January thaw has been cancelled


I refuse to go out until my car thaws out.

Let’s say I go out, with scraper and brush in hand, and freeze my ass off.

Not gonna happen.

When the temps soar past the freezing mark, I plan to sit around and watch the snow melt off the car.

Besides, I don’t even know what day it is today.

I think I have been hibernating for at least most of the past 2 weeks, nursing this @%@%#@% cold and hiding from Jack Frost.

I am getting ready to watch a marathon of “Chopped” and Forensic Files”, while munching on dried apricots and pineapple, pretending I am in the tropics.

The only downside is that I am bundled up like a mummy on my tropical island.

Hoping to get back to my routine one of these days.

But who’s in a hurry?

Mother Nature has spoken.

And since I am older than Mother Nature, I have learned that there is not a doggone thing I can do about it.

It’s not over until the fat lady sings.

And it better not be “Baby, it’s cold outside.”






Good news from the frozen state of Minnesota

2 pair of pajamas, a sweat shirt and a robe.

What a beaut I am.

The wind is creating a snow globe out on the deck.

But there is good news coming from the frozen state of Minnesota:

Peter is out of  the 3rd surgery, and is resting comfortably with his new heart.

His 2 angels, Catherine, his sister, and Carol, his mother are keeping watch over him.

It is truly a miracle.

Meanwhile, back on the home front, it is going to be several days before I venture out, into the cold.

I have become a winter wimp.

Once upon a time,  I loved winter, ice skating almost every night after school.

-20?  -30?  It didn’t really matter.

Below zero was below zero.

Cold was cold, but just a way of life.

Contrast that with the bundled up goof, waiting for warm weather, before even thinking about going out.

That little girl with the ice skates?

She is only a memory.

We all change.

Some for the better, some not so much.

For me?

I moved out of the Midwest and my brain thawed out.

I ain’t going back, until Lake Superior’s ice is gone.

If , that is, I manage to get the heck out of here.








Snow just might be as good or as bad as you think it should be.

Snow pairs well with retirement, just like chocolate and wine.

But then, wine doesn’t need chocolate to be tasty, nor does retirement need snow to be satisfying.

My theory:  Snow days are what we think they are:  The self fulfilling prophecy, at work, in our minds.

Here’s the difference between pre and post retirement, reflecting on the snow.

Pre-retirement went like this:

Oh no.

It’s going to snow tomorrow.

I wonder how much snow.

And when is it supposed to start?

I may not be able to get to work.

The forecast is for 2-4 inches, but that is never right.

I think I better get up at 4am, to check out the roads.

And pack some pjs and clothes in case I can’t make it home.

Now, retired:

Someone said it is going to snow tomorrow.

Yeah, a couple of inches, maybe more.

Ask me if I care.

I am hibernating, until I feel like going out.

Maybe not until spring.

Actually, it is quite pretty.

I never realized how snow makes everything so quiet.

And it makes the yard and trees look like a winter wonderland.

I think I will heat up chicken noodle soup and kick back.

Maybe even watch an old movie.

And toast with a glass of wine and some chocolates.




Lemonade? forget it. Give me cervezas.

Remember that old saying:  When life hands you lemons, make lemonade?

I got so tired of my lemon hanging on like an albatross, that it was time for me to squeeze the damn thing.

Up early, to have breakfast and grocery shopping.

Cough, cough, cough.

I said to myself:  “Self?  Ignore the coughing. Go have lunch and a few hot toddies.”

And I did.

Ran into some of my all time favorite people again.

Even my little buddy Dana showed up.

Twilight zone:  420:  Time to drive home, put away the groceries and feed the ferocious Puff Daddy.

Geez, in my old age, this winter is sucking the living joy out of me.

Is it time to move to Arizona?  Or Mexico?

I better hurry if I want to get to Mexico, or I will have to attempt to climb the wall.

Besides, I don’t think Mexico wants me.

The last time I was there, all I could say was “Dos Cervezas por favor”, drinking my ass off.

As you know, man cannot live by bread, or in this case, cervezas, alone.

The Mexican government has my picture on the wall, stating:  Town Drunk not welcome.

Maybe I could tunnel my way out of here.





Life goes on

Craving eggplant parm today, with angel hair pasta.


MK and Philandy provided the early entertainment, while Colleen and Bobby were the main event, with Hot Todd as the closing act.

It was a relaxing, fun afternoon, even if the  probowl was not exactly exciting.

My question:  Why the probowl?

Bobbie:  Money.

$70K for the winning team members, 35K for the “losers”.

What a racket.

MKate concocted a few honey jack and tea drinks for me, for medicinal purposes, but my cough is just as strong, if not stronger than ever.

I left at 420, the bewitching hour.

I have a date tomorrow, with Hot Todd, on the gravy train, which follows his Monday ritual of chores.

I am holding vigil tonight, by candlelight, for my nephew Peter, who was back in surgery today.

“To everything there is a season.”

Things change.

Life doesn’t stop for anybody.

Until tomorrow,



Talking Heads? Or the Talking Ass?

First day out of the house in a week!

These winter colds seem to last forever.

I had to get the heck out, just to maintain the slightest bit of sanity that I had left.

Oh good!  Kait is at Specs and they are open for lunch.

Not much of an appetite, so shared my burger and perogies with the cute guy at the bar.

Next:  time to pick up day/night quil and Kleenex, before checking in with Kim, for hot toddies.

Hot Todd was there.

I asked him if anyone called him Toddie.

“Yes,” he said, “My girlfriend does.  My wife calls me Todd.”

He was wearing his fabulous FU shirt and hat, which I have always admired.

Not sure what university FU is, but I have my suspicions.

When the boys started showing up, I was on my 2nd hot toddie.

That is when Hot Toddie presented me with a package.

I now am the proud owner of an FU hat!!!!!!!

Damn!  It sure looks good on the old chicken butt.

The girls across the bar were celebrating something, and the place was humming.

The Drama Queen was in his usual manic mode, this time way over the top.

Deep Throat is slowing recovering, while Scottie is beyond hope.


Well, he might be losing his mind.

He was holding a ladder for a fellow worker, when he heard the guy’s ass talking.

Now, I have heard of the Talking Heads, but the talking ass?

“Hello? Hello? Hello?”

Seems the guy had his cell in his back pocket and somehow “butt dialed” a number.

When Tim ordered hot shrimp, I tasted them and turned into puff the magic dragon.


Now that is the real cure for sinus/colds.

One more toddie, and I said my goodbyes to Colleen and Pam, and went home wearing my FU hat.

Good bye, good night and FU!





It’s getting dark, too dark to see….

A few lyrics from songs that reflect how this coughing and sneezing is getting to me:

  1.  Oh what a night.
  2. It’s always the same, it’s just a shame, that’s all.
  3. Shattered, shattered.
  4. Old man, take a look at my life,  I’m a lot like you.
  5. Don’t let the sun go down on me.
  6. You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.
  7. Now I smell the rain, and with it, pain.
  8. I fell in to a burning ring of fire.
  9. After midnight, I’m gonna let it all hang out.
  10. Letting the days go by, water flowing underground.

And finally:  I would not feel so all alone.  Everybody must get stoned.



The half assed low carb diet

Phone rings:

I answer.

Open mouth.

Nothing but a squeak comes out of my mouth.

I had lost my voice.

It was the doctor’s office.

Can we schedule you for a low carb diet visit with a dietician?


Would you like me to make the appointment?
“Squeak, squeak.”

Is that a yes?

“Squeak, along with a prolonged coughing spell.”

How about if you give us a call when you decide?

And…. you got it, “squeak.”

After laughing (silently), and damn near freezing to death in this drafty old house, I decided to start my own low carb diet.

2 cutie clementines and a couple of kiffles.

I call it a half assed diet.

Half good,  half not so good.

Excuse me:  I have a wild craving for a croissant.

With blueberries:   Jam, that is.


The Wolf vs Winter

On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being the worst, Sunday was definitely below zero.

Combine a miserable sore throat and coughing, with the brutal weather, and there you have it.

However, there is always a silver lining :  The ice and snow did not materialize, as expected, and then there was the football.

Great games; great teams.

No, my favs did not win, but the games were 2 of the best I have seen all year.

A bad call sealed the fate of the Saints, ending their spectacular season.

Kansas City: Another great team, losing to the seasoned New Englanders.

Will it stop me from watching the Super Bowl?

Heck no!

But I doubt if my heart will be in it, as much as it was watching the games on Sunday.

MLK Jr day today:  A good day to stay home, out of the ridiculously cold and windy air, to honor one of our beloved heroes.

And to have a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows!




There is something about an approaching storm that brings people together

During a weather alert, I love to hang out with the locals, until the snow flies.

However, this time, no precip fell from the skies, as was predicted at 3pm.

I am wondering:  Does it rain or snow when the temp is 37 degrees?

Rather than concerning myself about snow and rain and all that jazz, Saturday afternoon was one of those delightful times when everyone came together.

We had been waiting for the impending doom, all day,

So far?

Still waiting.

Let it rip.

Get it on, bang a gong.

Get it on.

Time for the chicken butt to put on her nighty, flannel, of course, and to hibernate as the world turns.

The world was moving, she was right there with it, and she was.

Stay safe everyone!