Thursday, April 30, 2009
Beyond epic fail
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This brand spanking new $200 million dollar Airbus 340-600,the largest passenger airplane ever built, sits just outside its hangar in Toulouse, France without a single hour of airtime.
They might want to rethink the brakes.
Plane meets wall...wall wins.
They might want to rethink the brakes.
Plane meets wall...wall wins.
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Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
When the saints come marching in
I fell the other day.
Yes, I have an “I fell and I can’t get up“ button, but this fortunately wasn’t worth summoning the paramedics.
The easiest (?) entrance/exit to our house is the side door that leads to our trashy carport. Problem – two steps only, with about a 7 inch rise. That’s always been difficult, especially as we age (gracefully, of course) and somehow the knees aren’t what they used to be.
The job became impossible for my weak arms and knees. Unless someone was around to literally haul me in, I just couldn’t leave the house.
So I fell, trying to get into the house by myself.. Fortunately, I fell into the house, but it took a solid half hour of my best swearing to crawl inside and eventually clamber into the recliner. Not much damage; slight sprain to a foor, a little wrench to a knee.
One of my BFF’s was taking me for a pedicure the following day, so I called her to put off the excursion – and told her why.
The next morning, Saint #1 (BFF’s hubby) appeared with big smile and a pickup full of power tools and lumber. He worked diligently, and by 1 p.m. – just look what happened –
The trashy mess on that shelf is just your imagination. The beautiful three steps and railing are real.
And I got a great pedicure the next day.
Saint #2
Mr. Andante’s father was killed in a coal mine accident when Mr. Andante was only five years old. He’s the second oldest of six siblings, including two younger brothers.
Male relatives did try to provide some male-type guidance and support – but for years, there was no ‘father figure’. The three brothers began to show a goodly streak of wildness.
Then came high school, and the chance to channel that wildness on the football field..
Coach Charlie Gregory was there for them, acting as a second father – knocking sense into their stubborn heads…and making them into the fine men they are today.
Coach was 77 years old, suffered a massive stroke and died Saturday.
The most significant line from his obit – “Born in High Point, Gregory came to Randleman and set up shop where he impacted young boys and girls throughout his career of over 30 years as a teacher, coach, athletic director, role model, driving force and friend.”
So long, Coach. Please accept blessings and love from a grateful wife.
You made my old man into the fine husband and father he is today.
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I fell the other day.
Yes, I have an “I fell and I can’t get up“ button, but this fortunately wasn’t worth summoning the paramedics.
The easiest (?) entrance/exit to our house is the side door that leads to our trashy carport. Problem – two steps only, with about a 7 inch rise. That’s always been difficult, especially as we age (gracefully, of course) and somehow the knees aren’t what they used to be.
The job became impossible for my weak arms and knees. Unless someone was around to literally haul me in, I just couldn’t leave the house.
So I fell, trying to get into the house by myself.. Fortunately, I fell into the house, but it took a solid half hour of my best swearing to crawl inside and eventually clamber into the recliner. Not much damage; slight sprain to a foor, a little wrench to a knee.
One of my BFF’s was taking me for a pedicure the following day, so I called her to put off the excursion – and told her why.
The next morning, Saint #1 (BFF’s hubby) appeared with big smile and a pickup full of power tools and lumber. He worked diligently, and by 1 p.m. – just look what happened –
The trashy mess on that shelf is just your imagination. The beautiful three steps and railing are real.
And I got a great pedicure the next day.
Saint #2
Mr. Andante’s father was killed in a coal mine accident when Mr. Andante was only five years old. He’s the second oldest of six siblings, including two younger brothers.
Male relatives did try to provide some male-type guidance and support – but for years, there was no ‘father figure’. The three brothers began to show a goodly streak of wildness.
Then came high school, and the chance to channel that wildness on the football field..
Coach Charlie Gregory was there for them, acting as a second father – knocking sense into their stubborn heads…and making them into the fine men they are today.
Coach was 77 years old, suffered a massive stroke and died Saturday.
The most significant line from his obit – “Born in High Point, Gregory came to Randleman and set up shop where he impacted young boys and girls throughout his career of over 30 years as a teacher, coach, athletic director, role model, driving force and friend.”
So long, Coach. Please accept blessings and love from a grateful wife.
You made my old man into the fine husband and father he is today.
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Friday, April 24, 2009
The End
GM to pull the plug on Pontiac
The brand credited with originating the muscle car will no longer be part of GM's future, according to a source.
There was a time when I thought my life was incomplete without a GTO Judge.
A black one, of course.
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GM to pull the plug on Pontiac
The brand credited with originating the muscle car will no longer be part of GM's future, according to a source.
There was a time when I thought my life was incomplete without a GTO Judge.
A black one, of course.
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Thursday, April 23, 2009
The Party of New Ideas?
Meghan McCain slams Cheney, Rove:
That's the spirit.
Democrats are quite used to coming up with the concept of new ideas.
Now all the GOP needs is some good, long-term ideas.
So far, all I think I've heard is we need a few guys running around screaming at cows to stop farting.
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Meghan McCain slams Cheney, Rove:
"You had your eight years - Go Away"
That's the spirit.
Democrats are quite used to coming up with the concept of new ideas.
Now all the GOP needs is some good, long-term ideas.
So far, all I think I've heard is we need a few guys running around screaming at cows to stop farting.
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Wednesday, April 22, 2009
How long before we hear this...
Who killed David Kellerman?
I'm betting on Michelle Obama with the Portuguese Pooch.
In the vegtable garden.
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Who killed David Kellerman?
I'm betting on Michelle Obama with the Portuguese Pooch.
In the vegtable garden.
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Saturday, April 18, 2009
Not pet picture of the day
This is Baby Molly of High Meadow Farm, just a ways down the road.
Ain't she sweet? A sweet little baby alpaca.
Baby Molly meets one of the farm dogs. Farm dog is a little skeptical, with good reason. He knows she'll grow up.
Here's Baby Molly with her elegant Mama, who certainly lost some of that elegance a about a week later.
It was shearing time.
Alpacas don't appreciate being sheared. You strap them to the side of a building as best you can to shear the first side, then switch them to the other side while they kick and SPIT viciously .
After Molly's Mama was finally set loose - still kicking and spitting - a randy male managed to catch up wiyh her.
Not a good day for Molly's Mama.
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This is Baby Molly of High Meadow Farm, just a ways down the road.
Ain't she sweet? A sweet little baby alpaca.
Baby Molly meets one of the farm dogs. Farm dog is a little skeptical, with good reason. He knows she'll grow up.
Here's Baby Molly with her elegant Mama, who certainly lost some of that elegance a about a week later.
It was shearing time.
Alpacas don't appreciate being sheared. You strap them to the side of a building as best you can to shear the first side, then switch them to the other side while they kick and SPIT viciously .
After Molly's Mama was finally set loose - still kicking and spitting - a randy male managed to catch up wiyh her.
Not a good day for Molly's Mama.
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The former Clown In Chief is in China
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Dear God
Bush said after he left the White House and moved into his new home in Dallas, Texas, he decided to take his Scottish terrier Barney for a walk. To be a good neighbor, he said he carried a plastic bag so he could clean up his dog's droppings. The task seemed ironic to him, he said.Yep."I was picking up what I had been dodging for eight years," Bush said.
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Friday, April 17, 2009
Old Fogey Friday Fun Night
What a great treatfor weary travelers!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UE3CNu_rtY
*****
And of course, ther's Susan Boyle, who wants to sing for the Queen.
The Queen should be so lucky.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY
Yep - you'll have to do the url's yourself. This little old lady is too tired to get it' at the the moment.
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What a great treatfor weary travelers!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UE3CNu_rtY
*****
And of course, ther's Susan Boyle, who wants to sing for the Queen.
The Queen should be so lucky.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY
Yep - you'll have to do the url's yourself. This little old lady is too tired to get it' at the the moment.
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Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Out of it
I've been somewhat out-of-the-loop for quite a while, and I have to admit this whole Teabagging business really had me confused.
I think I've got it now, though.
There are apparently some folks who don't like ANY taxes, and I sincerely wish them luck when their house is on fire and they're waiting on the neighborhood bucket brigade.
The majority seem to be protesting any taxes going to 'social' programs. I won't take them seriously worth a hill of beans until I see them refusing Medicare and Social Security.
Nor do the morans seem to realize they are protesting lower taxes on the middle class and almost as high as Reagan on the rich folks.
Ah, the informed electorate!
I hope I run into some today. I walk with a cane these days, and a good, old lady cane-whipping would do the lot of them some good.
Maybe not, but I'd sure enjoy it.
I've been somewhat out-of-the-loop for quite a while, and I have to admit this whole Teabagging business really had me confused.
I think I've got it now, though.
There are apparently some folks who don't like ANY taxes, and I sincerely wish them luck when their house is on fire and they're waiting on the neighborhood bucket brigade.
The majority seem to be protesting any taxes going to 'social' programs. I won't take them seriously worth a hill of beans until I see them refusing Medicare and Social Security.
Nor do the morans seem to realize they are protesting lower taxes on the middle class and almost as high as Reagan on the rich folks.
Ah, the informed electorate!
I hope I run into some today. I walk with a cane these days, and a good, old lady cane-whipping would do the lot of them some good.
Maybe not, but I'd sure enjoy it.
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Saturday, April 11, 2009
Easter tradition and deviled eggs
I really should apologize for the blanket "I'm fine" in the last post.
There are still serious physical issues going on. After all, they don't irradiate your brain because it's a greater priority than the growing need for stronger chemo or other torture to the old lung stuff.
But I AM fine mentally - as much as I can be, I guess - and spiritually. Gawd, it's a sorry way to find out you are surrounded by so many wonderful friends and family. I always figured they were there, but now I'm glad I wasn't always as bitchy as I might have wanted to be.
But this isn't supposed to be about me. "No coward soul am I..."
My childhood Easter began at least on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday with mournful services mandatory.
But Saturday was what I usually thought of as Hell Saturday.
That's when my mother went into a frenzy of pre-cooking and cleaning every last piece of china, silver, and crystal she owned.
Now, we might not have had much, but Mom treasured her precious stuff and we might drink powdered milk from a goblet, but she pulled it out for every holiday meal and set a fine fancy table for all that good southern country cooking. That good southern country cooking didn't now how to act against the finery, so we just had to eat it all. I mean the food.
And you-know-who had to polish and clean it all first. I mean the finery.
But the reward was Sunday dinner. After yawning through Sunrise Service, Sunday School and worship service, we got to hunt for all those dyed eggs that Mom wouldn't let us eat and take a bite off the chocolate bunny in our basket.
No more than that, as it was now Show Time and the minions (daughters) were summoned to stir gravy, mash potatoes, and carry the offerings to the table.
Out came Mr. Majestic Ham - purchased and hoarded long ago at the commissary, to be carved proudly by Master Sgt. Dad. It was yummy, but I sort of always envied my best friend whose family was feasting on their Easter rabbit.
But we always had a big tray of creamy deviled eggs which my sister and I fought over. It didn't matter how many Mom fixed...there were no leftover deviled eggs.
Until chemo stole my hands, I was a pretty good deviled egg artist myself. Please don't tell me about the fresh dill or whatever you add...my family has NEVER asked for that artichoke eggplant garlic surprise casserole, and never will.
Hard boil the eggs. If you don't get that much, there's not much point in going further.
I always put the required number of eggs - immense - in lukewarm water and let them sit for a half hour before boiling. Less chance of shell crackage. You could also poke a pin hole in the end of the shell for extra security, if you have the patience.
Boil eggs, and cool immediately under COLD water. If you don't, you'll be swearing for 24 hours and you won't have any deviled eggs, either.
Shell eggs, cut in half lengthwise. Pop the yolks into a bowl that's bigger than you think you'll need.
Mash yolks with a bit of mayo (get a life; use real fatty mayo). I added a squirt or so of Dijon or just regular old generic mustard and a bit of Ranch dressing. Maybe some salt & pepper. Just keep tasting and mixing.
Now plop a spoonful of yolk mixture into the egg white halves and arrange on a plate or tray or whatever.
If there are to be children present - STOP. Very important.
One year, when first-and-only born daughter was maybe four, we had a big family goat roping Easter in the back forty. Must have been fifty grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, kids, not to mention the usual assortment of in-laws and out-laws.
I knew my audience, which included about a dozen toddlers to six year olds.
I made about three dozen (that means 72) deviled eggs. Now, I like a little spritz of paprika on them for attractiveness, but I know kids don't. My mother in law forgot that important element.
She brought another big tray of lovely, paprika-sprinkled eggs.
When my kid sat down with me, her plate was full of my deviled eggs. My nephew sat down, too - with one paprika-sprinkled egg.
In a very audible 6-yr-old whine, while there was a lull in the general roar, he said "Where did you get the clean eggs?"
We haven't let Mom-In-Law live that one down yet.
My eggs were demolished, and between the adults and the dog my mother-in-law took home an empty tray.
I guess the moral is - never share the stage with small children or animals. They'll upstage you every time.
Mother-in-law will do the Easter tomorrow, but I made my yummy upside-down turkey for my own little family tonight. I am proud that I was able to do most of it myself, with many offers of help, but mostly on my own.
But now you'll have to excuse me - I can't get the cork back in the bottle, and I've just decided to swig it all down before it goes flat...
Happy Easter, and may all your shells remain intact through the boiling!
I really should apologize for the blanket "I'm fine" in the last post.
There are still serious physical issues going on. After all, they don't irradiate your brain because it's a greater priority than the growing need for stronger chemo or other torture to the old lung stuff.
But I AM fine mentally - as much as I can be, I guess - and spiritually. Gawd, it's a sorry way to find out you are surrounded by so many wonderful friends and family. I always figured they were there, but now I'm glad I wasn't always as bitchy as I might have wanted to be.
But this isn't supposed to be about me. "No coward soul am I..."
My childhood Easter began at least on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday with mournful services mandatory.
But Saturday was what I usually thought of as Hell Saturday.
That's when my mother went into a frenzy of pre-cooking and cleaning every last piece of china, silver, and crystal she owned.
Now, we might not have had much, but Mom treasured her precious stuff and we might drink powdered milk from a goblet, but she pulled it out for every holiday meal and set a fine fancy table for all that good southern country cooking. That good southern country cooking didn't now how to act against the finery, so we just had to eat it all. I mean the food.
And you-know-who had to polish and clean it all first. I mean the finery.
But the reward was Sunday dinner. After yawning through Sunrise Service, Sunday School and worship service, we got to hunt for all those dyed eggs that Mom wouldn't let us eat and take a bite off the chocolate bunny in our basket.
No more than that, as it was now Show Time and the minions (daughters) were summoned to stir gravy, mash potatoes, and carry the offerings to the table.
Out came Mr. Majestic Ham - purchased and hoarded long ago at the commissary, to be carved proudly by Master Sgt. Dad. It was yummy, but I sort of always envied my best friend whose family was feasting on their Easter rabbit.
But we always had a big tray of creamy deviled eggs which my sister and I fought over. It didn't matter how many Mom fixed...there were no leftover deviled eggs.
Until chemo stole my hands, I was a pretty good deviled egg artist myself. Please don't tell me about the fresh dill or whatever you add...my family has NEVER asked for that artichoke eggplant garlic surprise casserole, and never will.
Hard boil the eggs. If you don't get that much, there's not much point in going further.
I always put the required number of eggs - immense - in lukewarm water and let them sit for a half hour before boiling. Less chance of shell crackage. You could also poke a pin hole in the end of the shell for extra security, if you have the patience.
Boil eggs, and cool immediately under COLD water. If you don't, you'll be swearing for 24 hours and you won't have any deviled eggs, either.
Shell eggs, cut in half lengthwise. Pop the yolks into a bowl that's bigger than you think you'll need.
Mash yolks with a bit of mayo (get a life; use real fatty mayo). I added a squirt or so of Dijon or just regular old generic mustard and a bit of Ranch dressing. Maybe some salt & pepper. Just keep tasting and mixing.
Now plop a spoonful of yolk mixture into the egg white halves and arrange on a plate or tray or whatever.
If there are to be children present - STOP. Very important.
One year, when first-and-only born daughter was maybe four, we had a big family goat roping Easter in the back forty. Must have been fifty grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles, kids, not to mention the usual assortment of in-laws and out-laws.
I knew my audience, which included about a dozen toddlers to six year olds.
I made about three dozen (that means 72) deviled eggs. Now, I like a little spritz of paprika on them for attractiveness, but I know kids don't. My mother in law forgot that important element.
She brought another big tray of lovely, paprika-sprinkled eggs.
When my kid sat down with me, her plate was full of my deviled eggs. My nephew sat down, too - with one paprika-sprinkled egg.
In a very audible 6-yr-old whine, while there was a lull in the general roar, he said "Where did you get the clean eggs?"
We haven't let Mom-In-Law live that one down yet.
My eggs were demolished, and between the adults and the dog my mother-in-law took home an empty tray.
I guess the moral is - never share the stage with small children or animals. They'll upstage you every time.
Mother-in-law will do the Easter tomorrow, but I made my yummy upside-down turkey for my own little family tonight. I am proud that I was able to do most of it myself, with many offers of help, but mostly on my own.
But now you'll have to excuse me - I can't get the cork back in the bottle, and I've just decided to swig it all down before it goes flat...
Happy Easter, and may all your shells remain intact through the boiling!
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Monday, April 06, 2009
Stuff
First of all, I'm fine. A little more "quality time" in the hospital recently where they discovered some brain lesions - what's left of my brain is now being irradiated and it's a very effective treatment. My doctor has left for a 2-week vacation to Costa Rica (isn't that too bad?), so I get a very welcomed 2-week break from chemo.
All North Carolina will be quiet tonight as we bend our will to getting the Tarheels to the NCAA championship. I know, I know - it's a genetic defect, at least on my part. Something to do with a wild night years ago at the Rathskeller in Chapel Hill. Don't ask - I won't tell, and couldn't remember anyway.
From the Wish I'd Said That Department - remember (if you can stomach it) Limbaugh's appearance before that whatever conservative mugfest? Dave Letterman - "He gets up in Washington and he's the keynote speaker at some function and he comes up and he looks like an East European gangster, Letterman continued. "He's got the black jacket on, the black silk shirt and it's unbuttoned like, oh yeah, when you think Rush Limbaugh, you think, 'Ooh, let's see a little flesh.' Honestly. What is he doing?"
Barf.
I guess I'm some sort of heartless bitch, but I mourn the loss of centuries-old buildings almost as much as the loss of life.
Here's a treat for all us Old Farts (young ones, too) -
Jukebox--It's amazing
This a Jukebox; but it is no ordinary jukebox. It will play all of your favorite songs from 1952 through 1982. Each year has a scroll or drop down box that shows all the great songs for that year. Most years have over 40 songs. There is even a section at the bottom that allows you to listen to show tunes, TV show themes, Doo Wop and several others. This is pretty neat....and it is free. Read the rest of this and then click on the site at the bottom.
Once you click on a song it will play and when it finishes it automatically plays the next song in the list and continues until it has played all the songs. This is really cool!!! It has a volume control which you should use in conjunction with your computers volume control.
One of the best features is that it will play in the background. That means you can be doing other computer work on a different screen.
P ick and play any popular song from 1952 through 1982 or go to the specialty areas. You can't miss them. They are listed in very bright colors. That is for older eyes!!!
http://www.tropicalglen.com/
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First of all, I'm fine. A little more "quality time" in the hospital recently where they discovered some brain lesions - what's left of my brain is now being irradiated and it's a very effective treatment. My doctor has left for a 2-week vacation to Costa Rica (isn't that too bad?), so I get a very welcomed 2-week break from chemo.
All North Carolina will be quiet tonight as we bend our will to getting the Tarheels to the NCAA championship. I know, I know - it's a genetic defect, at least on my part. Something to do with a wild night years ago at the Rathskeller in Chapel Hill. Don't ask - I won't tell, and couldn't remember anyway.
From the Wish I'd Said That Department - remember (if you can stomach it) Limbaugh's appearance before that whatever conservative mugfest? Dave Letterman - "He gets up in Washington and he's the keynote speaker at some function and he comes up and he looks like an East European gangster, Letterman continued. "He's got the black jacket on, the black silk shirt and it's unbuttoned like, oh yeah, when you think Rush Limbaugh, you think, 'Ooh, let's see a little flesh.' Honestly. What is he doing?"
Barf.
I guess I'm some sort of heartless bitch, but I mourn the loss of centuries-old buildings almost as much as the loss of life.
Here's a treat for all us Old Farts (young ones, too) -
Jukebox--It's amazing
This a Jukebox; but it is no ordinary jukebox. It will play all of your favorite songs from 1952 through 1982. Each year has a scroll or drop down box that shows all the great songs for that year. Most years have over 40 songs. There is even a section at the bottom that allows you to listen to show tunes, TV show themes, Doo Wop and several others. This is pretty neat....and it is free. Read the rest of this and then click on the site at the bottom.
Once you click on a song it will play and when it finishes it automatically plays the next song in the list and continues until it has played all the songs. This is really cool!!! It has a volume control which you should use in conjunction with your computers volume control.
One of the best features is that it will play in the background. That means you can be doing other computer work on a different screen.
P ick and play any popular song from 1952 through 1982 or go to the specialty areas. You can't miss them. They are listed in very bright colors. That is for older eyes!!!
http://www.tropicalglen.com/
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