Category Archives: Encore

My Work In Progress

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I’m on the comeback trail from Covid so expect a new posting next week. In the meantime, here’s one from 2020….

A couple Sunday’s ago you met my latest addition to my furry family. At that writing, this cross-eyed feline was called Trinity, the name Marin Humane gave her because she came from northern California. Since that day, her name has changed no less than 4 times. Hey, it’s not so easy naming someone you’re still getting to know.

For instance, when I decided to keep this semi-feral, I made a list of possible names with help from my friend Loretta. After all, she was spot-on naming Dash…entirely apropos for that madman. So for a couple days Trinity was Willow. But as I got to know her better, she wasn’t exactly graceful or willowy. This girl has a touch of crazy.

Then I called Trinity Sadie, although she didn’t look like a Sadie (whatever that looks like). That name soon became Chloe. But no matter how often I said it, it made absolutely no impression on her. In fact, I believe she ignored me even more than usual. Besides, Chloe is one of the top 10 names for female cats and she doesn’t strike me as a particularly trendy feline. So I went down my list of 12 names and said each one to her while looking for some sort of approval, maybe a look my way, a blink. Anything. But I got nothin’.

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Who You Callin’ Irritable?

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Since I’m dealing with Covid and have been prone for days, here’s a posting from August 2019.

Hold on a second while I scream at a fly dive-bombing me in my bedroom.

If you don’t get out of here this second and leave me alone, I’m gonna send you sailing into that wall and I’m afraid you won’t be getting back up!fly2

Okay, I’m back. Forgive me for that little tirade, will you? It’s not like me to want to hurt anything, even a fly. It’s just doing what flies do — being annoying. They can’t seem to help it. But did that stop me from screaming at it? Obviously not. And I’ll tell you why.

A couple weeks ago I posted, Help, I’m Crumbling, about my achy breaky back. The MRI disclosed a herniated disc and 2 collapsing vertebrae. As an added bonus, I’m now blessed with sciatica and a dollop of arthritis in my spine. In other words, I’m a mess. So the next step is an epidural injection of cortisone.

Great, let’s do it. I’m ready!back pain

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Woman’s Best Friend

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Previously posted in 2013

I had a confetti-filled homecoming last night; my house was TP’ed with a mega roll of Charmin Ultra Soft toilet paper. I know this because I bought the paper myself. You see, the scene of the crime took place inside my home.

Upon walking through the door, I spotted the evidence strewn about like mounds of paper snow. I immediately suspected the culprit was my border collie mix, Callie. She’s a chewer and she bores easily – two rather unfortunate traits in a canine. Continue reading →

Going Sugar-Free

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Have I mentioned I gave up sugar for almost 7 months? No? Well, I did. I bet I know what you’re thinking…how could I, a sugar addict, give up the white stuff (once again) for more than a day? I suppose you could say I didn’t TOTALLY give it up. After all, sugar is in pretty much everything, right?

sugar 2

You’d be amazed at the amount of sugar Americans consume in a day. One teaspoon of the stuff equals 4 grams and let me tell you, that adds up quickly. For instance, did you know a Snickers Bar has 28 grams of sugar? Wow. Good thing I don’t like Snickers. Sadly, I adore Baby Ruth’s with 33 grams.

snickers and baby ruth bars

I’m relatively certain only particular vegetables are sugar-free. Potatoes, however, aren’t one of them. Don’t be fooled, folks; the foods that don’t blatantly look sugar-laden convert into it immediately upon hitting your tongue. And don’t even get me started on pasta.

spicy pasta

Spicy tomato cream pasta…yum

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Down Memory Lane

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Last week I had occasion to visit the neighborhood where I grew up in Santa Venetia, also derogatorily known as Scabo. I’m not sure what that stands for but since it’s an ugly word, I’m guessing it wasn’t known as the most desirable place to live. But I beg to differ.

Santa Venetia

Kids don’t know they don’t live in a mansion. I certainly didn’t. We had 4 bedrooms that weren’t much bigger than some large walk-in closets and closets not much wider than a refrigerator. Now don’t get me wrong; I didn’t care one bit. I had what I needed and that was enough.

our house

Our little house

To me, our Doughboy Pool was the bomb (better known as groovy back then). Other neighborhood dads helped my dad install it. That’s how it was; neighbors helping neighbors. On summer afternoons, being in that pool or playing ping pong on the patio were my favorite places to be.

me in pool

Even as a teen, still in the pool

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