tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47948413933689543042022-06-10T18:46:44.730-04:00Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.comBlogger203125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-18964682607218948482020-10-15T22:55:00.006-04:002020-10-15T23:19:37.906-04:00

Just so you know, grasshoppers don't get COVID. But, they do attend lots of wanky webinars, digital dances and electronic executions. As, I'm sure, most of you do as well. After all of these months in seclusion, things couldn't help but get a little wonkier around here. In case you didn't know, I have a goat. His name is Abu. That's him right there. He isn't too purdy but he's got lots of

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-12289062113535912852020-10-15T19:14:00.005-04:002020-10-15T21:58:14.562-04:00

Hide the children.Handcuff the men.Lock up the dogs.Feed the possums.Grab an egg out of a chicken's butt. I'm back!!!!!!!

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-62998955860916304952016-06-01T23:15:00.005-04:002018-05-12T01:15:00.512-04:00

Some things perplex The Grasshopper. For instance, why do grown ass people continue to throw other people under the proverbial bus? It never ceases to amaze me. I'm a grown woman. You know what that means? It means that I have bigger balls than a good number of men. I means that I own up to my mistakes. Truth. I'll claim it as mine, put my name on the birth certificate and pony up the mistake

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-44300568261874772422015-12-05T13:43:00.001-05:002015-12-11T15:58:15.809-05:00

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-62774638990645487352015-01-08T19:16:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:15:41.713-04:00

I recently had a total hysterectomy. As with most things, I think life is incomplete if you can't put a soundtrack with it. So, pardon the lyrical interventions here. Don't tell me "I don't wanna be a girl like that" Do you wanna see a grown man cry? You don't wanna be a girl like that Baby this could be the first time  Before the procedure, the doctor let me know how the procedure was going to

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-91263034129948429262015-01-03T19:18:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:16:07.666-04:00

What is love? Poets spend their lives languishing over lines of prose trying to capture the essence of love. Lovers attempt to describe it but often flail about terms you usually hear in love songs. Song writers twist it, rhyme it and set it to the beat. It has been only recently that the Grasshopper has made a revelation. Another Stephiphany on the Highway to Hell. Love is about soul. A

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-11896960402902099652015-01-03T12:32:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:16:31.933-04:00

A friend and I discussed love letters tonight. As you can imagine, if I put my mind to it, I could fashion quite the letter -- lustful, loving, lavishing and languid -- depending upon my mood at the moment. I don't do it very often. Why? Well, simply because it doesn't seem that men take to prose as well as women do, or, if they do, they tend to hide their enjoyment very well. It is also a

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-29510972283323751652014-05-28T20:18:00.000-04:002018-05-12T01:17:52.715-04:00

Little Me went on a grasshopper hunting expedition this afternoon. For real grasshoppers. We've got what is left of the original gaggle he collected in a small fish bowl in the middle of our living room -- right next to the caterpillar cocoon he's so intent on giving birth. The cocoon is currently hanging out in half of a plastic Easter egg. "You know, I take personal offense to capturing

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-2733385153784697212014-02-07T14:51:00.001-05:002018-05-12T01:19:07.231-04:00

My therapist recently made an astute observation. "You should be dating men who are on the same income level you are and intelligence level." Among my crazies is the occasional time when someone says something or I see something and a suddenly a song pops into my head. "You'd better get back Honky Cat" screeched though my head. Cause, you know, dating these days is like trying to get liquor

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-87450244542592599742014-01-02T13:48:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:19:44.014-04:00

They say that what you're doing on the first day of the new year is what you will be doing all year long. If that is the case, I want to go back to 2013. There's dreary rain here in Georgia today. It perfectly matches my mood. Tearful, bleak, broken and tired. Not really a good way to welcome the new year. I don't deal well with heartbreak. Whether it's the loss of a friendship or a

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-73416328326026555802013-11-23T15:15:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:20:34.904-04:00

I don't care how much you want a baby or how much you plan, getting pregnant is always a bit of a surprise. With Little You, I was in total shock. Married just a few months, a positive pregnancy test wasn't exactly what I was expecting. For some reason, this unwise 20-something was convinced she couldn't get pregnant. I could and I did. I was overwhelmed. Not long after, the morning sickness

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-91504388230560761352013-11-15T09:16:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:21:24.177-04:00

Recently, a friend on Facebook posted one of those cutesy saying pictures. "Have you ever wished you could unknow someone?", it asked. Generally speaking, I'd say no. Like all of you, I've had people who've hurt me. People who have abused my friendship and kindness. People who have left me questioning the sanity of believing that there really is good in each and every person if you look hard

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-76548072017216266852013-11-13T12:38:00.000-05:002018-05-12T01:25:34.514-04:00

Getting old is inevitable. Or, at least you hope it is. It's better to get old than to not live long enough to get old. I'm kind of looking forward to it. Since it's coming one day, which is a day that is getting closer each and every day, I've decided that I'm going to look at the perks of old age. Kind of the "if you can't beat them, join them" approach to wrinkles, saggy boobs and pooping

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-37372459118024087752013-11-05T20:30:00.002-05:002018-05-12T01:25:08.745-04:00

Today, I sat and thought about some of the overwhelming issues that have been impacting my little family as of late. Seems that just as we have our plates and utensils ready to attack the stress buffet, another dish is added. My current diet consists of Zofran in the morning, phenergan at night and Zantac for the heartburn. And, of course, Skittles for dessert since they taste the same going down

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-55797892202583056402013-09-03T19:41:00.001-04:002018-05-12T01:24:20.156-04:00

It's an ugly truth. Many women find it hard to be happy for other women. Be it jealously over relationships, work stature, money, cars, clothing, (you name it), the adult bully is alive and well in our culture. We commonly call these women "bitches." They will vilify your successes. They will celebrate your failures. They will do nothing to improve themselves. They will believe that they

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-12072392353127423682013-09-02T15:10:00.002-04:002018-05-12T01:23:24.595-04:00

I've blown my nose at least 20 times today and I'm convinced there's still some pieces of tire tread still in there. I didn't want to go. I dreaded it all week. The crowds. The heat. The late night. The noise. The stairs. But, yet, I went. There are things that intimidate me as a single mom. Like sending my little boy into a public restroom with two exits that I can't see at the same

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-9344957995568600412013-08-23T20:59:00.000-04:002018-05-12T01:22:47.015-04:00

I'm single. I've been single for a long time. My divorcetant debut was in 2008. And, it's been an interesting road. When I hit 40, it occurred to me that The Grandaddy was probably right. "You're the kind of person who is meant to be alone," he said one day a few years earlier. Yeah. It kinda stung. But I have to admit the old guy had a good point. It won't be long and I'll be divorced as long

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-1391464387621029922013-08-21T19:03:00.000-04:002013-08-23T21:10:46.124-04:00

My youngest is eight. Eight years old and he's suddenly interested in relationships. Maybe it's because his sister has a new flame. Or, maybe it's because he does. "Are you happy in your relationship," he casually asked his sister tonight. At 14, it either takes very little or a helluva lot to make her happy. But, fortunately for all of us, she said that she indeed was very happy. The

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-72855120600298044582013-06-04T19:32:00.002-04:002013-06-04T19:36:01.593-04:00

Redneck women are like scratch off lottery cards. You never really know what you've got until you scratch everything off the surface. And, as you might suppose, plenty of times you're not exactly hitting the jackpot with the numbers you've rubbed off. There's a simple fact in life. Redneck women can and will hide their redneckedness deep beneath layers of peroxide, electronic tans and long,

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-61480129805425752162013-04-23T22:12:00.003-04:002013-04-23T22:13:28.947-04:00

Little Me is only seven years old. Now, one would think that would be too tender of an age for his old adoring Momma to picking out what she wants to buy him when he gets married. One would be wrong. I'm going to buy him a big, comfy couch. I may even spring for a sleeper sofa. Why? While on the way to a doctor's appointment this morning, Little Me gazed at the miles of standstill traffic

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-10101771067125255142013-03-19T18:50:00.001-04:002013-03-19T18:59:03.025-04:00

We've all had them. Those gut-wrenching sucker punches life sends us from out of nowhere. It's weird. You can be going about a normal day and then someone tells you something or perhaps you find something that sends your brain in a tailspin. I got one of those recently. A doubling sucker punch from right out of wrong field. With it, comes an internal struggle. It's something I've discussed

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-5533743192751618442013-02-24T23:44:00.000-05:002013-02-24T00:54:23.737-05:00

Sometimes, as the head bitch in charge, moms/wives may feel a little undervalued, overlooked or taken for granted. You shouldn't. I offer these thoughts as reminders as just how important you really are: Forget about whether it should hang over the top or from the bottom. Without you, there wouldn't be any toilet paper on the holder. Actually, there might not be any at all. You're the one who

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-68422943840475553882012-10-01T16:12:00.000-04:002012-10-01T18:26:31.893-04:00

There's nothing quite like laughing with your kids. The only thing that may be better is laughing at your kids. Because, let's be honest here, as a parent it is quite amusing, down right pee in your pants funny sometimes what your kids do. It's our restitution for all of the gum on the couch, pee on the toilet seat and hidden candy bar wrappers under the couch. When we arrive home from

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-50071180201130020512012-07-15T13:06:00.000-04:002012-07-15T14:31:00.398-04:00

It's been a struggle. For nearly five years, the kids and I have been homeless. This isn't to be confused with houseless. We've had roofs over our heads during that time. First, a year in a spare bedroom at my sister's. Then, a leased home in a classy neighborhood. Until, that is, our landlord fell into foreclosure and we were forced out. Which is how we landed in our last neighborhood,

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4794841393368954304.post-27995973624370074982012-06-09T09:00:00.000-04:002014-05-28T19:29:17.634-04:00

Come On... Giggle With Me! I know that all of us have our little weird quirks. It appears that most folks I know get more as they grow older. I also know that all of us have embarrassing moments. Moments where we desperately wish for a rewind button. Moments that, after they are over, we fervently try to erase them from our minds. One of my quirks is is that I can't use the bathroom if

Giggling Grasshopperhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06832395212630407610noreply@blogger.com5