Can you dig it?

I showed up here today to snoop on my own blog.  I've been digging out grass that has gotten into my shrub bed.  I also dug up two shrubs (Emerald Snow Lorapetalum) which I am going to replace with two Purple Diamond Compact Lorapetalum and I needed to remind myself of the shape that my shrub bed was originally in once the landscaper came a few years ago and I remember posting pictures somewhere on this blog.  I've been very neglectful keeping up with the line of my shrub borders.  Anyways, the shrubs I'm digging out and the shrubs I am planting are both Southern Living varieties -- either cultivated by Southern Living or sold under their name -- I was enticed by the compact nature and color of these plants, not by the Southern Living brand, even though y'all know I'm all about some southern living, because hey, I was born here and my family keeps my heart chained to this humid, mosquito infested region of our great country.  It's only 9:44 a.m. on this fine rather cool by southern standards Saturday morning and I've already sweated at least one bucket of moisture from the top of my head.  I'm not a pretty sight at the moment.  My hair is flat on my head and I have black dirt smeared here and there.  It's beautiful dirt mind you, but its dirt just the same.  My yard is at least 80 years in the making, and someone got a good head start on creating the perfect dirt for nearly everything that will grow in the southern sun.  Even the worms love my dirt.  I don't mind them, but I can't keep up with the Virginia Creeper, Smilax and Florida Betony which are the bane of my garden existence.  

I think I'm procrastinating.  I still have work to do before the sun hits the spot I'm working in, so I guess I better find those photos I came here to find and get back out there. 

I hope y'all are having more fun on this fine Memorial Day Weekend than I am!

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There's fun elsewhere, but there's no place like home.

Want to appreciate your own home?  Visit a friend who doesn't live in a very cozy home.

Want your guests to feel comfortable in your home?   Give them a bedside table to place their personal small belongings.  Give them something or somewhere to place their luggage instead of the floor.  Give them someplace to hang a wet towel. Those are the things I missed when I was in Atlanta this weekend visiting a friend.

Even though I was glad to come home to my cozy home, I actually had a great time!  We went shopping, we dined out, we went to Mary's http://marysatlanta.com/ for Karaoke Saturday evening (a fabulous time was had by all -- those gay people really know had to make you feel welcome), we went for a light hike in what I think is the Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area http://www.nps.gov/chat/planyourvisit/islandford.htm

That would have been a great light hike, if my friend and I had not just eaten lunch.  I suggested we wait until after hiking to eat, but she's a eater, so we ate first.  I think I could have appreciated our surroundings better if I wasn't so aware of being full.  Hate to be so suggestive, but next time, I'm calling the shots.  


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Annoyance 058

Having to fight fleas even though I own no pets!  Damn those vermin!!!!! 






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No peeking ....

I see you peeked.  Now, who are you?  I know you purposefully search for me.  I just don't know who you are.  I guess that's okay,  technically this is a public place.  I'm just curious, are you curious about my ever growing curiosity in naughty sex acts?  Are you checking to be certain I haven't run off with your man or your woman?  Are you a virtual spy?  Do you think I harbor national secrets?  Are you interested in me for my money or the lack thereof?  Do you share my love of powdered donuts?  Do you know me?  Do you want to know me?  Are you a friend or foe?   

I know you're there.  I feel your presence.  I just can't hear all the things you never say.

If be ye friend ... welcome.  If be ye foe ... go.  

Soooooo friend, I'm planning a trip to Atlanta this weekend, and the plan is to stay with my friend at her cousin's home.  My friend has been in Atlanta down from Kentucky since Wednesday evening to interview for some jobs.  When she got up this morning and was ready to leave for her first interview, she realized that her car was gone.  Yep ... poof ... just like that, under the veil of a dark Atlanta  night, somebody stole her car.  What a thieving ass.  While this is so not about me, I now have reservations about staying anywhere other than a bolted garage.  Not that I drive a fine car or anything.  Actually I refer to my car as a $2.00 Honda because it's long been paid for and driven approximately 150,333 miles.  However, I am attached to what isn't attached to my car -- a PAYMENT.  If someone steals my car while I am in Atlanta, I will have to get a car payment, and then I'm gonna be pissed!

Since my car doesn't have an alarm on it, I wondered if I could just post this sign and hope for the best:

SNAKE INSIDE, if you think I'm joking, bust on in!
 
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50 shades of .... hot

For the memorial holiday I spent a week vacationing on Florida's forgotten coast (we like to be forgotten), more specifically on Cape San Blas.  While in paradise, I wiled away some of those days with the 50 Shades of Grey series ... sizzlin' hot hot hot ... and I'm not talking about the weather.   The weather was perfect considering Tropic Storm Beryl seemed a bit threatening.  Thankfully that storm mostly skirted around us.  Back to the book ... did I mention that in every other page the central characters were getting it on?  Call me Vanilla because I had no idea that people were actually into that kind of sexual activity.  While I probably had heard of it, I never gave it another thought, because I personally never encountered anyone who was into that sort of sexual activity.  I have to admit though, that the book piqued my interest (along with the interest of every other American woman who has read these books), so this week, I've been listening to various podcasts featuring BDSM (bondage & discipline) (sadism and masochism).  People who identify with this lifestyle have their own language and toys.  While I do believe I could enjoy some of their play techniques, I'm not sure I have the stamina or the pain threshold needed to go the distance.  However, if there was a real Christian Grey, and he was pursuing me, I think I could be persuaded to be tied up and flogged now and then (besides Pookie actually told me I was naughtier in bed than I thought I was.)  Hey Christian, if you or anyone like you exists, hit me up ... literally and figuratively.  Oh, and for all you other men out there ... you might want to learn a new trick or two.  I'm thinking bedroom expectations will soon increase by 150 percent.  

Laters baby,


Lickety Splitter



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Holy mother of happiness!

I just got news that the bane of my work life existence for the past 1.5 years has finally given her resignation.  Yes Virginia, there is a God!  A very good God! 

Y'all just don't know how excited I am right this very minute!  I want to shout this delicious news from the roof tops, but I can't, because my co-workers are not yet privy to this long awaited happening.  We have been praying, appealing to the goodness of the Universe, while at the same time wondering if we were endowed with the ability to wait her ass out.  We aren't mean, we just weren't impressed with her work skills or lack thereof, and her lack of integrity.  It's less than appealing to work with someone you don't trust.  Someone who tells you what the rules are, and then tries to make you feel bad about doing your absolute best to follow them.  Someone who has the bosses fooled.  That woman was lunatic incarnated.  I've never heard of anyone walking without making a sound, unless they were up to no good, and you would never hear her coming until she was breathing down your neck.  If you practice sneaky until you perfect it to an art form, you are either up to nary do well, or you are working with some "governmental" intelligence service.  I'm just grateful that she won't be sneaking anywhere around our office after the end of this month.  July is the month we celebrate American independence, and I'm gonna celebrate like it's 1999 plus 11 years, 6 months and how many ever days it is until she is finally gone.

Hallelujah!  My prayers have been answered!

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Oh happy day!

What?  Gone for who knows how long, and I come back to find my blog box looking like a foreigner. Is that how you spell foreigner?  I can't be too sure anymore, because I've been busy lately ... busy losing my spelling abilities.  Not all of them mind you, just the words that I rarely use.  Like foreigner.  Is that how you spell foreigner?  It looks right to me.  What do you think?  Wanna hear something even worse than losing select spelling skills?  Losing one's ability to pronounce words when one reads aloud.   Now, that's some scary business.  And, it actually freaks me out.  I suspect all this damn Splenda Diet Coke I drink may be pickling what brain cells I once had.  I never thought a soft drink would lead to the demise of my word skills, but I'm beginning to suspect it of doing just that.  It better watch out, because I just might go Columbo or Monk or even NCIS on its theiving ass.

I didn't come here to wail on about sliding down the mental hill, I really came to give a shout out to a sweet friend who has been going through a difficult time as her beloved father ails in health.  This is the same sweet friend who made it possible for me to enjoy a lovely seaside vacation last week.   I want my sweet friend to know that both her father and she are continously in my thoughts and that if she needs a thing, all she has to do is call.

On the lighter side of life, what I am most exited about today is my bedroom project.  As of today, its done, it's finally done, and if you wonder what's so fantastic about that, you would have to torture me to find out.  I'm proud of the completed project, because I personally put my blood, sweat and tears into it, but too much time passed before I decided that I had had enough ... and hired someone to put that cracked egg back together again.  They put it back together last October, and all I had left to do was paint the trim in the room ... by trim, I mean three doors including door casings, one fireplace, baseboards, crown moulding, and three "six over one" windows including window casings.  I had spent so much time in that room stripping the paint from all that molding, that the very thought of spending even one more moment in that room doing anything that resembled work, repelled me.  So, I called my repair guy back and told him that I wanted to hire out the trim painting.  He said he would handle that for me while I was on vacation.  Although I was nothing but delirious about being by the seaside for 7 days, every time I thought about my room being painted while I was lolling around reading that lust inducing book series 50 Shades of Grey, I could almost get orgasmic by the mere thought of my bedroom trim being painted.  Talk about excitement!

Can you imagine how I felt when I came home on Sunday from vacation ... greeted by the bedroom exactly as I had left it.  My excited expectation kicked me in the gut, and I didn't know what to do with the disappointment.  All I knew was that I felt like Santa Claus had made his rounds, but had forgotten to swing by my house.  I dissolved into a mess of tears, all the while knowing that the repair guy would eventually come through.  He's sorta sweet on me, so I knew he would come through, even if it didn't happen on the day he promised.  I rarely get excited about anything, so the fact that I had immersed myself in happy anticipation of my trim being painted each and every time I slathered on another layer of Coppertone, only led to intense disappointment which caused the tears to freely flow.  Those tears eventually dried ... and after two days with nary a peep out of me, that sweet man was at my house with painters in tow.  The painters finished up today, and my bedroom is now complete, eager and ready for nothing but the fun stuff.  Maybe, just maybe that sweet man and I will christen that room together ... I have some memories that I need replaced ;)  I say this, because when I asked him what I owed him for the work, he didn't mention money, and we are never short on flirting when we are together ;)

Oh get your minds out from under my sheets.

When I texted him this:  "Your guys and you have made one happy me!  They did a great job.  Many thanks and virtual hugs!  Now tell me what I owe you...." 

He texted back:  "A real hug."

Now you can peek again. 

I replied:  "If you want it, come and get it."

He then said:  "I'm all hot and sweaty.  You sure you want it like that? 

I said:  "Ooooh, that's exactly how I want it."

Game on people.  Game on.


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