Access denied for writing when tipsy

For whatever reason, I cannot access Bananawolf tonight. So be it. Probably the end of the ridiculous blog that signals the end and the beginning of a new era.

Today, I left the house at noon, knowing the freezing rain would be on my tail.

8 hours later, after go fish, trivial pursuit, and several cocktails, I am home.

What a lovely day.

I had a fabulous time, on this 2nd day of my new venture.

By the way, I rolled down the windows in the car, and the ice flew into my lap.

What the hell?

I must admit, however, that I had a brief period of slipping and siding away, tonight.

I wondered if I would ever be able to stand up again, as my hind end froze to the steps.

Luckily, I have been blessed with an ass that also serves as a mass destruction weapon.

Home now.

Thanks Pam, Todd, Patti and Don…. and GMax.

If this is any indication of my new life, watch out!

Loose cannon…. on the way!




Rituals are hard to break

Sunday afternoon:  This is the time of the weekend, that I usually start preparing myself for another work week.


Believe it or not, I am feeling guilty.

Feeling like I should be getting ready for work.

After all these years, I can’t get it into my head that I no longer have a job.

I wonder how long it will take.

I am teetering on the brink of becoming one of two things;

The stoned beach bum or the focused, industrious, purposeful, old bag.

I hope I land somewhere in between.

For today, I celebrated with tacos, fried dough, ice cream and cognac.

What a hoot.

Looks like I may be leaning towards the bum….

Until tomorrow,



Of all days for the weather folks to be right.

From inside, looking out, thinking:

“It looks beautiful out there.  I don’t see the trees bending from the wind.  The weather folks must be nuts.”


“What the W%TEW#%#%#%?  I can’t believe how cold and windy it is.  I am pumping gas and not sure I can wait for 8 gallons of gas to fill.  My hands are freezing.  And the wind!  Yikes!!”

Yes, it’s true: Things are not always how they seem.  You can’t tell a book from its cover.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Or some such thing.

I managed to keep my fingers intact, ran into the service station, bought a couple of power ball tickets and headed for the closest bar, for margarita pizza.

I am hooked on that crazy pizza:  The tomatoes, the cheese, basil and garlic.  Oh yeah.

Puff is not feeling well again, so I came home to make sure she was resting.  She was, all right, in my bed.  And she gets mad if I try to move her.

Back to reading for me, on this blustery, cold winter day, counting the hours til the warmup is in sight.

And to think I grew up in Minnesota.

Let me retract that:  I lived in Minnesota.

As you know, I have never grown up.



Operator? What day is this?

A decidedly different Friday, from most.

Wind chill warning with excessive gusts, all day, but mostly from noon to 3pm.

I had to decide:  Stay home with Puff for the wild ride…. or go out for lunch.

I stayed home.

The little heater I had, blasted us, until I had to remove one of my robes and Puff rolled off the fleece blanket onto the floor.

I felt smug.

Puff and I had survived the worst of it.

Then I got a text from Sissy Belle.

How about a hot toddy?

Game on.

We talked about life, about our futures and about retirement, all the while, laughing at our own short comings.

After a flat bread pizza, 2 hot toddies, and a couple of cognacs, I bundled up for the ride home.

Oh my.

It’s snowing, the wind is blowing, and you know what?  I kind of like it.

What a hoot.

So far PD and I have survived the arctic blast.

One or two more days of this frigid stuff, until the heat wave of 34 degrees on Monday.

Oh life is good, especially when you just take it as it comes.

Think about it.

January has its agenda and is there really anything you or I can do about the weather?

I remember when I was 16 years old, and working as an operator for Northwestern Bell.

“Operator, may I help you?”

“Can you tell me what day it is? and what year it is?”

I am only a step away from that call, now that I am retired.

I think it is Friday, Jan 5.

If not, does anyone really care?

Good night, all!





Mother Nature’s Fury

I would describe today as unsettling.

I took a look at the snow covered streets and driveway, felt the winds shake, rattle and roll this old house, and decided it was just too much for me to tackle.

I rarely torture myself with worry, but today, I did that.

The only escape from the reality of the winter blast was to grab a book and try to get immersed in a story.

Unfortunately, the story was ridiculous and I don’t think I  will finish reading the book:  A woman detective married to a billionaire, living in 2058, dealing with witchcraft and murder.  Dumb.  Really dumb.

I managed to sneak in a quick nap this afternoon, making sure Puff had extra blankets around her, as the wind continued to howl.

Munching on pepperoni and Italian cheeses tonight, bundled up in pjs and 2 robes.  What a frightful sight.

Oh, by the way, I am retired.

I can’t get too happy about that tonight, but I will lighten up, when this blasted storm moves on.

January 4, 2018:  What a pisser.


No fanfare, please. I love you all too much for that.

Going along… going along… cold, but no biggie.

Going along, going along.

Time to leave work.

Oh Oh!


No more going along.

The storm moved west.

It will consume those who were going along.

Winter weather advisory…. high winds, blowing snow, and all that jazz.


Now, what’s it gonna be boy?

Or Girl?

Do you love me?

Ooops wrong song.

My last day at work….. in jeopardy.


Celebrated with those who matter: Christine, Chris, Brian, Colleen,Potato Head, and Scott.

Storm warning….

You know this Chx B doesn’t do winter storms.

May I just say this about that?

I have always, secretly, wanted my last day to be like all the other days: no fanfare, no drama, no biggie.

Just another day, living it to the max.

I will remember this day as a typical day in the life of the chicken butt.

Good bye, my friends… for now…

We will meet again.

Friends, forever.

Wonderful memories.

Keep warm, as we recall the best of times…

Thank you, all of you, for being part of the last 14 years of my life.

I could not have asked for anything better.





Mary Jane is nothing but a crazy bar fly

Whenever I have had a few drinks, I sit down at the computer, and automatically type the same damn thing:  How now, brown cow?

What the hell is wrong with me?

Speaking of what is wrong with me, I have 3 treasures left on my desk: Yes, a treasure chest given to me a few years back, from Heather, a Hempz hand cream, Barb, you got me hooked on this) and a black book.

The treasure chest contains salt, pepper, ketchup, soy sauce, sugar, a Halloween mask, and assorted cold remedies.  Oh yeah, and a few old chocolates.

The Hempz?  Well, it is reminiscent of grapefruit and raspberries and is the most wonderful hand cream in the western world.

Finally, the black book:  I have all the log ins, passwords, and crap like that, most of which have expired, for every damn system in the universe, from Amazon, to Face Book to Lehigh Valley Health Network.

4 boxes are now sitting in my car.

Remnants of the days gone by.

Chickens, Christmas cards, photos, certificates, beavers…. you name it.

They are now totally frozen.

It was 12 degrees when I finally got the heck out of the bar, after taking on the greeter role, once again, agonizing over the freezing temps that the construction guys endured.

As they left, they said:  What’s your name?


Mary Jane.

Of course.

Nighty night all.


MJ, aka Wolfie


The keyboard drank my beer

What happens when you spill a beer on your keyboard?

Just ask me.

No typing.

No blogging.

Just a lot of crazy stuff that kept happening.  #%%%^@##%^$$^

It must have dried out over night…. or froze up is probably more like it.

There I was, in a nightgown, a pair of pajamas, 2 robes and socks, on the first day of the new year, with a boozy keyboard.

Back to work today.

3 to go.

How time flies.




Rumchata and cherries, oh my!

Sometimes when you have nothing special planned, special things happen.

On one of the coldest New Year’s Eve days in recent history, it was time to head out for a margarita pizza: Tomatoes, Basil, Cheese, Oil and Garlic.

It was heavenly.

No one except the old Chicken Butt in the place, waiting for the Eagles game at 1pm.

Then Carl walks in and since we were the only 2 idiots in the joint, we started chatting, drinking beer and watching the game.

“Hey Carl, let’s do shots.”

Chocolate covered cherries, rum chatas…. whatever !

Forget the cold.

All of a sudden, it was getting mighty toasty.

“Can someone turn on the AC please?”

For a few hours, the frigid weather melted away, as we laughed and carried on about nothing in particular.

A perfect way to spend a frosty afternoon.

Home now, and getting ready to bundle up in my new fabulous robe.

Will I see the ball drop?

Not a chance.

Besides, I have seen plenty of balls dropping in my lifetime.


Happy New Year, everyone.

2017 had its highs and lows, just like any year.

Regardless of the issues, I tried to enjoy every day.

After all, life is not always a chocolate covered cherry.

Or is it?



Countdown to 2018

5am, Saturday.


Breakfast club at 830.

Oh oh.


The driveway is covered.

The roads are covered.

Multiple accidents reported.

Back to bed.


Where am I?

Oh yeah.

What day is it?

Oh yeah.

I better get the snow off the car.

Jeans and a sweater over my pjs.


It’s pretty balmy out here.

17 degrees.

Off I go to the local pub for a bite to eat and to wish the local patrons a happy new year.

So happy I went!

Great crew, watching Penn State, sharing a few pints and wishing everyone a happy new year!

I love being with these crazy folks!

Snowing again.

Home early.

Feeling warm and fuzzy.

Good night all!