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  • Hey... I'm rich NOT

    Got to love it
    Now I can go to sleep every night and spend 5000 us (?) dollars, minus the transfer funds of course, in my ever greener dreams.
    I have spent the last half hour laughing my way though the typos, misspellings and other blatantly obvious mistakes in this highly official and generous email. Since I have already collected on the Nigerian Derby last week and the Libyan Lottery the week before that, I thought I would put this offer up for grabs. So go for it my gullible friend and don't blame me when you wake up $107 us (?) dollars poorer.

    From Office of the Western Union Money Transfer
    Accra Ghana/ Address  BMP .450 Ring Rd.
    Website...www.westernunion.com
     
    Happy New  Year Dear Kathryn

    This is an issue involving $1.7,million us dollars which was called to Our Bank(BANK OF AFRICA GHANA) from THE FEDERAL MINISTRY OF FINANCE AND PAYMENT COMMISSION ACCRA GHANA..An instruction has come directly from Mr.Jona Akim of Ministry Of Finance.He asked us to start sending your fund installmentally $5000 per a day through western union money transfer.This type of transfer means you will be recieving $5,000.00, every day through western union money transfer until the total of $1.7 million us dollars is completely transfer to you. Today,our bank has effected your first payment of $5000 through western union.contact via[unibankwesternuniondepghana@gmail.com]
     
    The Western Union General Manager Foreign Fund Operation Dep Ghana:
    Dr.Victor Ike
    Tel:..+233-274-436-360
    E-mail: via(unibankwesternuniondepghana@gmail.com )
     
    Money sent Through Dr.Victor Ike, amount sent $5,000.00 in your name today. So contact Dr.Victor Ike  on above email address and tell him to give you the needed information to pick the $5,000.00.your first batch of transfer.

    however before this needed information to pick-up the $5,000.00,your first batch of transfer will be sent to you, you must send them your Current Cell Number...Country and City of your choice where will be easy and fast for you to receive your fund,and also send them your tax clearance charges of ($107usd). as per the instruction from the International Monetary Fund(I.M.F office) and the charges cannot be deduct from your total fund because your fund is under security bond.]and no body is alowed to remove any money out of it till is been sent to you completely,so Pls contact them ASAP and send them the tax fee $107, and other needed information , for them to send you, your pick- up information.
     
    Thanks,
    Mrs Kwame Janet
    Western Union Transfer Unit,/
    Foreign Operation Dept.
    Bank Of Africa,Accra Ghana

  • A tale of a purse

    I've always known that I am a pack rat. A neat pack rat, but a pack rat all the same. So it comes as no surprise to me that DH always has some comment to make about my pseudo purse. What I carry day to day is more of a sack, a survival kit.  I only carry a "real" purse to those few fancy dancy mandatory attendance events where one is expected to air kiss and foo foo dance. I spend most of my time worried that I may have left some small essential home because of space limitations. I want it all. You never know what can happen. I may need that "fill in the blank".



    His main complaint, however, is not the size of my everyday sack but the weight of it all. I insist that it's not that bad. He insists that he would rather carry seven year old Mo up two flights of stairs in tack lined shoes with his feet on fire. Why?

    Recently, I needed to go to the local Police/Fire Station, simply a friendly visit to gather information. When I entered the building you would have thought I had attempted to board an airplane with a flare tied to my head. Traffic court (sic) whatever, must have been in session. "Need to pass through the security scan, Miss." What?  I was definitely headed away, far away from that section of the building. Didn't matter. Beefy 4 x 4 gal at the scanner was bored and was now branching out into new horizons. But who am I to argue with gun and a deep blue uniform. "Got any metal on ya?"  On me? No, not really. "In my purse/sack, maybe." I said.  "Put it on the belt and pass through. I did. No problem. It did and apparently it was the Millionth visitor to Disney World because every bell and whistle in the place went off. All that was missing was the fireworks. (But I guess the flare tied to my head was a good substitute). At this point 4 x 4's BFF, 2 x 8, came over to see who was passing out free donuts.

    "What's in the bag, Ma'am?" This guy had attended Joe Friday's School of Etiquette. They must have thought it was a bomb because Duffus One and Duffus Two actually handed back my bag and asked me to empty it.

    So I did.

    Keys    (house, car, other car, kid's car, dad's house, kid's house, camp, camper)

    Wallet (clutch type with all the money, plastic money, various OTC drugs, checkbook, pen, extra pen, appointment book,)

    Water bottle
    Sewing kit (Including scissors)
    Grocery list, still on it's pad
    Paperback
    Gloves
    GPS
    PDA
    Flashlight
    Collapsible umbrella (L L Bean)
    2 Granola Bars (was planning on visiting G'kids later)
    3 Bakagon

    still digging here and still no bomb

    Screw Driver (with the interchangeable bits)
    Camera...

    CAMERA!!  POTENTIAL LETHAL WEAPON?
    At this point 4 x 4 jumps in with:

    "Court's in session.”

    “You can take that with you if you promise to not take any pictures."

    And I hadn't even started on the side pockets where I keep the cell phone, batteries, Leatherman pocket tool, Swiss Army Knife (mine since I was a Girl Scout all those many years ago), Tums, hand sanitizer, Kleenex, and other incendiary devices.

    Turns out all my metal sharp pointy things were not a problem. The danger was that I might find a secret passage that leads back to the courtroom and take a picture of the judge picking his nose. Who Knew?

    Now I said all that, purely anecdotal by the way, to say this:

    I had decided to use DH's vehicle this past Monday evening mainly because he had left it in the driveway and rather than drive over the truck with my vehicle (which is not a tank by any stretch of the imagination) I happily appropriated Miss F-150 for my use. Went to my Guild meeting... added various and sundry items to my purse/sack to carry home from said Guild meeting.... Plopped my purse/sack into the front passenger side seat.... turned the key and Voila... the kind and gentle voice embedded in the dashboard informs me that the passenger side airbag has been switched off.

    Guess my bag is the size of a small child after all.

    I'm not vindictive.

    But I do have a Grandson and a Screwdriver.


    And this


    Could soon look like this


    That'll teach Miss F-150 to keep her yap shut.

     


  • A Brick for Bricker59

    I came across this while searching for a pic for a different blog entry. A certain gentleman with self described thick black irresistible to women locks instantly sprang to mind.

    So, Bricker, this one's for you...

    Apparently back in the 60’s Mr. Heineken came up with the idea while concerned about the about of litter/wastage beer bottles were causing. Sadly they never saw the light of day… shame.



     


    Best get started on that guest house....

  • Dare to breathe



    I've been holding my breath so long that I've forgotten how it feels to breathe. To draw breath so deep into your lungs that you feel giddy, light headed and fresh. To push it all out in a rush.... There's something so primal yet peaceful about long, strong pulls that make your belly pop up (G'daughter's CeCe's observation).

    I've been afraid... afraid that if I breathe too deep all the pain inside would spill in great flowing currents from my soul. The private me would be exposed. And that wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all. But the pain has subsided and the bits that remain have hardened, clinging tenaciously to my heart. No amount of huffing and puffing can dislodge the stubborn hangers on. It grates like sandpaper these remnants; a constant reminder of the once overwhelming fear and grief.

    And now... this.

    I have written before of my Hubby's penchant for flirting with death.  I've nearly lost him so many times that it seems foolish to even count. But I do. He continues to dally daily with a currently stable issue that could become unstable without warning. That is "whole 'nother story". Recently... about the beginning of October, H experienced some cold/flulike symptoms. He appeared to shake them off within a week to ten days same as any time before. However, about seven days after the last symptoms seemed to fade, H began to notice a weakness in his legs, which quickly developed into tremors upon exertion. This was accompanied by a constant state of vertigo/nausea. He went to his doctor who said.... "Must be an ear infection"... gave him meds. No improvement. Returned to doc who made an appointment with a neurologist who wouldn't be able to see him for more than a month. He continued to worsen to the point where he was fast becoming non ambulatory due to the tremors and disorientation. He was unable to eat due to the nausea.

    I was worried because H was worried. This man never worries... never. But this had him scared beyond words. He ended up having an emergency MRI because the doc was afraid that H may have had a stroke. The results showed absolutely nothing (no gratuitous empty head jokes please). He was then able to get a much sooner appointment with a different neurologist who finally diagnosed him with residual complications from H1N1 (huh?)  In a nutshell... H's body was attacking his brain, specifically in the vision and motor balance centers. It is an auto-immune dysfunction. Once the inciting agent is removed (H1N1 virus) he will most likely (MOST LIKELY?) return to normal.

    Then the guy slips this in, slick, almost as an after thought.. "If not, then it is a  cancer elsewhere in the body and then we will have to do a PET scan to confirm and discuss treatment for that at a future time."

    Looks as if H has cheated the reaper again. He is improving slowly. Very slowly. Both doctors feel that it will be closer to the New Year before H begins to feel more normal. His total exhaustion is painful to see. He refuses to use his cane anymore. I can tell when he is particularly tired because he begins to wobble and move like a stick... you know... he turns his whole body rather than his head only, think Godzilla of the 1960's.

    Just when I thought it was safe to breathe.

  • Time to update the page

    I've been MIA for much too long.

    I could take the easy way out and catalog the unending list of reasons why I have avoided posting. None of them are fully sufficient as an explanation. All of them are fully self centered.

    Today I logged on and took a good look at my page.      I feel that it (the page design) should in some way impart a tiny bit of myself to world. Those seeing it should be able to say... yes, I can see why Kat would use this or that. I think.. I know that even I am over seeing my crying angel.

    I said seeing; not being.

    It's time for her to slide back into her cocoon nestled deep within my psyche. Time to pull the mourning under covers and step back into life.

    So I'm going to try and fix the page... soon. Say goodbye to the monochromatic theme and reach however limply for a brighter frame of mind. I'm going to look around me and outside the pain and try and grasp a piece of the life that swirls around me sweeping me numbly along the path of time.

    Soon.....

  • I'm missing Rob today....

    I know, it has become a mantra of sorts; this unspoken longing to see, to know, to somehow believe that the last three months has been some kind of morbid joke and Rob will walk through the door for Thanksgiving, or Christmas or whatever.

    So why am I here, at this point of sadness again?

    I trimmed out the crabapple tree that stands in the lawn terrace at the front of my home. Normal fall activity. I want it to have a nice shape and not grow too tall too fast. The secret is to never, NEVER, put the pruning shears in DH's hands. My purpose is aesthetic, his is purely altruistic. I remember the year he 'helped' trim the Hemlock... I cried for days. Anyways... I pulled out the ladder (it's a dwarf tree but I'm short. What can I say), I sharpened my tools, rolled the wheel barrow out front and began my 'trim the tree' ballet. Snip snap; circle the tree; up the ladder, down the ladder, move the ladder... snip snap.. back up and scan. Repeat, repeat, repeat. The dance also included the occasional traipse to the second floor window the check the shaping from above. Finally, I have what I think is the best shape and size for the tree all factors considered. Time for the last twirl around the tree. That's when it slips into my mind. I miss Robbie.

    This tree looks like Robbie. No, not literally. That would be ridiculous. But it does remind me of life with Rob. You see, the second year after planting this tree the snowfall was unusually deeper than normal. And even though the lawn terrace is quite wide, the snow piled up and around the tree until only the tips of its uppermost branches were visible. There it remained until the spring thaw revealed what had been happening beneath that dense white blanket. A branch was irreparably broken and the trunk was split. We bolted and wrapped the split which has since healed; the scars will always be visible but the tree continues to grow straight and strong. But the damage to the branch was... terminal. So I trimmed it out. Now there is a hole, a gap in the symmetry that can't be completely hidden or ignored. Still it's only discernible from one side. Passersby could easily miss the empty spot. I've done my best to disguise it. Someday the side branches will grow and fill in the gap. Yet, it's there, and will always be there to the trained eye.

    Life is like that. We've lost our Robbie. The great tearing and splitting that happened when he left us will heal with scars. But that hole, that space in our lives will always be there. After time other things will happen to fill in that spot. But the missing will always be there; that gap where Rob should be; laughing and twirling his nephew and niece through the air.... noisy toys at Christmas... another rambunctious adventure.

    In the spring our crabapple will bloom again.     Rob's space will be framed by a mass of pinky-red color that brings joy to the eye. I see Rob in that subtle space reminding me of the uncertainty of life... and the beauty of a life well lived.

    I'm missing Rob today.

  • "Age is nothing but a number." Is that true?

    So is the speed limit. I intend to push the limit where ever possible.

       

    I just answered this Featured Question; you can answer it too!

  • The Government Can

    This is exactly what DH was ranting about... not necessarily about the politics... but absolutely about the multiple governmental agencies with their fingers in his shrinking wallet.

     

     

  • Morose Ramblings

     

    I'm missing Robbie today.

    It didn't see it coming. Slam.

    It's been a month since his funeral and I'm finally questioning the sense of it all. He was soooo sick... yet looked soooo good right up to the day he took to bed for the last time. By good I mean healthy. Walking down the street I doubt passersby would have had the slightest clue that he was terminally ill. He ate, he drank, he even went sky diving a week before he died. Is this fair?

    Ok, I'm morose. (down in the dumps gloomy)

    I'm also a bit peeved. Not sure why, yet. Morose + peeved = one weird mood. For me, weirdness always becomes introspective. This death... this theft of life has left another gap in the foundation of life. When I was younger, I thought of life as a commodity; you've only so much to use and when it's gone... well, so are you. This commodity, this foundation of mine has been steadily eroding. Each disappointment, each loss has hacked a chunk from this base. It's beginning to look a lot like "March Ice".... It looks strong and sturdy. But inside it's all rotted and pitted, waiting for the inevitable collapse on some preordained and secret Spring day.

    I'm missing Robbie today.

    He would have preferred for me to call him Rob. But.. I'm here and he's not and I'm seeing the boy not the man today. I see him in Moe. The mischief and confidence. The tilt of his head when he's joking. His wide eyed daredevil headlong race to try it all. His love of the outdoors. His gentle and loving spirit. His unconditional acceptance of those dear to him.

    I'm missing Robbie today.

    I'm not the only one.

     

     

  • Sold To The Highest Bidder

     

    more money2

    The boss sold my husband.  It’s exactly as it sounds. Now, before anyone gets offended... DH is not obligated to approve of or accept the new situation. But, does he really have a choice???

     

    This is not a booming economy in case you haven’t noticed. There are way too many people vying for the few jobs available. Granted my husband possesses a unique set of job skills that would make him difficult to replace; difficult... not impossible. So why sell the man? Simply stated; money.

     

    The owners have never had a reason to fault DH’s work. He’s an artist, for goodness sake AND a math whiz… one of those self taught, rare, left and right brain thinkers. He’s managed to keep his department solvent and profitable in an industry that has seen much of its clientele shift to offshore providers. The business owners are tied to New York City textiles. They see life through a radically different prospective than a rural upstate manufacturing stand point. The truth is they have never been comfortable with the coloring facet of their business. They inherited the management of this company when their upstate partner decided to retire. At this point they were forced to move from silent capital providing partners to active management of the company. They found that they very much preferred giving the orders, siphoning off the profit and letting some other little guy have the headache of making it all happen.

     

    horse teethSo for the past month DH has been unknowingly auditioning for his own job. ‘New boss’ has kicked the tires, checked the teeth, made him spin in the town square, so to speak while they weighed the pro’s and con’s of acquiring him along with the entire company division. Meanwhile, ‘Old boss’ has been shifting as much capital as possible back into the industry side of the company by filling as many orders as feasible before the sale leaving DH caught between the tests and trials of the ‘New boss’ and the production demands of ‘Old boss’.

     

    ‘New boss’ came back with a decision. They would gladly take the dye division off ‘Old bosses’ hands on one condition only. DH had to be part of the deal. That’s when the haggling began.

     

    Old boss: He’s a valuable asset to the company. We could move him to Plant Manager in the Knitting division. (Translation… give us more money).

     

    New boss: We’ll give you more money.

     

    Old Boss: He’s a natural to run the Finishing and Frames. (Translation… give us more money).

     

    New boss: We’ll give you more money.

     

    more moneyOld boss: It’s going to take quite some time to train someone else to fill those positions. After all DH already holds a Management role. He knows the strengths and weaknesses of our current employees. They respect him. We really can’t see our way to letting him go at the moment. (Translation… give us more money).

     

    New boss: We’ll give you more money.

     

    Old boss: SOLD!!!!!

     

    There are some advantages to being sold.

    ·        He still has a job. DH is at an age where finding a new job becomes increasingly difficult.

    ·        No interruption in his health care coverage. It means a new provider but we’ve been through that nearly every year for the last ten years.

    ·        He’s actually going to be working in the same facility. ‘New boss’ is moving his entire operation into DH’s current location. ‘Old boss’ is renting the building to ‘New boss’. (More money… see a pattern here)

     

     

                  There are some disadvantages too.

     

                                                        No more money  for DH.

     

     

                          no more money

     

                               No surprise there.