Years ago I read that during the filming of Gone with the Wind, Vivien Leigh was quoted saying Clark Gable had atrociously bad breath, making intimate scenes with him extremely unpleasant. To this day I can’t watch a Clark Gable movie without thinking about that and wondering if his female costars held their breath in his presence. His response? “Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn.” Just a guess…
Yep, definitely holding her breath
Movie stars have a certain image they portray on screen and it sometimes crosses over into real life. Many are glamorized and idolized — all those words ending with “ized.” But the truth often contradicts our impression of them, don’t you think?
Now don’t get me wrong; we all know the persona is an illusion the movie industry created. Still, nobody wants to hear the awful truth, like Bradley Cooper stinks. Yep, you read that right. He’s a…
I went on a 3-hour, 80 mile ride Thursday with Mario. Unless you count the hour we got lost. Then it’s more like 4-hours and 100 miles. Now don’t get me wrong; before you get all excited thinking I have a boyfriend, Mario is my scooter (as you may know if you read my blog, Just Gotta Scoot).
Mario and I took the back road trip from my home in San Rafael to the scooter shop for a tune-up in Santa Rosa. Turns out I learned a few things since our last extended journey. (There goes that live and learn lesson again.) Anyway, I thought I’d share my findings in case you also one day find yourself riding on the same gorgeous back roads through beautiful Marin and Sonoma Counties, which I also blogged about in My Slice of Paradise. (Yes, I’m shamelessly self-promoting.)
Well, I’m two-thirds of the way there so I figure #3 is lurking nearby, ready to pounce. Will I be driving, swerve to avoid a deer and crunch my car against a tree? Will I be walking the dogs when Skip, for the millionth time, stops directly in front of me for no apparent reason, whereupon I nosedive onto the sidewalk, breaking said nose? Or, more likely, it will have something to do with cats. It usually does.
Take injury #1 that occurred 3 weeks ago. I was trapping ferals for spay/neuter and using our new remote control drop trap for the first time. What an awesome invention. Cats are smart little buggers and they sometimes catch on to the fact that I’m trying to capture them, especially when I have to be present to operate a normal drop trap. They seem to know I’m hiding 50 feet away in the bed of a pickup, not-so-clandestinely peeking over the tailgate.
But with a remote control trap, I can be 200 feet away. Sometimes I need binoculars to see whether it’s a crow under there or a small black cat. But after testing the trap, I noticed it sometimes jammed when I pulled the trigger, failing to drop down all the way. This is not good. The cats were watching, like furry little spies, from behind wheels of parked cars, so I decided to test the trap again but catch it before the heavy metal hit the cement with a bang, scattering the ferals.
I hate killing things. I shoo flies from the house and scoop up spiders to bring outside. When my cats bring in lizards (once I found one staring back at me from my pantry shelf), I place them in my critter container used specifically for their release.
I’m considered to be a pescatarian, not to be confused with a Presbyterian. That means I don’t eat meat but will eat seafood. Prawns, calamari and scallops are the extent of my fish consumption. They don’t have faces, making it somewhat easier for me to swallow them.
Thanks for not eating me
I suppose technically prawns and calamari have faces, so someday I probably won’t be eating them either. I don’t know how long I can handle the guilt before I go completely veggie. I’m Catholic so I harbor a fair amount of guilt. Continue reading →
I guess you could say my Christmas spirit was missing in action this year. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not like me to forgo decorating with enough holiday decor that borders on being embarrassing. However, I was swamped with work so finding time (and the gumption) to drag everything from the shed was rather daunting. So I skipped it, other than placing a wreath on the front door, giving the illusion I’m festive.Normally I invite my 10 besties over for a tree decorating party in early December. We eat, drink and are consequently quite merry. Karen hangs the lights because she does it best. The gals hang most of the ornaments, yelling at me to “Come help us!” That’s because I’m usually busy gabbing. Dinner is just a ruse to lure them over. I’m like Tom Sawyer, only instead of painting my fence, they decorate my tree. But this year I gave them a reprieve. Continue reading →