it. No sireee, a true Buche uses only the best mocha whipped cream in the center and a luscious R E A L butter cream on the outside, combed ever so slightly to resemble a tree limb. I have seen all sorts of takes on the Buche as illustrated in the pictures but I am a purest, only a traditional Buche will do!

It all started about 15 years ago when my book club, "The Book... What Book?... Book Club" went on a holiday open house shopping tour of several cute trendy shops on Knox Henderson in Dallas. All the shops were festooned in their Christmas finery and most had nibbles, wine, wassail or cider for us weary shoppers. It was such a fun time. One place, of course I dont remember the name, had the most incredible Buche de Noel. It was my first Buche! Not only was it perfectly wonderful to look at, there are no words to describe how moist the cake was or how rich the buttercream frosting. On the perfectly combed exterior there were holly leaves as well as the occasional prerequisite meringue mushroom. It was lovely AND tasted divine; a rare combination on the Buche scene today.

I have begun making my annual calls to the same bakeries; the ones that make really good cakes, just to see if they might have broaden their horizons but so far, no luck. What I dont understand is that Dairy Queen makes an ice cream cake version for cryin out loud, but just try to find a good bakery that puts forth the effort. I refuse to order one from one of the many holiday catalogues that jam our mailbox. I saw where William Sonoma has one for $110! Can you imagine? How good can a cake be that has traveled across the country? If I were to pay $110 for a cake it better be able to make coffee and serve itself!

Perusing the internet I located several recipes that seem easy enough. I might just be forced to make it myself. Sometimes its really hard being me........

Lordy Lordy am I Ever Thankful

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Mon, 26 Nov 2012 00:56:00 +0000

Ah, Thanksgiving is over and now we march our expanded girths on toward Christmas. I declare its become a race to see who can spend the most money the quickest! Personally, I prefer to shop right here in my jammies, in the library, online. That way Im not bombarded by grumpy sales clerks and rabid shoppers jostling for position, coughing, sneezing and worse.

This Thanksgiving I found myself being more thankful than usual. Thankful that the explosion at Reagan's work didn't kill him and he only suffered from debris in his eyes and emotional trauma. And of course I am always thankful for my small but nonetheless incredible and supportive family and so many sweet wonderful friends, but this year I am thankful for the less obvious things, too.

Like, Im thankful that Gary makes me laugh every time he is home, which is just twice a month. We try and pack a lot of fun into those two weekends though. Im always happy to be reminded that he is possibly even more of an animal and dessert lover than I am. Why, his love of sugar positively leaves me in awe. And Im very thankful neither of us care to prance around nekkid. If we did, Im thinking we would need to move from conservative Texas to a more liberal-minded place.

It has recently come to my attention that you can run around stark nekkid in San Francisco, Montpelier, Vermont and in Ashland, Oregon, too. I happened to see a news story about San Francisco where they showed several men casually strolling down the street, appearing to window shop, buck nekkid. No women were doing this, as far as I could tell, only men. Hmmmmmmm

I am currently reading a book written by Sandra Bullock's sister, Gesine. She is a lawyer turned pastry chef who used to have a confectionary in Montpelier. In the book she mentions the nekkid men she sometimes ran into on the street, figuratively speaking of course. The thought occurred to me that perhaps this contributed to her decision to sell the confectionary after a few short years. I hafta say that would have a negative impact on me for sure, but she had lived in LA for a good long while, so you might think she would be accustomed to random odd behavior. Again, there never seem to be any women doing this; not on the news or mentioned in the book. Why, it would unnerve me to no end to be walking around the McKinney Square and see nekkid men just hanging out. We have a darling little coffee shop, Snug On The Square where regular clothes wearing people gather. Occasionally there are book signings, folks playing guitars and singing and I just cant imagine how disruptive it would be to have something like that jiggling in for a cup of coffee.

I hafta say just knowing this is legal and is actually happening piqued my curiosity. Suddenly my mind is reeling and Im wondering what in the world could have happened in these people's past to make them want to inflict their nekkidness on those Innocent folks out trying to have an enjoyable day. If its freedom of expression they are after, why cant they just paint a picture or wear a goofy hat? Oh well, Im just thankful it doesn't run in my family!

Ho Ho Say it Ain't So

noreply@blogger.com (karenlthomason) — Sun, 18 Nov 2012 22:06:00 +0000

I know there are billions of folks out there mourning the loss of a dear friend this week and wondering just how we will face the future without the comfort of a Twinkie, Ding Dong or Ho Ho.

My love affair with Hostess began with Snowballs then gradually moved to on to a brief encounter with chocolate cupcakes and finally to the ever lustrous Ding Dong, where I stayed true to the end. Like a Magpie, I was immediately drawn to its shiny exterior. Biting into chocolate cake and then into the fluffy filling would transport me to another world. One where everyone was happily singing and dancing down a candy coated sidewalk.

See, It all started when we were kids. Sister and I were pretty much raised on condiments, putt pies (pot pies) and Hostess products until the magical day when she could start taking Home Ec. in school. Mother, (bless her heart) wasn't exactly the Suzie Homemaker type so we basically had to fend for ourselves, especially where breakfast was concerned. Often times on the way to school we would stop at the 7-11 and get a package of whatever. Since I was a pink girly girl, Snowballs were my breakfast of champions; with the added bonus for entertainment value, Snowballs were just the ticket! I wasn't a sun-uva-bitch about the coconut on the spongy marshmallow jacket but if you turned it inside out, rolled it up and popped it in your mouth, you hardly noticed it. My mouth would be filled with pink marshmallow goodness! Why, I ate so many of those darn snowballs, I began to resemble one!

My taste became a tad more sophisticated in my teenage years when I became a Ding Dong convert. More often than not you could find a box of them squirrelled away under the bed or in the closet, for those times when nothing else could soothe my achy breaky heart. Ding Dongs never let me down!

Even though its been years since one of those glistening cream filled hockey pucks crossed my lips, there was comfort in knowing they were as near as the neighborhood Walmart. A Little Debbie might do in a pinch but its like comparing apples and oranges. And who wants an apple or an orange when one is jonseing for a Twinkie?

I am a firm believer that Hostess will rise from the ashes but in the mean time we might very well start seeing 12-Step Hostess programs springing up or perhaps there will be an Hostess altar on aisle 10 where we can light a candle.