STRAIGHT UP - NO CHASER

Joyful

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Mon, 21 Dec 2009 12:08:41 PST

This is what those without children do in the snow.

Thundersnow on it's way!

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 13:01:04 PST

Nor'easter is on it's way.

Everyone is in a panic due to the snow, wind and cold that is on it's way tonight.

They can't decide if it's 12" or 24" by Saturday night.

The news is showing everyone running to the grocery store for milk, toilet paper and bread.

I guess everyone thinks they'll have the shits, and make a prison meal of bread and milk.

I am running to the liquor store......I have much better priorities.

In the Wood Chipper

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 06:01:24 PST

The other day I had a friend tell me that marriage is hard, or so very hard to be exact.
She felt that sometimes it’s so much work that she would rather give her two weeks notice. That made me laugh.

I’ve been married twice. The first time way too young at 23. I married my high school sweetheart and as my parents tried to tell me I was too damn young. At age 27 we didn’t want the same things in life in any given department. I didn’t want to be friends with my girlfriend any longer and he sure as hell did! (wink, wink).

By the time I married the 2nd time my career was going somewhere. I knew what I wanted, what I didn’t want. I didn’t need someone in my life for monetary reasons or any other reason for that matter but wanted someone in my life to share my life.
Big difference and it’s too bad most of us don’t get that sooner than later.

But I have never found marriage hard. Ever….even the first time believe it or not.
If it’s that hard then maybe the wrong decision was made.

Hard to me is going to work.
Working with people who don’t share the same anything as you.
Having to be politically correct for 8 hours a day when your head could explode.
Having to pretend you give a shit for your co-workers 5th baby and having to endure all those pictures.
Playing the political work games.
Listening to your boss pontificate pure and utter bullshit while you have to nod your head as though you agree and smile.
Pretending can be so tiresome and stressful.
That is hard and difficult and makes life a pain in the ass.
But you do what has to be done because you need that job/money and human resources frown on you when you bitch slap your co-workers.

You don’t have to do that in marriage. If this is a true partner you can say what you want, feel, and you don’t have to pretend. Marriage is that soft place you fall.
So if marriage is that hard for you that you can’t make it work then maybe you should think about what you can make work for you and what would make you happy.

Besides everyone thinks a good marriage is always going to be a lusty romance novel.
Please. It’s about love, respect and friendship but saying that isn’t as romantic to most women. But there is something to be said for your partner rocking the baby to sleep or staying up with your child when they are sick. Why isn’t that romantic in it’s way as well?
This man/woman is in the trenches with you. To me that is romantic however unglamorous it is. They are choosing to be there and build this life with you.

The friend above who started me thinking on this is correct in some way.
I have always felt that the she and her husband are nice people- separately, but together they don’t work. I am sure that makes it hard. They are fundamentally 2 complete opposite people. And I don’t mean in the little things like he’s a camper / outdoorsy guy and she likes hotels and inside.
Nope I mean morally they are polar opposites.
I mean red state, blue state.
I mean Wal-Mart and Nordstrom.
I mean kids and no kids.
I mean women’s rights and women should shut up and stay in the kitchen or blow me.

I know she married because she didn’t want to have to work outside the home and she thought having kids she could avoid that. And she really really wanted kids. He did not.
She had no qualms in telling me that 22 years ago. There was heat with the 2 of them.
A lot of physical heat but we all know that will die and then what are you left with? Exactly!

He told me a week before their wedding that he felt like he was being trapped.
Now what the hell was I to do with that information? I remember that moment as clear as day. I even remember what I was wearing. (black shorts and salmon color Newport Beach T-shirt)

Honestly, my first thought about his comment was, Okay buddy where the hell are your balls if you feel trapped? Say something to the woman you are about to marry that you really don’t want to get married, don’t tell me about it you big pansy ass.

I always felt he told me so that I would say something to her.
I guess looking back I should have.....I don't know.
I do know that today I would say something but back then I was conflicted.

So now they are both in this “difficult” marriage and have children.
They are both miserable and will tell everyone that they are.
(It’s so much fun to be at their home while they berate each other and say mean things to one another.)

This guy won’t go to counseling either. To me that is a big red flag. To me that states that you don’t think enough of this union or your wife to try to save this any way you can when she asked to go to counseling. To me it says I don’t give a shit enough to try to make this work. That speaks volumes don’t you think? So I guess they are both at fault here. She needs to stay for the money and for what she thinks it does for the children and he stays so he doesn’t lose stuff.

So this holiday season I am thankful I have a wonderful partner.
That I am not married to this man or Tiger Woods.

I don’t find being married to my Big Guy difficult. Oh sure he can make me angrier than any human on the face of the earth – it isn’t all baby’s breath and rainbows all the time. But I love him. I respect him. I am still smitten. I can tell him anything and we can fight it out and go the distance. I know he always has my best interest at heart. He shows me he loves me every day.

Besides, if not I have Italian relatives who know what to do with the body.

End of the week things I'm thinking about

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Fri, 11 Dec 2009 08:36:55 PST

I woke up today to 19 degrees and the dog needing to go out.

Normally my husband does morning and night duty because I have all day duty because I work from a home office.

But this morning I did the walking....shivering....begging her to hurry.

I don't have fur and I wanted back into the house! Coffee, warm coffee.

My husband is Nature Boy and is always right about the weather.

He is a country boy who moved to the big city for his corporate career.

I am a city girl who never wants to be a country girl.

23 years ago when I met him he asked me on our first date if I liked to go camping.

I laughed and said, "a hotel room without room service you mean?"

He knew then that I was a challenge for him.

Over the years I have gone camping where there was no plumbing.

I have gone camping with plumbing. I don't much like either.

I admit I always have a wonderful time but I would prefer the Heavenly Bed at the Westin.

(or equivalant)

He likes to fish - it's his zen. I don't even eat fish.

He loves to be outdoors and while I do too, it's not quite the love it is for him.

I am fine indoors with air conditioning and a good book.

I prefer to be in Manhattan and he thinks it smells like pee.

He is an animal lover and me, not so much. I love Izzy but that is about it.

I don't think birds chirping in the morning are a beautiful, sound I find it annoying as hell.

I fear cats immensley and I do not like insects or rodents.

I do not think a ferret is a pet but a varmit.

So you can see how we are very different in this area.

But one thing we both loved was walking on the nature trails at the Peninsula that is formally known as Presque Isle State Park in Erie PA. It was gorgeous all 4 seasons. It juted out into lake Erie and it was the only thing aside from the food you will ever hear me rave about my hometown. Freezing outside today reminded me of my hometown.

The Peninsula had beautiful walking trails along the bay side to view the "city" and the action on the bay.

The lake side walking paths rolled into the beaches and those walks on the sand were gorgeous all times of the year with great sunsets.

But it was another world into the woods and by the lagoons. Just beautiful.

Rick was tickled pink that I loved this area all times of the year. I especially loved cross country skiing in this area because of the beauty. See I am not completely a cold hearted person.

I would see deer, fox and all kinds of fun animals and I loved it mostly in winter.

I have to admit snow back there in my hometown never ever bothered me. It was expected.

But here I can't take it. Is it because I am older? Or is it that it's not suppose to be like this here?

I even love snow blowing when I go home to visit. Yep, that's chubby ole me snow blowing my parent's driveway 2 yrs ago. I loved it! Sure I had on 2 coats, a hat, scarf and boots but I love, truly love snow blowing. It may be an illness I believe.

Every early fall as we walked the trails he would tell me what that coming winter would be like. It always made me laugh. As I mentioned earlier this week he would tell me that nature has a way of telling you if you pay attention. Damn if he wasn't always right as he was this year.

"Do you see all the nuts that have fallen from the trees?"

"Yeah what does that mean Critter Boy?"

"It means we are going to have a colder winter and/or snowier winter as well. T

he animals are getting all this food for the winter. Nature never lies"

I laughed and said, "we'll see"

Damn it he was right....again.

In the summer and spring he would love to go out into the lagoons or on the bay to fish.

I don't know why fishing must be done at the ungodly hours in the morning. I hate mornings and I hate fishing. But being the ever loving girlfriend at the time I would go because he would ask me. For some reason he enjoyed having me along. I admit I loved sitting on the boat and getting sun but I just prefer it during normal waking hours.

At 4:30 am he would wake me with the promise of a gorgeous morning on the lake. He would bribe me with a promise of a stop at Mickey D's for an egg mcmuffin and bloody mary's. No our McDonalds didn't serve them but he would make a pitcher of them for me. I would drag my ass out of bed muttering quiet obscenities at him. He would have everything packed including the canoe on the top of the vehicle.

You couldn't take a boat with a certain size motor into the lagoons. So we took the canoe.

He took the seats out of his canoe and put in removeable boat seats that swiveled.

He would have his in the back and he would take mine out and put in a reclining lawn chair.

Yes, he spoiled me rotten to get me to go with him.

One warm summer morning I had eaten my breakfast and was well into my 2nd bloody mary when I decided that my bathing suit top had to come down.

The "Girls" needed some sun and to be free and unencumbered.

It was 6:00am. No one but critters were around. I told Rick that the "girls" were out so when people were starting to populate the area please wake me up.

I lathered myself with sunscreen and dozed right off in the glorious warm sun.

I awake to clicking sounds. I open my eyes ever so slightly and see a pontoon type boat that tours the lagoons with a boat full of Japanese tourists clicking their cameras at me.

I let out a scream and pulled up my top.

What they hell are you screaming about up there Margaret?

Richard there are tourists over there for God's sake.

Yea well they aren't going to hurt you, jeez there is no reason to scream.

Numb nuts, I had my top down remember? You were supposed to wake me when people were coming around.

Oh yea. he says while laughing his ass off.

Hey Margaret, people are here - better cover up the girls.

Funny Nature Boy.

Lovely Bones

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 10 Dec 2009 13:39:34 PST

I have said here before that one of my favorite haunting books was Lovely Bones written by Alice Sebold.

This book just grabbed me. I don't know if it was because of the era in which it was written and so vividly explained. I don't know if it was because the lead in the book was the same age as me during that year that this all took place. I don't know if it was just because of the emotions it stirred or it was just the right book at that particular time I picked it up.

I remember buying the audio book so that my husband could experience this book on a car trip we were taking. The person reading the book was so awful that neither of us could listen to it. To this day we copy the inflection or lack of and laugh. The person had no inflection it was as if she didn't really know American English and was just reading words that were strung together without emotion. It was so bad.

But I remember telling my husband that it would make a great movie. I have NEVER said that ever about a book. If it's a book I say, leave it the hell alone. I hate all movies from the books I have read. But this one I was interested in seeing. Then I heard they were making a movie of this. While a bit scared of how they would screw this up I was also very excited because it was so visual as a read. If that makes sense to you.

I just read a review in USA Today that said, "It can't have been easy to adapt because of its reliance on the musings of a dead, omniscient narrator. But a device that works on the page comes off artificial and emotionless on-screen.
The movie strikes clashing tones, veering from lightheartedness to heavy-handedness."
AND.... But the scenes that take place in an alternate universe — a way station between heaven and Earth — are jarring. Depicting heaven has long stymied directors, and Jackson's cheesy computer-generated world breaks no ground.

Ouch. That was some of the nicer things said in the review.
So I guess I won't see it. The description of where this young girl went (alternate universe) after she was murdered was so interesting. It appeared different to everyone to be what they thought it should be or what made them happiest. Told from this young girls perscpective, her young voice.

It was so emotional and moving. I just loved the book. So it looks like you need to skip the movie and go right to Amazon.com or the library and get the book. I really think you would enjoy it. Let me know if you do read it and what you think.

I read Bridges of Madison County years ago in one snowy cold Saturday afternoon. It was a very thin quick read. Then the movie came out and they told us who was cast. I was livid. Meryl Streep couldn't have farther from Francesca. She was described as olive skin, dark flowing hair with big dark eyes. She came to America from Italy to marry an American soldier.
They spoke of her being voluptous. MERYL STREEP??????

I know everyone says she is our best actress but c'mon.
I vowed not to see the movie on principal.
All my girlfriends were going and asked me to go along. I said NO I read the book.
I mean it was bad enough that Clint Eastwood who places Clint Eastwood in every movie was the man she was to fall in love with. I was screaming NOoooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!

I avoided this movie like the plague and it wasn't easy with my friends.
I was on a business trip across the country. They were showing a movie.
The movie was BRIDGES OF MADISON COUNTY.
I had to laugh at that. I did not put on my headphones because damn it I didn't want to see it.

Well that lasted about 20 minutes. I put the headphones on and really flipped my Italian America lid. Honest to God Meryl Streeps accent was horrendous. She was not beautiful, but homely. She was not olive skinned with flowing dark hair. Sure she was a frustrated potato farmers wife and that is where the character similarity ended.
I must admit that Clint Eastwood impressed me in the role and I admit I was wrong about him. But Meryl? No! She sucked at this role and I do not know what country that accent was from but none of my relatives spoke like that. (and they are from all parts of Italy)

When the damn movie was over I asked the woman next to me who was crying if she liked it. She loved it. She never read the book. She said she always wanted to read the book though.

So there ya go. Without the descriptive pictures painted of characters and surroundings you get a flat picture with piss poor accents and no one is the wiser. I am sure if I had never read the book Meryl may have seemed like a good Francesa but in my minds eye she looked more like Valeria Golino (rain man) or at the worst even the Spanish Paz Vega or the Mexican Selma Hyack.

So now you can see why I never see the movies of the books I read.
And it looks like Lovely Bones will forever be just a good book for me.

Man's Manuel

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Tue, 08 Dec 2009 12:47:07 PST

My husband has declared that he is going to write a Man's Manual.
He said that it is well known what happens to women as they age but no one talks about what happens to a man.

A few years ago my husband went to bed fine. In the morning he couldn't walk.
I hear a THUD on the floor and realize he has just fallen. I, being the ever thoughtful wife, do not want to get out of this warm bed at 5:30am so I ask, "are you okay?" Knowing full well if one has just fallen to the floor chances are slight that you are alright.

He had ripped something behind his knee cap that only staying off of it would repair.
So as he likes to say he has entered, "I go to bed fine and wake up with a sports energy" phase of my life.

Then the dreaded grey hair - oh no, not on his little noggin but DOWN there on the twins.
I laughed but man he was taken this badly. Then pluck it out I say. OH NO, it would hurt the fella's. Jeez. This is why women have the babies!

Then the fella's fell. Now for some reason that made me laugh. But as he explained to me he knew my breasts would fall - everyone knows a woman's breasts will fall. How come no one told him about his nuts falling? I didn't have a good retort for that one.
Then he says - out of nowhere I might add - "You know how it takes your Uncle Bob so long to sit down? This is why damn it. He doesn't want to sit on his balls!"
I know, I should be more sympathetic but c'mon that's funny.

Then all of a sudden this year everything is happening to him. He gets up in the middle of the night to pee. He is very tired. Full body fatigue. He tells me a few weeks ago over a glass of wine that he feels like he is getting weaker. Ok to be honest with you I am thinking he is having some ego issues about getting older. But I listen. He tells me how poorly he is sleeping, which of course I knew because I am the same way. He is really concerned as he talks about all this stuff. And I admit that is what is frightening me a bit. He is truly feeling like shit. So I think that this may be a good time to bring up his crankiness. Which I might add he isn't adding cranky onto his list of symptoms he is now sharing.

You see my husband is always happy, smiling, warm and non judgemental. He is kind and always going that extra to help everyone. Suddenly I have noticed that he is perpetually pissed off. He is cranky as all hell. He is yelling at people driving. He is literally yelling at them, honking his horn. This is so out of character. He is snapping at me, which he never does. Snapping for everything and anything. He is even losing patience with the dog.

One day I asked if it felt like every nerve was at the surface and he turned and looked at me with wide eyes like I knew! I was thinking PMS. He seemed to be in it all the time now. I didn't like this new man.....and he didn't either.
So I mentioned that his mood has been difficult for me and I am sure it was even more difficult for him. (whew, he didn't get angry) I asked if he would go to see a doctor. He said, "oh we don't have the money right now and I'm sure it's just the stress of the business....yada yada yada."

I didn't press it but I listened to all the symptoms. Then on Monday morning I called a doctor for him. I thought sending him to a doctor was cheaper than a divorce from the ole Mr. Cranky Pants. I made the appointment, did not tell him, filled out a work order like it was job.
The following week he had a doctors appointment.

He picked up his work orders from my desk for that day and looked at the 2nd one.
He shows it to me and says, "What is this?"
I state that it is a doctors appointment instead of a 2nd job.
"Why I'm fine?"
"No you are not fine. Please do this for me as a Xmas present if for no other reason."
He didn’t really argue, just a little fussing I think for show. So I knew he knew deep down something was truly amiss. And I knew I did the right thing.

Well the verdict was Male Menopause.
I thought that was a joke where my husband bought a sportscar and traded me in for a 25 yr old blonde. But apparently no joke. This is just like a woman's.
Funny thing was the very day he came home from the doctors with all this information and hormones we saw it on our local ABC 7 evening news.

Truth be told I was quite ignorant to this whole male menopause thinking it was a sexual thing.
You know all those viagra and cialis commercials.
I knew he didn't need help there so then what exactly is male menopause?
I really thought something else was wrong and I was frightened. But hell I can handle menopause as long as he isn't getting a new young blonde.

So he rubs his testosterone gel on his belly every morning and he is so much better!!
It took about 3-4 weeks.
He’s back to normal and that makes the old man happy! And his wife.
He no longer feels week, he has more stamina and he is sleeping just a bit better.
Sleeping is still a bit of an issue that they say will continue to get better.

So why don't they tell us this? I take bio-identical hormones for this crap it's not a big deal.
Why don't men know they are not crazy but that they deplete their hormones just like us and need a little help to feel better.

I was telling my step mom how much better he feels, looks and behaves. She said that my Dad had all of those symptoms years ago but the doctor just told my father he was getting older.
So maybe doctors are just now realizing that men need to check their hormone levels too?

Look it's not very often I feel badly for (white) men. But I actually do here.
I knew this was in my future. He had no idea to the extent it would be for himself.
His father didn't know. His friends don't know. So it's amazing how just a little tube of testosterone gel rubbed on your abdomen can make your life so much better.

So my Big Guy is all better and it was nothing terminal or scary after all.
He's big and strong like bull.....and so is his bruised ego.
He is right though, this is one area that we women get a little more attention and information.
But I don't think we need to hold a telethon for the guys just yet.

Snow

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 08:45:56 PST

It snowed this Saturday.
We got about 5 inches of heavy wet snow.
It was beautiful but......

The dog didn't know what to make of it.
Then after a few timid steps she loved it and began to jump around in the white stuff.

Then by Sunday she was not having any more of this stuff and we felt the same.
She was confused on where to poo. So she held it. We walked and walked and even took her into her favorite wooded area thinking that might help her to go. Noooo.
Saturday and Sunday were tough on the old gal's potty issues. She was a miserable diva on Sunday until she finally figured she would just have to do it in snow. After 2 days of refusing to go in the snow she was most relieved when she finally succumbed to squatting in the cold white stuff to do her business.
I wish I had had my camera because the look on this dogs face was priceless!
After that exhausting effort she needed to nap for 4 hours.

My husband kept telling me that this winter was going to be colder and snowier because of all the acorns and other such things he notices in nature. He always is telling me nature let's us know.

Well I would like to tell nature this.....we now have surpassed the total snow fall of last year.
We can be done now.

A Must Read

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 05:46:59 PST

My former boss and friend, who I have spoken of here before, has written down his story of his experience during the Mumbai Attacks.

I adore this man as a boss and as a human being. He is smart, kind, young and funny.
While reading this it is hard to imagine coming through this and one does tend to think, what would I do in this situation? I know I thought that any ways. It is moving.

Please have a read. Tell me what you think. (A quick backstory note is he is from Ireland originally)

http://www.bruce-hanna.com/Taj.html

Questionaire

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 12:11:10 PST

I was watching a rerun of Bravo’s Inside the Actors Studio. (with Bon Jovi)
As you may or may not know James Lipton asks everyone the same 10 questions at the end of the interview. I find their answers interesting.
So I thought I would put the questions out there for you to answer. First thing that pops into your mind. C'mon give it a shot.

1. What is your favorite word?
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

2. What is your least favorite word?
racism

3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
(Other than hubby) Books

4. What turns you off?
People who are small/close minded

5. What is your favorite curse word?
Fuck because of the versatility to use it as a noun, verb, adjective etc.

6. What sound or noise do you love?
Ooh there are 3.
A baby laughing, my husband’s voice and a wooden bat hitting a ball.

7. What sound or noise do you hate?
Crows in the morning!

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?
Singer

9. What profession would you not like to do?
politics

10. If heaven exists what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates.
C’mon in and join the party- eat and drink all you like and never gain weight!

Bah-Humbug

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 05:19:44 PST

I’ll start with the following: I know this will bring me the nasty comments – so be it,bring ‘em on.

I don’t like Christmas.

I have said it here before, it’s not my favorite holiday.
I suppose if I had little ones it all would be a bit different.
You see the excitement and joy in their faces and it can make everything happy.
But I don’t.

To me there is no excitement for this holiday in my house.

It started to get bad for me as an adult when it was no longer fun just pressure to buy and spend and have everything done a certain way and in a timely manner that pleases everyone else.
Each year I dreaded it more and more. Work was stressful at this time of year with contract deadlines that had to be met. Year end numbers that had to be met. Work travel at this time of year is pure hell. The deadlines, the winter weather delays in airports, the crowds.

I remember one year packing Christmas cards in my suitcase thinking I may get time to write out the cards in my hotel rooms so that they would arrive on time.
I never got to them, each and every night was work on a lap top or on the phone until I feel asleep at the hotel desk or lying across my bed.
The damn cards went to NYC, Chicago, Minneapolis and back home again – never having been finished in time to send so that they would arrive on time.

There was the year end work and then adding in the shopping that must be accomplished and the house that needs to be decorated and the food that must be purchased and the meals and parties that must be made and attended. It drove me crazy. I got nothing but stress and anxiety from it all. The gifts you must buy for people you don’t like because others at work are doing this, you can’t be the only one not giving. People you don’t like, like a neighbor that you have said, “please no exchanging of gifts this year, give if you must to a charity because we don’t need anything” but they never listen and tell you, “oh come on it’s fun and you have to reciprocate” No it’s not fun, I don’t care for you and I have to buy you something and spend time with you and I am too wussy to tell you to fuck off.

I began to hate this holiday with a passion. I longed for the time when it was a fun and a beautiful holiday for me. But consumerism drove it out of me. Can't I be 12 again and go back to all the famly fun without all the stress and obligations? The visits from my extended family and the twinkling lights that I did not have to put up? The smell of all cookies that I didn't have to bake just enjoy? The pulling of the sled as the family of cousins and aunts and uncles Christmas caroled. (the adults used the sled for carrying the hot toddies as we kids took turns pulling it.)
Now those days were fun.

I’ve told the story here before about me wanting to buy a menorah to keep the damn Stepford women from bugging me about our lack of out door decorating. (holidays)
I’m thinking I may need to resort to that again.

But this year it isn’t the damn women of the neighborhood, it isn’t the consumerism, it’s just life. I feel exhausted this year. Financially it has been a very difficult year for us. Very difficult. A juggling act. Stress can make you tired. There are times when I am scared. Times I am down right thankful that I still have a roof over my head. I don’t feel like a holiday right now. I don’t give a shit if I even put up a trees or string any damn lights or put a friggin’ wreath on the door. And yes, I know that it’s not a holiday about cookies, wreaths and lights but about something bigger than all of that. Yea, yea, yea. Well I am not completely sure I am buying into all of that either right now. (let the nasty comments begin)

The only thing I am looking forward to is making the southern recipe from Paula Deen for homemade egg nog. Oh it’s killer and it really does warm your heart and make you forget your problems! Because this year that is what I really want for Christmas….to forget for a little while.

Home Made

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 06:39:17 PST

Her hands moved so quickly and that is what really fascinated me. I would kneel down on a kitchen table chair and just watch this rhythm she had. The whole event to me was like a dance. On Friday’s she made pasta’s

I only got to watch this event in the summer when there was no school. My sister always wanted to be outside. She was the tomboy who loved to get dirty and be on her bike and just play. I preferred hanging with my mom. I loved movies, music, books and just plain hanging out. Those were her things too so to me it was fun. I didn’t consciously think, Oh I want to stay inside with Mom. It just seemed like more fun to do. Oh I liked to ride my bike and explore and all the things outside that kids did back in the day when kids played outside. But if I had my druthers it would be to stay indoors and “help and hang” with mom.

I didn’t help her one bit but I so enjoyed the day of pasta making and Saturdays the day of baking. Okay I admit I did not enjoy laundry day or cleaning days. I went outside for those days. My love was food even then. Looking back on my life and family all of the memories revolve around family, food, laughing and of course liquor. I say of course but I do know most families don’t make wine in their basement.

As I climbed onto my kitchen chair perch on Friday’s I would see her make a big well of flour. Inside that well were the eggs and if there were other ingredients I don’t recall. I just remember how she tucked her thumb under her palm and used her 4 fingers in a rapid fire manner and moved some of the wall of the flour and mixed it with the egg. Left, right, forward, backward. To me this was done like magic. The wall never collapsed but slowly incorporated with the eggs. Her hand moved so quickly that you didn’t see the flour move.

I would put my elbows on the table and my chin in my hands and be completely mesmerized. I drove her crazy with questions. I remember one time she told me to just try to be quiet for awhile and watch because if I was quiet I would be able to see everything. In other words, “shut the hell up kid you are driving me nuts” But she never made me feel that way even though looking back I am sure I was bugging the hell out of her.

Once the dough was made then the flying hands with knives would begin. She had this very long wooden rolling pin. No handles just a long wooden dowel of sorts. It had to be 3 ft long. After the dough was rolled out she cut the pastas. Spaghetti style was done 1st with a regular knife and quickly. Again this would fascinate me at the speed in which she cut and how precise they were. I would have no digits left if I tried this at home!

They were all the same length and width to me. I am sure they were varying thickness but it never seemed to be. Then she would cut some that were more like Fettuccini…..my favorite. All with the same little kitchen knife and in rapid fire succession. When she was done with the spaghetti she would throw some flour over them and take her two hands and toss them like it was salad. She would then lay them out on the table with dish towels and cheese cloth over them to allow them to dry. My sister and I would love to eat them. We would always be sticking our hands under the cheese cloths and grabbing a noodle to eat as she would tell us to stop in Italian with a laugh.

Then the whole process would begin again. Now the dough was rolled out and I could help at this stage. It meant ravioli’s. She would let me take a water glass and cut out dough. She would put the filling in and I would fold it over and pinch the ends with a fork dipped in flour. I absolutely loved doing this. Looking back I wonder did I really love this because I don’t enjoy it so much anymore or did I just love doing it because my mom was doing it? I don’t really know. But as I even type this the feeling of that time comes back to me and it is warm and happy.

My favorite pasta is gnocchi. Oh I could eat those little potato dumplings until I burst. On my birthday this was my favorite meal to ask for. My husband thinks they are carp bait and that makes me laugh. I see what he means but I just love them. I have never been able to make them as light as my mom. God knows I have tried. Mine were generally heavy, like paper weight heavy, and that isn’t what they are to be like.

These pasta’s she made sat on our huge farm table in the kitchen drying until it was close to dinner time. Then they were put in the freezer or fridge. Come Sunday we had fresh pasta for dinner and then for the rest of the week. In my family pasta was a staple in soups, main course or a side dish. When I went out into the world on my own I didn’t eat it for a long time. I wanted to eat American food - you know good ole American processed foods. I remember when I discovered Velveeta at age 20. I was thrilled that you could get a brick of cheese in a box. We bought cheese from this man behind a deli counter who barely spoke English. Big hunks of cheese. I was very impressed that there was cheese in a box in a cube. So I went through a Velveeta stage that now makes me howl.

On Saturdays my sister and I had to attend CCD classes. (Catholic religious classes like Sunday school only on Saturday) We went to a public school so we had to get that Catholicism in us somehow so my father would be happy. Every Saturday when we came home we knew what our mom was doing. Baking and listening to Dean Martin records. Our father was working and our mom was in the kitchen baking so we had baked goods for the week. Dad loved sweets and because he took his lunch to work mom always had to have “goodies” in his lunch.

When Mom cut the pie crusts off the sides after filling the pie plate she would put all the pieces in a pile. When my sister and I got off the bus from CCD classes she would let us roll them out and make a cinnamon roll a piece. Not a Cinnabon type roll but a long roll. We would get them in the oven and then change our clothes from school clothes to play clothes. (do kids still do that?)
Once they came out of the oven Mom would pour us a glass of milk and we would devour our personal cinnamon rolls while still warm.

My mom made doughnuts, cookies, cakes and pies. She made these waffle like things like the funnel cake you see at the county fair and sprinkle powdered sugar over. Oh how I loved those. But they were usually saved for company or when their friends were over to play cards. They would drink, smoke and eat these funnel cakes.

My sister and I loved when they had card night. We would be in the other room watching TV in our pj’s and when they took a break the men would fire up their cigars and my mom would get the oil hot and make these. The other women would sprinkle on the powdered sugar and they would put them on the table and call the men back to eat ‘em while they were hot. My sister and I always knew that was our call to run into the kitchen.

I can’t even fathom this life. Her life was so domestic and God knows I so far from that. While I don’t eat processed food anymore now that I must eat gluten free, I still can not imagine all that baking and cooking all the time. Some weeks I just want to have a night off. My husband cooks and is much better than me. Thank Goodness!

Last week I made a plate of cheese, some meats and some great gluten free crackers. I opened a bottle of wine and we called that dinner. Thankfully there are no kids who have to have a good balanced meal here. We can be lazy. To me it was a great dinner.

My mother on the other hand would call that an appetizer.

I'm baaack

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 12:40:51 PST

I'm groggy and out of sorts today.
It's Monday.
It's Monday after a very long time off.

Going to the lake house was great.
No land line and you can turn off the cell phones.
No computer....left it at home.
But oh so difficult to get back in the rhythm of things today.

It was just the dog and us. It was wonderful.
It took us 3 hours longer to get there due to holiday traffic. I don't deal well with traffic.
I don't have a boat load of patience to begin with and add traffic and I'm bonkers.

We pulled into the driveway and I immediately saw a tree that had fallen down onto our fence and deck from our neighbors empty lot next to us . The tree broke the fence, lay across the driveway and some of the top was over the porch deck. Welcome home Margaret!

But that was nothing compared to trying to get the dog to stop wanting to go swimming.
Se was an absolute spaz.

We unpacked. We got all the food into the empty fridge. We got into our pj's and poured ourselves a glass of wine. The dog was antsy. She kept pacing. She sat by the doors onto the back deck overlooking the water. She knew where she was at. She wanted to be outside and not in the yard but in the water. She would stare out it the back door to the water. Then she began to whimper.....like Please let me swim, please let me swim. So we all went onto the deck with her. Thinking that may help. Noooooo.

The deck wraps around the whole house. We closed off the sides so she could only stay on the back deck and not get down to the water at 10pm at night. She stuck her head through the railing and stared at the water....longingly. It was so funny to me but at the same time a bit sad.
There I am in my super big & 5 inches too long PJ's next to her in the pic. (yea, I'm short!)

She wimpered awhile longer and I wished that I could reason with her but there was no reasoning with a dog.

Come morning she wanted nothing more than to swim. Rick took her down to the dock. The water was only 57 degrees. Brrr......

see that brown dot? it's the dog swimming/retrieving a stick

taken from up at the house

She did not care and swam until Rick's throwing arm couldn't take it anymore.
She swam all weekend.
She was happy as could be.

He and I on the other hand were lazy! Incredibly lazy. We drank wine, ate and watched movies.
We did PPV. We had 3 that we thought looked good - we were looking for upbeat and funny since our life hasn't been like that a lot lately. We decided to go with the 1 that was 3 stars. I really wanted to see the one that was 1 star but I realized even if my boyfriend was in it I would probably be better off with the 3 star movie. WRONG.

We watched Funny People first. Now you would think with a title like that it would be funny.
Oh no it's not. Not even good. So much for 3 stars. The next evening Rick suggested we watch the 1 star because if we hated the 3 star why not just do the opposite of what we think we should do. Okay let's give that a try. So we bought The Ugly Truth. Now I would not say this was a work of art, by any means. I wouldn't even say it was great. But it was far better than Funny People....and my boyfriend Gerard Butler was in it. C'mon that gets an extra star right there for me. We at least laughed during this movie vs. the first one.

All in all the weekend was nice. Calm. No talk of bills, business and other things that cause us stress these days. I need to find my Zen like my dog Izzy. I wish I could be that happy right now just staring at the water. When people used to tell me that they would like to come back as their dog I would laugh. Now I think I get it.

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Wed, 25 Nov 2009 04:57:16 PST

Happy Thanksgiving!

I am thankful I don't have to eat turkey!... ick!

I am thankful that I will be doing a lot of this!

and this....

I am thankful for all the blessing in my life. And I know I have many.

But if "you" could give me a smaller waist & a large lottery wind fall

I sure wouldn't complain.

Have a wonderful holiday & see you all soon.

My C.A.D

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Tue, 24 Nov 2009 08:34:36 PST

.... Crazy Ass Dog, is nuts, strange, goofy.... all of the above.
So now you have figured the right owners have her for sure huh?.

She has a thing for delivery people, especially men in shorts. It started as a pup and the UPS man would come to our home. She just would stare out the window at him and his truck. Then on her walks no matter what she was doing and I mean no matter what!.....she would stop, yep stop that too….to stare at the delivery men. I would crack up laughing. God forbid she be disturbed or distracted while it’s time to poo. She is truly a Crazy Ass Dog.

As she got older she loved sitting on my neighbors stoop. We would walk and on our way back to our house she would stop at our neighbors stoop and sit at the bottom of the last step. She would sit there all regal and just want to watch people go by. So I began to sit on the bottom step and she would sit between my legs and we would watch the world go by together for awhile.
She won’t ever sit on our stoop. I assume it’s because she doesn’t have as good a view.
Our neighbor is on the corner – Izzy can see everything from there. Even those bunnies she loves to chase on the grassy knoll across the street from this corner house.

One day as we sat there and watched the world go by the neighbors across the street had new appliances being delivered. Izzy thought she hit the jackpot because there were 3 men in shorts unloading this truck. She sat straight as could be and just stared at them. Never barked. (she rarely barks it’s odd) The guys across the street looked at her coming out of the house and they asked how old she was and other niceties. They thought it was funny that she just was staring so intently. As soon as they left she was ready to go home.

I tried to tell her to play hard to get but she is having none of that. She was sure acting easy. She will stare them down until they play with her, come over and love on her or both.

Last week on her afternoon walk the Fed Ex man pulled his truck over to the curb and parked to get in the back and rearrange boxes. He was back there for the longest time making all kinds of noises….but you couldn’t see him, you could just hear him and boxes being strewn about. She stopped dead in her tracks and had to watch him. I couldn’t get her to budge. This time she didn’t sit. She just stared. I don’t get it. She doesn’t get excited, she doesn’t bark. She only stares. What is her fascination with delivery men and trucks?
As soon as he got back up front and drove away she was ready to continue her walk.

Rick thinks it’s really me that has the hang up with men in shorts and I am using Izzy as a cover. But I don’t need no stinkin’ cover!

Blog Negativity

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 09:19:59 PST

I read a good deal of blogs. Mostly women.
Funny, poignant, warm and interesting sister friends in my blog world.

But I am beginning to notice something weird happening.

Nasy comments and too many of my blogger friends having to defend themselves.

I have read some blogs where I thought the person was full of shit.
I thought what was said was either mean or so off the mark.
But you know what?...it's their friggin' blog so they can say, write, express, whatever the hell they want to. If you don't like it - don't go back. Or better yet, ignore it. It could just be one area where you don't agree for pete's sake. Don't you have friends that disagree with you on a topic in your life?

Pretty simple concept don't you think? You don't need to reprimand them or leave negative remarks. Walk away and make an adult decision that this may not be someone you want to play with.

It's like TV, you don't like what is on this channel, then change it!
Real simple people.

I have been reading this one blog for a few years. It was well written, extremely funny and sometimes down right sad. I felt badly for this person a lot of the times. But I never left comments there because I really had nothing to say that could add to her journey. Sometimes I felt that reading her blog was like a train wreck, you know you should look away but you can't. Some days her stories would haunt me for a long time.

We all have a "feel" of someone when reading their blogs for any length of time and this young woman seemed a bit tortured, very warm, loving, incredibly honest, hurt and very loved. People would leave her such horrific & mean comments and they would hurt her deeply. It appeared she wrote to let out her story for her comfort and her growth. I would read how she would try to explain herself to them after they would talk such smack to her. Why? Let those people go or better yet don't give them a forum to spew their toxic shit.

So finally she has had it. She closed down the blog. Apparently not to everyone though if you go to her site it will either let you in or it won't. It states that if you were not redirected then she doesn't want you back and you can contact her and she will make that decision.

Now I never left her comments so I know that I wasn't rejected for being a mean one. I assume because I only read her she doesn't know I exsist. Since I have no way of reaching her I can't ask to continue reading.

But my point of all of this is that I am saddened by how it can get so ugly.
Not surprised but saddened. Especially disappointed.

We are all different. We can choose to get along or move along.
I have had to move along a lot of times. No need to get nasty. No need to change someones mind. Move along and let the toxic people all play together.

And if you wish to leave me a nasty comment - go ahead you won't be the first one. No one is going to see it anyways and besides if you're little brain needs to make someone else feel badly in order for you to feel better about yourself then go for it you little shit. I'm a big girl and can take it.

....Tee Hee

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 10:25:13 PST

T.G.I.F.

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 09:37:36 PST

Everyone is in an uproar on the "new" guideline for cervical & mammogram tests and rightly so.

The new guidelines state that you can skip a year for a pap smear. You don't need to have a mammogram until you hit 50! They may consider you before you are 50 if there is extensive family history. But you and I both know that will flag your health care provider and you'll be lucky if anything is covered!

I have a friend who is in her early 40's who had a mammogram and they found non hodgkin lymphoma. Imagine that surprise. That was earlier this year. Her mammogram saved her life because it was caught so early.

I have another friend that had her annual mammogram and she too is in her very early 40's. They found a small tumor. Thankfully she didn't need chemo but she did have to have it removed and some radiation I believe as well as a host of other protocols. Both women have had a slow and steady continued progress.....thankfully.

And didn't Fran Drescher have cervical cancer in her early 40's? It took her years to get doctors to even do the tests because she was "too young"

We, as a country do not take care of our elderly, our children and our people period.
Oh we worry about who can or can't get married and the rights of those who can own guns, we worry about telling people what they can and can't do in the privacy of their homes, who can smoke & where. But if you mention taking care of our society in any way people scream hell no.
For the life of me I don't get it. It's so short sighted.

Not allowing these test to be covered until one is old will kill a lot of young people. A lot of young mothers will die and for what good reason? Oh sure it will save insurance companies billions of dollars and isn't that what we are all about now? The corporate jet the big house and cars and trips? Making money and greed for CEO's and big insurance lobbiest and companies is the American way.

My mom died from what started as breast cancer at the age of 44. I always feared I too would have an early death. I found a lump on my breast that was new and large which came out of nowhere when I was 31 years old. I had to fight like hell to get a mammogram. The doctors wanted me to wait for a year and see if it changed. I was livid given my history. So instead of stage 1 perhaps we'll wait until you're stage 3? Is that common sense? More treatment, more money for me and my insurance to pay out?

My insurance did not cover it so I paid for it myself. I was even lectured by the man doing the mammography that I was awfully young to be having a mammogram. Honestly if it were his nuts with a newly discovered lump I would like to see how he would feel if they told him to wait a year!
I had no intention of losing my breast because of some stupid insurance adjuster sitting in a cubicle making life decisions for me given my family history.

Thankfully it was nothing. I still have that "lump" that was nothing to fret about.
I am thankful for that. When I passed age 44 I let out a sigh of relief knowing that I already have lived longer than my mom got to. Her sister died from breast cancer as well. So I get my annual squishing of the boobs every year on my birthday. This year I missed my birthday so I am going next week. I am sure I will be fine but it will be nice to know that for sure.

I hope this gets young women in a uproar because it should. Young children will be left without their moms and partners without their loved ones. And needlessly don't you think?

Yea, it sucks to get your boobs squished annually but it's a small price to pay to be alive to see your children grow, to grow old with your partner, and to live a long productive life.

Random Ramblings

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 19 Nov 2009 10:25:10 PST

Am I the only one who doesn't give a rats ass about vampires and tween angst?
Am I the only one who thinks that this English Pattinson boy needs his hair washed and a shower? Yea, it seems that way.
I guess this is yet another sign of being old cause I sure as hell don't get this not even a little tiny bit.

I also don't get the people who buy Sarah Palin's book. God I couldn't give her my money!
She is scary to me in a whole lot of ways. Dick Cheney scary only dumber.....which can be even scarier if you think about it.
I tivo Oprah but deleted the episode with her without watching it. It would have only angered me and why do that. Beisdes Oprah doesn't ask good questions anymore and I would have been shouting at the television.

And speaking of Oprah. What the hell is going on with her show? It stinks anymore.
Karaoke contest? Really it's come to that? I am seeing signs that it is time for her to change directions or move on if that is the best adult topic they can come up with. Wow.
Apparently it is a very slow news day in America. wink, wink.

Do you realize how hard it is to get a dog to diet? Oh my this has been the most difficult thing ever. For 2 weeks Izzy has been a pyscho since not having as much food. She actually brought her food bowl up to the 2nd floor to bring it to me as I was in my office. She dropped the bowl at my feet and then sat there looking at me with those sad puppy eyes. Then a couple days later she sat in front of the pantry door and every time I would look at her she would tilt her head towards the door where her food is kept. That made me laugh out loud but honestly it was sad. She then began to circle for her tail - constantly. She was acting weird. I finally couldn't handle it and gave in and gave her the food. She is back to normal now but I think she is getting a bit over weight and she is only 8 months old.

I called the vet and the vet assistant told me that since she has been spayed she shouldn't be on puppy food anymore. Gee that might have been a good thing to share with us when we picked her up!! She told me that puppy food is high in fat and for growing dogs. She is no longer growing because she has been spayed so we should slowly more her to dog food for a leaner dog.
So we will be trying that and see what happens. I thought dieting for myself was tough - HA!

May I have a vowel please?

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 06:21:14 PST

I always wanted to be tall, blonde and flat chested.
I figured my life would be so easy if I had all of those things.
I also thought it would be wonderful to be a WASP.
I wanted a last name like Smith or Jones. I wanted to eat fried chicken and meatloaf.
To me that was like Leave it To Beaver, The Brady Bunch and all the other shows on TV whose names did not end in a vowel.

I grew up in a loud Italian American Family.
My friends and play mates growing up were my cousins and that to me was normal.
My fathers parents were from Italy and my dad was the youngest and he was fortunate enough to be born here in America. My mom’s parents were Italian as well and my mom was born in America. I had no chance in hell of being tall, blonde and flat chested. Sigh!

Sundays were always the same. After Mass there were the big family dinners. Pasta of course. Only we didn’t call it pasta. My family called it spaghetti or macaroni. Unless it was ravioli’s or gnocchi or some such thing. My dad’s brother, my Uncle Angelo, and his wife lived with their 5 children and my dad’s Mom. They would come over on Sunday’s or we would go there on Sundays. Either way it was always so much fun! Afull day of food, laughter, playing and fun.

It was a fabulous way to grow up. I loved all my cousins and I so looked forward to the weekends when we were at Uncle Angelo’s or they were at our home. It normally ended up being the whole family of Uncle’s and Aunts, and cousins. There were a lot of people in a small house by today’s standards and lots of kids. You know those crazy Italian Catholics and birth control.

We moved to the suburbs when I started school. I still was ensconced in my extended family. The only time I ever felt different in grade school was when a kid asked to trade sandwiches. I usually had Genoa Salami or Prosciutto or Capocollo. For some crazy reason my mother felt that peanut butter and jelly was not a proper sandwich of nutition. Which is hysterical really since these luncheon meats she fed us were so much fat. But anyway this kid looked at my sandwich on hard crusty Italian Bread and looked at the meat and said, “what is this?” as he gave it back to me. (it was Capocollo and provolone) I really wanted his PB & J but he wouldn’t trade so I ate my sandwich and didn’t think much of it at all until junior high.

Living out in the suburbs was a whole lot different than living in the city with the rest of my extended family. This exposed me to all the wasps. I never knew people who’s last name didn’t end in a vowel. I suddenly realized my family was different….really different. Short, dark, loud, funny, talked with their hands and were very very expressive.

My father was a master plumber. He owned his own business. He was successful and I never wanted for anything. But living in the suburbs I realized I didn’t have a lot of stuff and certainly wasn’t spoiled in comparison to my school mates..
I was in school with doctor’s kids, and executives and CEO’s children. I didn’t have name brand clothes or expensive cars. Our home was big compared to my relatives in the city but by suburb standards it was on the smaller size.

I began to notice all the differences and I was embarrassed. When I went over to someone’s home after school it was different than mine in little ways. After school they ate Oreo’s and I ate homemade pizzelles or biscotti. They would ask what they were and smell them and say, No thanks. I begged my mom to buy Oreo's.

The last straw for me was when I went to friends home after school to work on a school project. The week before she had come to my home as we started the project. I was to eat dinner with she and her family as she did the week before with mine. Her father was the CEO of Hammermill Paper. I didn’t know what a CEO was back then.

When we came home from school there was a woman ironing in her house and I knew that wasn’t her mom so I asked her who that was. She said she was a housekeeper. WOW……That was my first and only thought....WOW. Then she told me her mom was playing tennis and would be home later. Okay stop right there. My mom never played tennis in her life, she was our housekeeper and what kind of world is this? I suddenly felt very self conscious as you do when you are a young kid in junior high.

By the time dinner rolled around and their 7 kids and myself went to the dinner table I was completely overwhelmed at everything at their home. The size, all the nice things, the housekeeper, the tennis outfit her mom showed up in and then her father who sat at the table in a suit and tie. That was Sunday Mass clothes to me. My dad came home in “work clothes” Got cleaned up and then sat down in a clean shirt and slacks but never a suit and tie during the week. For some reason that too was intimidating to me.

We all sat down at this big wooden dining room table with a spinning lazy susan in the middle of it. I had never seen anything like this table. Again I thought they must be rich! We all said grace and then their lazy susan began to spin as 7 kids and 14 hands were grabbing at bowls like it was feeding time at the zoo.

My mother would have been horrified if I did that so I sat there like “a lady” as my mom would say and waited. My friends Dad speaks up and welcomes me and says, “Peggy your dad came out to fix our furnace this past Christmas Eve, he was such a nice man. We couldn’t find anyone to help us. He was a God send. He was so jovial and wonderful and it really made our Christmas.”

I am now completely and utterly embarrassed. Instead of being proud of my father with the wonderful words this man has just bestowed on him I wanted to crawl under the table. I remember that call on Christmas Eve when we were all so upset that Daddy had to go out to fix some family’s furnace. I remember him telling us that he couldn’t let a family not have heat on Christmas. He hugged us all as he left in his Santa hat. ( I later learned he didn’t charge extra for a holiday rate - he just told them Merry Christmas)

So my friend speaks up and says, “You wouldn’t believe the stuff we eat when I go to Peggy’s house. I can’t even pronounce the stuff we ate last week’
Honest to God I was praying for a trapped door under my seat. Now all eyes are on me.
My Friend’s Mom asks, “What ever did you have dear?”

Oh. My. God. Please take me away from here. Please. I couldn’t even look up from my plate, which gave me anxiety because I knew my mom would be mortified that I did not look someone in the eye when speaking to them….but I just couldn’t.

I mutter that we had braciole and rigatonis. (I left out the antipasto & daddy’s homemade wine) To me that isn’t exotic for heaven’s sake. Oh, but they have to ask for me to speak up so I look at them and try to act as though this embarrassment isn’t killing me and say, “We just had braciole and rigatoni’s”
All together now, “WHAT IS THAT?” I so wanted to cry. I think my friends parent’s picked up on that and had the kids shut up. They both just said it sounded wonderful and asked how our school project was coming along. I was so thankful they changed the subject.

I went home that night and cried to my parents. Why did my father have to do work for my friends family? Why can’t we have meatloaf like normal people? Why do we have to be so different? I ran to my room telling them I didn’t want to be Italian anymore and cried. My parents were hurt. They didn’t understand. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t be blonde and be named Susie and eat meatloaf. I just wanted to grow up and eat macaroni and cheese from a blue box and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches like “normal people” what's not to understand?

I’m now grown up and I would give anything for my Mom’s braciole, her homemade biscotti or her homemade pasta that she made without a machine I might add. I now cherish that upbringing as crazy and loud as it all was.

Mangia!

In a Funk

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 09:25:30 PST

It's cold, wet, dreary and just plain shitty around these parts today.
Money is tight and baseball season is over.
I'm in a Funk.

Someone sent me this link (http://twitter.com/shitmydadsays) and I have to tell you this guy's father cracks me up.

Apparently this 29 year old writer wanna be had to move back home with his father.
His father says some funny things - never meaning to be funny mind you- but this kid thinks they are hysterical and he is correct.....and he writes them all down verbatim.

He then started a Twitter account and he writes them daily.
I was sent the link and haven't been able to stop reading them ever since.
Some make me laugh out loud. I can hear my father saying the same things!
Especially the 1 about the kids new phone.

Now this kid got so much attention for this that CBS announced that they'd signed him to write a family sitcom based on the Tweets. The series will be overseen by "Will & Grace" creators David Kohan and Max Mutchnick. He's in the money$$$$$

To think all the dumb ass things my parents have been saying over the years that I could be making a fortune and not having these financial headaches right now.

How dumb am I?

Some Life From The Past 7 Days

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 08:32:47 PST

Here is our gal Izzy lying on the floor looking like she's drunk from a bowl of candy.

We were so worried she would be difficult as the trick or treaters came up to the door.

This being her first Halloween and all. As you can see she was thrilled.

It was warm so we pulled up a chair and sat at the door with the door opened. She sat and watched a few and then just laid down and fell asleep. The real little ones got a real kick out of it. The older kids asked if she was okay. I think they thought she was hurt or dead. Some asked if she was real. I guess they thought that was our scary Halloween bit - a dead dog in the foyer. That made us giggle. We even tried to get her to move but then she started snoring so we figured the kids would realize it was a real live breathing snoring dog.

This is our gal who can't let a delivery man or truck allow her to move. She will stop dead in her tracks if there is a delivery truck near by. She will stop and stare until they leave. She does not move, bark or annoy. She will just watch. She will watch the men like they are food. It's funny. This one just pulled over to the side - got in the back of the truck and moved boxes around and made a ton of noise. She just stared. He got back up front and drove away. Then, and only then, could we continue on our walk.

I've been up since 2:30a.m. It was a long, stressful, and ultimately good night/morning.

NINE (9) Long Years I have waited for this.... I love these guys!

2009 World Series Winners.

Part II

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 06:28:41 PST

Rick walked into her home and she greeted him like a little kid.
She was jumping up and down and as he described it…..she is off her rocker and I couldn’t figure out why she was doing this. He still has no explanation of that behavior. (It just makes me laugh)

She told him that she will be downstairs if you need anything, anything at all. Just call me or come downstairs. He told her this repair wouldn’t take long and he went to work.
Because he does not mix chemicals in a customers home he does a lot of going in and out of their homes to his van to mix the chemicals.

Every time he went out the door she was standing at the side of the door when he came in with a barrage of questions. Do you need anything? Do you want a cup of coffee? Pop? Can I make you lunch? To all of these questions he said, “No thank you Diane I just need to work so I can make my next appointment on time.” (like that would make her back off)

He goes to work and as he is kneeling in front of the tub he turns around to get something out of his box of tools & she is standing there. Stealth Diane he called her.
It startled him and he asked her to leave because she should not be in the room when the chemicals are sprayed. To which she stated it didn’t matter she didn’t mind the smell.
He told her it mattered to him, so you will have to leave the room now. She said, “Gosh you are so kind.” How he doesn’t laugh I don’t know but then again being scared may have something to do with it. He closed the door and locked it.

He went in and out a couple more times to his truck for things and for mixing. She was always at the side of the door when he returned. Just out of sight enough so you couldn't see her when you opened the door at first. He said he actually had goose bumps he was so creped out.

When the job was completed he gave her the invoice and she held the check. She kept her hands over her mouth and acted as though she was horrified. He asked if it looked okay. She said it was wonderful, "You are such an artist".... and then she said, "Working with you has been shear joy." Shear Joy??? Oh c’mon who the hell says that to their contractor I ask you? Try to read that sentence and not laugh your ass off.

He said he literally grabbed the check from her hand since it didn't appear that she was going to fork it over. At that point he said he didn't care about being professional and then he ran out of there before she could try to hug or touch him. He called me from the truck and told me he does not ever want to go back there and if she calls please, please, please tell her we have no room on the schedule….EVER.

So last night when he went into the bathroom to pee I quietly walked in behind him and startled the shit out of him and I said, “You are such an artist when you pee and watching you gives me shear joy!”

Oooh, how that made him jump.
He didn’t find that funny AT ALL....Bad Wife.

My Favorite Expression

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Tue, 03 Nov 2009 17:51:18 PST

Two weeks ago I had a woman call our office for our services. Rick did the job and she wrote me an email saying that he did a fabulous job and thanked us again for getting she and her husband on the schedule so quickly (had a cancellation) and then all these niceties.

Now I don’t get those (niceties) often so you would think I would just love them and not complain. But something about this woman was a bit creepy. I thanked her and thought that was the end of it.

Then she wrote to me on Thursday and asked if she could speak to Rick.
I said he wasn’t in the office but I could help her.
She said, “No I need to speak with him.”
I told her I would page him and have him give her a call when he was able.

Now remember I do not tell people that I am Rick’s wife. They think I am just an employee who works here. I even go by my maiden name here. So keep that in mind.

Rick called her and then Rick calls me from the field to tell me that she is psycho and he thinks she is divorcing because she kept saying she wants this job done before her husband gets home and “that everything has changed in my life in the last two weeks”

He asked me if I could fit her in somewhere so he could drop by and see what needs done and get her on the schedule. "Why the hell couldn’t she just ask you Margaret? “
“Cause I think she’s hot for you “and we both laughed having no idea really.

I told him that his schedule looked like he could swing by there Friday afternoon in between appointments to see what is involved and if it’s as small as you say it sounds you may be able to do the job on Tuesday afternoon. So he told me that when she calls see if that will work for her. "I am not talking to her again - please deal with her for me okay?"

She did indeed call me immediately after I hung up with Rick.
I squeezed her in for the estimate on Friday as Rick and I talked about.
She was thankful I could do this on such short notice.
She thanked me over and over again and then went on a tirade about her hubby, complete with crying. Apparently he just came home one day and told her he didn’t want to be married anymore. She was surprised. He then left the next morning for California for a week. She got a realtor and she is trying to get the home ready to sell. It’s her dream home and yada yada yada…..whimper, whimper, whimper. TMI to me.

She said her husband is cheap and wouldn’t do all these things to fix up the house and she wanted them done before he came home to avoid him bitching a fit. She said he would complain to have to do it but if he doesn’t know it’s been done all the better.
I wanted to scream – I REALLY DON’T CARE LADY..
But I just muttered, Mmm, yes, etc.

Now on Friday Rick goes to do the estimate and then she calls me immediately upon his departure. (in the mean time Rick gets in his truck and tries to call me and gets voicemail because I’m on the phone with her!)

She wanted to book this ASAP and it must be before the dreaded hubby comes home from California. Then she went on this whole tangent on how wonderful Rick is. He is so sweet and handsome. His wife is so lucky. I wonder if she knows how lucky she is to have such a wonderful man in her life. He seems to be such a warm person and he is so good and kind that I know he will be rewarded. (Okay I am stifling a huge laugh here and it’s killing me!)

She then said, “I asked him for a hug and I think I scared him a bit and I just went for it.”
Now I am thinking, do I tell this nut job that I am his wife or what do I do?
I say nothing.
She repeats that he sure is sweet and cute. Okay already I get it!
I book the job for Tuesday – today.

Rick in the mean time has left me a voicemail while I’m on the phone with her to tell me to call him as soon as I get off the phone. I do.
He said, "OH MY GOD this woman is nuts. She started to cry and I put my hand on her shoulders which I know I shouldn’t have and she went in for a hug. I was standing there with my pen and invoices and my tools and I didn’t put my arms around her just stood there with my hands full. She is telling me stuff like I could give a shit. it was so odd and awkward you have no idea.....she's creepy man"

I am now laughing at him.

"I need a shower Margaret this isn’t funny."

He asked, “You know the worst part?”

“That you’re married?”

"No, Margaret that she is gross. Why don’t good looking young ladies do this to me?"

That is what you think is the worse part? Oh brother Rick.... What is wrong with her?"

"She’s been ridden hard and put away wet ya know?"

Ah, there it is…the expression that I had never heard of until I met him and it never fails to make me giggle.

“And she’s old.”

“What are you calling old, old man?”

"Well 60 is my guess.....maybe late 50’s but looks terrible. She has black hair that is like Elvira.
Not a shade found in nature you know? A smoker so her face is all crinkly. And no big boobs like Elvira or curves– she's just a scary homely stick!"

"Okay so what you’re telling me is if she was 25-40 and good looking I would have a reason to be worried."

"Well Bubbaloo…..not worried exactly….and he trails off like I won’t notice."

"Ah, laugh now funny boy she could be dangerous!"

"I know and that is what I'm worried about. I'm telling you she gives me the creeps and it's not becuase she is not nice looking but because she is just creepy."

So today he is at her house working on her master bath.
I called him and he sounded odd. It went like this…..

"Is she standing right there with you in the bathroom as you work?"

"Oh Yes, that’s right I can probably do it on this Saturday."

"Do I have to worry about finding rabbits or my dog boiling in my pot on the stove?"

"You may! I will call you when I leave here and head to the next job and we can figure the schedule as well as the proper top coat?"

"Sure, you’re making me laugh you know, like I’m a stranger."

"Yes,I know but I believe the low VOC top coat will have a lesser warranty."

"Are you scared?"

"A little bit. I’ll talk with you soon and we can discuss it then."

So blogger friends I’ll let you know what happened tomorrow.
I can’t wait until he leaves her house I know he will be calling me immediately.

M & M's and lousy baseball

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Thu, 29 Oct 2009 08:28:14 PDT

Not a great day for me.

My team got their asses spanked last night & I have a new addiction..
M & M peanuts…..oh sure they are gluten free but not good for me.

My husband bought Halloween candy this year.
There is a damn good reason why he never has done this before.
I normally buy it every year and I buy candy I don’t like for a reason.
I buy Snickers, Reese peanut butter cups, Kit-kat bars other things I will not eat.
Normally we buy the full size bars from Costco but this year money is tight so we discussed buying Halloween size candy this year and not be as popular as in previous years on the block.

I guess since we discussed this he figured while he was at Costco picking up a Rx he could just pick some up….which is thoughtful kind of….
I really hate when Rick goes to Costco alone because they sell lots of stuff in big amounts. It’s a manly store with big ole sides of beef that he can’t walk away from and bricks of cheese the size of his head so when he walks in there he goes ape shit nuts.
But I digress…. I will tell you some of the escapades another time….back to Halloween.

Numbnuts brings home the variety pack of candy the size of Rhode Island from Costco.
Doesn’t he know that I can rummage through this until I find something I like?
Don’t you think after 22 years he would have figured out that I can hear candy call my name no matter how high you put this enormous bag? (I have step stools goof ball)

Yes I am short, 5’2” and hubby is 6’2” so he thinks if the candy is high I won’t eat it. HA!

The damn fool believed me when I told him that. But last night I kept hearing little whispers of, “Peggy eat me, eat me, up here, c’mon get me, Peggy eat me.”

How can you resist this I ask you?
(Honestly it wasn’t Rick saying those things either – he was already snoring in his chair)

So last night during the horrifically embarrassing game I hit that bag like a raccoon to a garbage can. He and the dog snored as I gained 5lbs from sugar and nuts.
So wonderful for my health issues I know. I ate 8 of them….8!! I am a pig.
While there may only be 4 in each of those mini bags that is still 32 chocolate covered peanuts I unconsciously ate while screaming at my TV.

I waddled upstairs feeling sick from M & M’s and my team’s lousy play.

I am feeling like shit today.

Anyone got any Ben and Jerry’s that may help settle my tummy?

Apple Pie ...part II

mhugill@verizon.net (Margaret (Peggy or Peg too)) — Tue, 27 Oct 2009 07:12:37 PDT

My sister wrote & asked me for this recipe after she read about it here.
Then a friend called and asked how to make this as well.
So my ugly but good pie is listed below.
I will write the directions as the recipe called for.
Then I will tell you what I did differently.

Now you are all assuming it’s good and I can’t tell you that because I can’t eat it.
You are going by my husband’s reaction.
He will eat anything…..that my friends is my disclaimer in case you all don’t like it.
BTW he has finished the whole pie as of last night.
I took it out of the oven at 4pm on Saturday and it was gone by Monday night all by himself.
If only women could eat like this....oh we can but then we look like a barn. Sigh.

INGREDIENTS
1 recipe pastry for a 9 inch double crust pie
1/2 cup unsalted butter
3 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1/4 cup water
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
8 Granny Smith apples - peeled, cored and sliced

DIRECTIONS
1. Preheat oven to 425 degrees F (220 degrees C). Melt the butter in a saucepan. Stir in flour to form a paste. Add water, white sugar and brown sugar, and bring to a boil. Reduce temperature and let simmer.
2. Place the bottom crust in your pan. Fill with apples, mounded slightly. Cover with a lattice work of crust. Gently pour the sugar and butter liquid over the crust. Pour slowly so that it does not run off.
3. Bake 15 minutes in the preheated oven. Reduce the temperature to 350 degrees F. Continue baking for 35 to 45 minutes, until apples are soft.

Now here is what I did differently than above directions.

I used a Pillsbury frozen pie crusts that you roll out – I cheated!I brushed egg white on the bottom crust so that it didn’t get soggy.I added a tsp of cinnamon to the apples and didn’t think that was enough so I just put in more. How much more you ask? I have no idea – maybe another tsp. I also put in a pinch of nutmeg.
When it came to the syrup I took the ¼ cup water and removed 1 tsp of it and replaced that with 1 tsp of vanilla. My thinking was it would be the same amount of liquid.I also didn’t pour it over the apples once in the pie crust because I knew I wasn’t doing a lattice top– I mixed it in the apples in the big bowl and then transferred them all to the crust.
I didn’t make a lattice top crust. I left some of the syrup out and poured that over the top so I could still get the sugary crunchy top. I am guessing about ¼ c was left out and used on the top. Again though I am guessing. I have to admit I sometimes cook and bake like the old Italian women in my family. All of it done by eye balling it.

Now Tallulah I expect you to perfect this because you are the high priestess of baking and cooking unlike myself. I dabble in comparision.

As Julia would say, Bon Appetit!