Category Archives: Musings

weekly column of general observations

The Essentials in Life

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essentials

The longer one lives, the more one learns. At least that’s what I hear. But this has not exactly been my experience. Some of us didn’t get that memo so we’re still learning. And by us I mean me. I’m rapidly gaining ground on 63 yet I’m still realizing some essentials in life. You probably think I should know them all by now, wouldn’t you? Sadly, no. Now don’t get me wrong; I’m not a total loss. There are things I’ve learned. For instance…

One should always floss.

Brushing and not flossing is like taking a shower without using soap. What’s the point? You don’t think some of that ham sandwich you had for lunch is wedged between your molars? Think again. Flossing keeps your gums healthy, which keeps your pearly whites in your mouth. So basically, flossing keeps you from becoming toothless. Keep your teeth people!

flossing 2

Don’t buy the $7 a month Direct TV receiver insurance.

But if you do, like I did, just know that the month you cancel is the exact month your receiver will stop working. Never mind that you forgot you ever signed up in the first place, 9 YEARS AGO, because you never check your bill and could have bought multiple receivers by now with that $930. Generally speaking, extended warranties are not considered cost effective. You’re welcome.

Direct TV receiver

My $930 receiver

Just know that once you buy a new car, someone is going to ding your door in the Safeway parking lot. Continue reading →

Girls Week

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BNP sign

Every year in March my tennis friends and I head down to Palm Desert for the BNP Paribas professional tennis tournament. All the biggies are there; the best of the tennis world. It’s like attending a Grand Slam but only an hour flight from home. Yep, 6 glorious days of sun, fun, food, drinking, shopping, swimming, hot tubbing and of course, tennis.

bnp

With work and having 8 animals, I don’t get away too often. So when March rolls around, I get desert fever. But as soon as I pull out my suitcase, my dogs go into moping mode, lying on the bed watching forlornly while I pack.

My mutts are no dummies. They know when I’m leaving so might very well benefit from anti-depressants mixed in with their kibble. Instead, I try to trick them by packing when they’re not around. Now don’t get me wrong; they still seem to sense it. Like I said…they’re no dummies.

skip with callie

She’s leaving, isn’t she?

Continue reading →

Snowboarding: An Old Dog Learns a New Trick

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Originally posted in 2013

I was in my early 40s, waiting in a drugstore for a prescription, when I decided to use those 15 minutes and have my wrist scanned to determine my bone density. It was either that or shop for light bulbs. Decisions, decisions…So I get in line with a half-dozen women in their 60s. Confident I’d pass with flying colors, I hoped the technician wouldn’t embarrass me by his excited announcement (within ear shot of the others) that I had the bones of a 25-year-old.

Shortly thereafter, my fantasy faded and reality slapped me to my senses. Not only did I not have young bones but I was pulled aside and advised to speak with my doctor about getting a full hip and spine scan. Apparently, the results showed my bones were under the mistaken impression I was 65. Continue reading →

The Situation

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So here’s the situation. It’s 8:00 p.m. on Saturday night. I just spent the day cleaning my garage. Loads of fun. I’m grimy, dusty and full of chili because after I spent the day cleaning my garage I made a pot of veggie chili. Then I made macaroni noodles to put the chili on because that’s how my ex’s family did it in Kansas City. So since 1982, when we married, that’s how I’ve eaten it and now I can’t eat naked chili.

Anyway, now I’m stuffed. I also fed my animal crew and my foster cat, all of whom I assume are stuffed as well. My foster cat is nameless because I don’t permanently name them until I know they’ll be adoptable. I foster feral kittens and semi-feral cats. For some reason it’s harder for me to have to relocate them to outdoor homes (if they’re too feral to be adopted) after I’ve named them. Weird, huh?

So when I enter the room in which I’m housing a big orange tabby female, I say ‘Hey Boo Boo.” No reaction. Sometimes I say, “Hey Monkey.” But again, no response. I’ll try on a bunch of names during the time I’m fostering but once I realize that cat or kitten will be adoptable, a name will suddenly hit me and that’s the one that sticks.

Whats-Your-Name

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My Cat From Hell

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Remember a few weeks back when I blogged about my cat, Tippi, who had a major personality change? (When a Cat Loves a Woman.) Being a tortie, she can be a bit of a bitch if you want to know the truth. Now don’t get me wrong; she’s a good bitch. Tippi holds her own among my 7 other pets and she’s the tiniest of them all, so it’s essential she not be a pushover.

Tippi2

Tippi probably weighs 7 lbs soaking wet, although she’s never soaking wet. Since I value my life, I’d never give a tortie a bath. Do you think I’m an idiot? That’s a rhetorical question but I suspect you were quick to answer. Still, my 7 lb. kitty has absolutely no fear and I just love that about her.

You should see Tippi in action. My cat, Fat Jack, who causes all kinds of mayhem by frequently pouncing on my other two felines, Savannah and Oliver, always gives a wide berth when strolling by Tippi. And he’s twice her size. She scares the bejeebers out of him…just another thing I love about her.

Jack eating 3

Why he’s called Fat Jack

Continue reading →