Archive for September, 2015

When in doubt (or bored), meta

Wednesday, September 30th, 2015

metaphotoIt is fall. I couldda gotten away with wearing tights today. And a turtleneck sweater. Got my eye on this J.Jill skirt but not sure if I would really wear it. I think the basic color is dark/navy/whatever blue. I don’t dislike that color but my basic color (for bizcaz, anyway) is Black As the Ace of Spades so I don’t really want to start trying to deal with *another* basic color. The idea is to keep the Landfill Closet lean and mean. It looks like there *is* some black in the skirt. Still, not sure if it would make it into my Regular Rotation. Need thinking time.

The “patient”? Took yesterday and today off. Walked downtown and back today. I’m not all that crazy about the “back” part of that but he seems to be doing well. It is important to be active post-surgery (as we were told) but the issue with the GG can be *how* active is active. 17-mile hike? Nooooo. But it is only two miles or thereabouts to downtown so down and back is four altogether and although there are a few little hills and a small woods trail if you choose to walk through Miller Woods, walking to downtown on The Planet Ann Arbor is a stroll in the park compared to the rugged trail between the falls at Tahquamenon, which features long steep uphills, etc. I was very proud of myself last weekend that I could pretty much keep up with my children on the Tahq trail without getting all sweaty and out of breath. Or maybe they were just humoring me. I know that they are capable of hiking/climbing much more difficult trails.

Where was I? The GG is going to work tomorrow and that is significant in a couple of ways. One is that he is feeling well enough to go to work and the other is that they are not shutting down the damn government this year (at least not tomorrow). I have been trying to get used to the idea of having him home during the day. He earned his keep with me today via taking a short grokkery list to Meijer to get some things that the Plum Market doesn’t carry. Why oh why did I not also ask him to take back the growing number of bags of returnables I’ve been storing in the Ninja? I do not know. Returning cans and bottles is usually a Garbage Woman task but truly, anyone can do it.

I’ll end with a little story about The Commander. During the last couple years of her life, the Soo Supervalu grokkery store set up some bottle return musheens outside the store. OUTSIDE! IN SAULT STE. SIBERIA! IN THE WINTER! That wouldda been okay with me. It was not okay with The Commander. She marched her returnables inside and said something like, “I am not gonna use that thing.” Of COURSE, they took her bottles back at the cashier’s station (they are required to do that anyway if you ask). The Supervalu was good to her on other occasions. Like the one where she forgot her credit card and the cashier rang up her grokkeries ANYWAY and let her leave without paying for them, knowing that their elderly [frequent] customer would be back with the money. And that elderly [honest] customer did come back with the money and many apologies. That’s how things roll in a small town like Sault Ste. Siberia.

What color did I get?

Tuesday, September 29th, 2015

Can you guess?


Not really all that excited. Here is my post when we got our first iPhones back in 2007. It was pouring rain the day we bought them and it poured most of the next day, during which Mouse and I did Senegal related errands and then I picked up UKW at Metro and we headed north. I don’t remember the photo being as fuzzy but whatever.


MMCB took the first pic on my first new iPhone back in 2007. We were at Barry Bagels and it was an accidental photo and she was soooo apologetic. I loved it and kept that photo on my phone for a long time but eventually it disappeared.


Mercury Retrograde Weekend

Monday, September 28th, 2015

So, at 0-skunk-30 Friday morning, I was in the Blue and Only and an incoming text said something about being in the “Sault hospitdl”. I calmly schlepped the clean cabin laundry into the Ninja, ate a half-bowl of Cheerios and headed north. I was already in the process of packing to go north at 0-skunk-30 on Friday but my destination shifted 60 miles to the east. If I am gonna be at the Sault “Hospitdl”, I will most likely have a chance to take the damn laundry to the cabin.

Without giving TMI, yes, there was a Surprise Appendectomy on Friday afternoon. At War Memorial “Hospitdl”. Where I was born umpteen gazillion years ago (and initially had my broken pinky evaluated and splinted this summer). Again, without giving TMI, this was kind of a drive-by deal, where the “donor” was in and out in a wee bit more than 12 hours. Yay for laparascopy is about all I can say. Here we are in our loverly room at the Hotel Ojibway post-surgery. The GG is talking to one of our nieces (I think he called two of them that night) and I am taking a photo through the mirror to show to the beach urchins and others that he is alive and well and not languishing in a “hospitdl” bed at WMH. After I took this photo, we walked next door to the Palace Saloon, where he ate a cup of soup and drank some water. Yes.


I have to say that, at the end of that day, there were so many storms of text and other messages that I kind of lost track. Add to that the “interesting” messages that the “patient” himself sent when he was feeling fiiiiine and random selfies from some people at the Cozy Inn 🐸. If you messaged me in any way and did not receive an intelligible response, I apologize!

Against all odds, we managed by hook or by crook to join our North Country Trail buddies at Tahquamenon late Saturday morning. We had two vee-hickles and one fully functional driver in Sault Ste. Siberia and The Commander’s house has not been an option for dropping off a car for a few years although my brain kept going there… After running through various scenarios in my mind, on Saturday morning, I decided the GG was okay enough to drive the Frog Hopper out to the moomincabin. While he visited with Pete, I dropped off the Ninja for the weekend, then I drove us up to Tahquamenon.

The GG was well enough to hang out at our NCT chapter’s table at the lower falls. I hiked “solo” from the lower to the upper falls. I had so much fun. I ran into all kinds of people including the UU (the GG’s identical twin) and NCT folks and just all kinds of other folks. At the upper falls, the Beach Urchins were waiting! They had come up to help us schlep vee-hickles home. They had planned a Sister Camping Trip for the weekend to explore the Lake Michigan shore in the lower peninsula but they were concerned enough about their dad to change those plans and drive to the yooperland instead. And you know what? It was GORGEOUS in the yooperland this weekend. It felt like summer.

We all camped at the Tahquamenon State Park Rivermouth campground. We had the Lyme Lounge in the section with lucky-shucky. Our daughers chose tent camping in the more rustic section. I cannot describe how beautiful the Rivermouth campground is, so I will just post the pic below of my kids’ silhouettes down by the river on Saturday evening (can anyone guess what those round things are attached to the “kid” on the right?)


The GG and I had originally planned on driving back on Sunday but, given the circumstances, we both decided to take Monday off. Therefore, we were at the Rivermouth campground last night and were able to watch the total eclipse of the moon from the empty campsite next door to the beach urchins’ campsite. So beautiful!

Once today, twice tomorrow

Sunday, September 27th, 2015


Hiking between the falls alone was so much fun yesterday that I did both ways today. I had company this time. All is well. When we pick up the Ninja tomorrow, maybe I’ll use the wifi there to post a pic. Wonder of wonders, I accomplished that at the campground this morning. Update: Well, except that, when I got home to The Landfill today and looked at my blahg on my actual laptop (which I haven’t used since early Saturday morning), I realized that the hiking pic in this entry was sideways. I THINK it’s because it was a “portrait” oriented photo uploaded via my [old] iPhone. Should be fixed now.

Quick while I have some service

Saturday, September 26th, 2015


Beautiful solo hike between the falls today. All is well. KW is taaarrred.

Unintelligibility from the Hotel Ojibway

Friday, September 25th, 2015

About all I have to say is that War Memorial seems to have some kind of strange hold on my family. All is well here in Sault Ste. Siberia and no it did not involve me or Titanium Pinky (who drove the Ninja and its 6-speed manual transmission the five hours it takes to get up here with the aplomb of the Flute Finger she once was and is going to be again soon!)

P. S. The moon is bee-yoo-ty-ful tonight. Wish you were here! 💜

(Oh my, I just caught myself acting like The Commander. You don’t want to know.)

Luuuuuv blahg [snort 🐗]

Thursday, September 24th, 2015

yarnsnakesHow many times did I say “I love” [this, that, or whatever] in yesterday’s blahg? Kee-reist. Whether you are one of my nine regulars or some poor soul who stumbled along looking for something else, all I can say is something like, “Ya pays yer money and ya takes yer chances.” — Sam (archaeologist, not dog, sometime back in the day but I bet she still says it).

Why do I bother slapping some words up here day after day after day so a few people who obviously do not have enough to do can watch the paint dry? I do not know. I have no interest in a writing career (although writing skills are necessary for ANY job in the info tech industry and probably quite a few others). I just like to journal. I never got along with keeping a written diary but somehow, when the internet came along, I couldn’t keep my hands off the keyboard. Yes, let’s tell everybody all about my life and I’ll post some pictures too. If I can, that is. Back in the 1990s, posting a photo to the internet was more often than not an exercise in total frustration (and it may be that way this weekend since I’ll be hanging around up at Tahq).

What do I have to offer here? Well, usually the spelling, although there are those moments when I omit and/or insert an apostrophe in a word that needs one or doesn’t. I know better and I am always mortified when I make those kinds of mistakes because spelling was something I was always good at as a kid and I remember clearly the “there/their/they’re” and “its/it’s” worksheets we got in second grade or whenever it was. I got 100% on just about every spelling test I ever took as a kid, yet I still make these kind of mistakes. I correct that kind of stuff but how the heck do you delete a whole crapload of “I love” stuff out of yer boring old paint-drying blahg. Tomorrow will be [today is] a new day. Onward.

Writing? I occasionally look back through the years, usually when I am looking for something like Mike Cat. Sometimes I used to be funnier. Sometimes I used to be more boring. I used to be… I am just a baggy old kayak woman making her way through life and writing about the parts that she can write about, sometimes more entertainingly than others.

Love y’all, especially those of you who have bothered to keep up.

Should I read this book?

Wednesday, September 23rd, 2015

infinitejestWhen I go to art exhibits, I am capable of looking the “part” of the art intelligentsia, if you will. I’m pretty sure I don’t look like the kind of art intelligentsia person that The Commander taught me to be but I do fit in. The problem is that, although I like going to art exhibits, I usually do not have a clue in hell. As much as I LOVED our trek over to the Cranbrook Art Museum last Sunday and as much as I wanted to spend a day in DayTwa with my daughter, I struggled because I also wanted to go out and hike somewhere in the woods. Nick Cave’s exhibit (and Lizard Breath (and the Green Dot)) won and, of course, I loved the exhibit.

It was a bit difficult for me when we went down to book exhibit in the basement. I LOVED the exhibits down there but the young docent on duty down there kept trying to explain things to me. He was wonderful and he was just doing his job but I was kinda like mumble mumble. I think he thought I might be an art-type person. Little did he know I didn’t really understand a word he was saying. For one thing, there were a few handmade books that we were encouraged to actually touch (except that they were fragile). I was confused. There’s a rule but there’s a contradictory rule (touch but don’t touch). And then, there is Titanium Pinky. She is doing REALLY REALLY WELL! but somehow in some way that I cannot put into words, I was afraid to touch the touchable books with TP. Since I could not in any way put this feeling into words, I chose not to share it with the young docent. My pinky does not LOOK broken any more and I didn’t figure he would understand my reticence about touching touchable books. Or maybe I should’ve said something…

I have never been to Cranbrook before. I loved our trip over there and I loved the campus and the museum and I will go back there. If you can get me outta the dern woods.

I named it “cat”. That’s why I couldn’t find it.

Tuesday, September 22nd, 2015

Not sure if I had anything interesting to blahg about or not today but whatever may have been in the hopper got displaced by Pengo’s facebook post about how one of her cats (Simcoe) sat on her homework. Which meant that she couldn’t turn her homework in and her teacher didn’t believe her so she’ll flunk the class and never get the PhD she’s working on. Of course I am kidding about all of that. As if! But it reminded me of when the character below would come along and sit on my virtuoso-type flute music sheet as I was trying to play it.


Man oh man, did it take me a long time to find this photo. I knew I had it. I searched for “Mike” and “Muksaslouie” and “Muksaslooie”. Nada. Guess what? The photo is named “cat”. Who’da thunk I would name a photo of Muksaslouie “cat”? Jeebus. (If the Guru sees this, he will be shaking his head and muttering about tagging and yada yada and he is right but KW would need to implement the dreaded “R” word to find the time to nitz around with photos. Siiiiiighhh…)

So this big badass-looking cat was actually a badass cat. He ate aminals! Mice and squirrels and moles and whatever. I have mentioned him before. Technically, he belonged to my cousin but we were all young then and she left him with her parents, who doted on him as did the rest of us. Even The Commander (not a cat lover) used to let him into the moomincabin when she felt that I had been abed a wee bit too long so that he could walk on my head. Yes, it did wake me up. And I couldn’t even get mad because it was my fave CAT!

Below is me with Muksaslooie and I can’t exactly remember the circumstances (but I know that it was after I got married because I got that sweater in Nova Scotia) but I am pretty sure he was about to bite me. He didn’t put up with a whole lot of you-know-what and I’m sure I deserved it!


And so, how does a cat manage to walk on your music when you are practicing the flute? It is because yer fav-o-rite blahgger had the laziest flute playing posture on earth when practicing. At least at the moomincabin. She knew better and definitely stood to play when practicing at college. But here I am and I wonder if that yellow milk crate that I used to keep my music in is still around. (It’s probably down in the Landfill Dungeon…)



Monday, September 21st, 2015

owlyAnd so it is the end of summer. We closed the moomincabin on Labor Day weekend. A little bit early but no one else indicated that they wanted to use it and we weren’t sure we could manage to get back up there between Labor Day and the Drop-Dead weekend, which is about the second weekend in October. When Mother Nature says something like, “If you do not button that place up, I am gonna hit you with a blizzard”. It is the Yooperland. Sh*t happens. If we lived 15 minutes away (like my parents did) or even a couple hours away, we could hang loose and take a quick drive up to close it if the weather looked threatening. Five hour drive and full-time careers? Not so much. Sorry.

Closing the cabin is not a big deal. After my parents retired, they stayed at the cabin hanging around with Radical Betty, etc., until sometime in October. Their signal to move back to town was when they encountered a wee bit of snow either on the ground or in the air. Okay, let’s go. They would drain the water, turn off the lucky-shucky, put the storm windows on and go. It takes a couple hours to close that place up.

This year, on our chosen closing weekend, we hosted some of our Sherman friends over at the Old Cabin, which is the log cabin my grandparents built in 1924. Yes, it is going on 100 years old. I was born when it was 30. And that makes me… Okay…

I use the term “host” lightly because my childhood friend Dan did all of the heavy lifting for hosting his family members on our beach. I provided a sewing needle and thread to his lovely cousin Lee, who I hadn’t even met before. If you knew The Commander, you know that she left sewing supplies behind and that her sometimes wayward daughter (who does know how to sew) *kept* a nice little container of sewing supplies at the moomincabin for just such an occasion. Note to self, what I had worked but we need a wider variety of hand-sewing needle sizes up there. It’s okay to have more than enough needles. Take some up.)

None of the usual Old Cabin inhabitants were up there when the Shermans were there but they graciously lent their cabin to our guests and npJane and I collaborated on schlepping the aftermath, laundry and recycling, mainly. I think npJane and I even “argued” a bit (with laughter dominating the “argument”) about who would do the laundry. I won. I know that most of it came from the moomincabin and what little came from the Old Cabin will be easily sorted out. (Sssh. Don’t let anyone know that there might be a few bits and pieces of Old Cabin laundry here at my house. You guys will get it back.)

I also sorted out a bunch of recycling, retrieving the egg cartons that I can drop off at work and a few returnables. I am programmed to do this kind of stuff and I usually smell like beer after a fun recycling session like today’s 🐸.

Good night,
Garbage Woman

Dragging Woodward in Ruby with the Ninja in hot pursuit

Sunday, September 20th, 2015

The GG and his sibs (all 10 of them) grew up in Royal Joke a few blocks from the legendary Woodward Boulevard, so they have many many many memories of that thoroughfare. Going to school and church at the Shrine of the Little Flower. Walking over to Woodward to get candy at the gas station and maybe even find a nice boyfriend there. Taking buses down to Daytwa and across (or under) the river to Cananananada and usually getting sent home (the Twinz of Terror did that anyway).

Growing up in Sault Ste. Siberia, we dragged Ash (or slashed it, depending upon your high school era). Ashmun was a whole heckuva lot shorter than Woodward and Woodward is a lot faster and scarier these days than it probably was back in the day.

Anyway, we began our outing today by driving over to the Cranbrook Art Museum to meet Lizard Breath and see the Nick Cave exhibit. Google it if you care. I am taaarrred. But here is yer fav-o-rite blahgger checking out part of the exhibit.


Cranbrook is way north of Detroit in the wealthy Bloomfield Hills suburb. Google it if you care. Beautiful school and museum. I rode with Liz in Ruby from Cranbrook down to Detroit. Should we take the Lodge Freeway or Woodward, moom? It was a gorgeous day and, on a whim, I said, “Let’s take Woodward!” So much fun. Here we go, quite a bit south of Bloomfield Hills and Cranbrook, entering the city of Detroit. Look at that beautiful sky!


On down into the “inner city” past a crazy looking police-type situation and the DIA and MOCAD and eventually we got to our fave Green Dot restaurant, following a red-light-running incident (someone was channeling Grandroobly) and a loud rock’n’roll singing thing that I wish I had a pitcher of. “Talkin’ ’bout my generation.” Liz may have wanted to take us somewhere else to eat but the GG was expecting Green Dot and that’s where we went. It is a loverly place where you can choose as many sliders or sides as you want. I got three sliders today: quinoa (yes I eat that stuff), mystery meat, and catfish.


Home again jiggety-jig and soooo taaaaarrred but took a walk to re-energize and then nPJane stopped by to drop off moomincabin laundry that we didn’t have room for after Labor Day and a wee bit of whine, commiseration, and laughter before we all have to jump back into the Adult World after this beautiful weekend.

Hope your weekend was good. Love y’all, KW.

Should we do this with the Blue and Only Terlet?

Saturday, September 19th, 2015

goldterletAll right! It is Saturday on the Planet Ann Arbor and it is a Football Saturday! I did not walk down to the farmer’s market this morning and lived to regret it. The problem? Thunderstorms in the area off and on throughout the night. Nice non-severe storms but I am not all that great at interpreting weather radar maps and could not tell if we were gonna get more of them or not so I hitched a ride with the GG. It turned out that I’d’ve had a dry, non-luckyshuckyal walk down there so I was pretty annoyed at myself.

It was all right though. For the second Football Saturday in a row, we hoofed it downtown for a beer and lunch at the Grizzly. It seems that we are becoming regulars there as we are now on a first name basis with the (lovely) bartender. I think this is a good habit to continue, as it fits in well with my weekend goal of walking as many miles as possible in between doing my chores. I did *not* do a good job on my chores today. I did *not* accomplish a comprehensive cleaning of the Blue and Only Bathroom. I think that’s partly because I know darn well its days are numbered but it is still not a good thing because we have to *use* The Blue and Only as is until around Thanksgiving and I do not like dirty bathrooms. That said, there are areas of The Blue and Only that were not what I’d call clean when we moved in (before our first child was born) and, as they are more or less un-cleanable, at least by yer fav-o-rite blahgger, I have learned to ignore them. Kami says the new floor and wall tiles will be installed with minimal space between them, so less opportunity for dirt and mold, etc.

A trip to the dump was also in order. Actually two trips, since we got there before it opened on the first attempt. And it wasn’t really the dump. It was the re-use center. They actually wanted the cloudy old glass panes from our Doorwall Glass Replacement Prodject and even some old completely flat Trashmobile trailer taaaarrrs. People might use those taaaarrrs for planters. Yes. As you can see, people use all kinds of artifacts for planters. I’m not sure I want to use the Blue Terlet for a planter but Someone seems to want to keep the dern thing, so we’ll see. Being that we live on The Planet Ann Arbor, it’s doubtful that anyone would bug us about keeping a terlet in the yard. Or a Bathtub Madonna but we’ll talk about those some other day.

The GG is cooking a chicken on the grill tonight. He has been chomping at the bit to cook a chicken on the grill but last weekend was too soon because he cooked a chicken on the grill up at the moomincabin on Labor Day weekend. It has now been two weeks and so I guess it is okay for him to cook a chicken. And a squash. And we’ll have penne with pesto (basil from the market) and fresh lima beans (from the market) and a simple green salad. And Mouse is coming over! Yay for Mouse!

Six-speed manual transmission!

Friday, September 18th, 2015

mirrorI pulled in to my regular parking space this morning just as Louie-Louiiii was pulling his fancy new Jeep Wrangler Rubicon into *his* parking space. He NOTICED that I was driving my Ninja! He said something like, “You must be feeling better to be driving that vee-hickle”. He meant that Titanium Pinky and the hand she is attached to feel better, of course, not KW overall (although it is amazing how one teensy tinesy broken bone can affect an entire person’s body and sense of well-being).

Louie-Louiiii is a car freak and he notices what vee-hickles people own. I’ll never fergit when the Ninja was relatively young (we bought it new in 2008) and Louie-Louiiii approached my cube one day asking if he could ask me a “personal” question. Hmmm. Well okay. Why not? “Is that Honda Civic SI 6-speed manual *your* car?” I love L-L (in a co-worker kind of way, of course) and I just about cracked up. I mean, the GG and I own vee-hickles jointly but it is true that I tend to gravitate toward driving the Ninja more often than not. I *think* that L-L was a bit flabbergasted that a baggy old bag would prefer to drive something like the Ninja rather than, oh, I dunno what, a top-dollah Honda Accord (like my old Dogha) or some sort of soccer theatre mom vee-hickle like my old POC or a [loverly] Subaru Outback like the one I’ve been driving the past month or so because I couldn’t drive stick with a damn broken pinky.

Not only did I drive the Ninja to work today, I dipped out at lunchtime to sign on the big black line over at DreamMaker. The pic is Kami’s from a week ago of yer fav-o-rite blahgger and her chosen mirror. I look a bit upset (or grumpy or whatever) in the pic. I am not. I am merely in the throes of making an Executive Decision. This mirror’s brown/black/gold frame will riff off our new black-stained cabinet doors nicely.

Walked downtown to the Oscar Tango and back on this beautiful warm September evening. So many people outside in the neighborhood tonight. How many warm nights are left to us? Here’s Sting with one of my fave songs ever, Fields of Gold (probably preceded by an ad, sorry).

If we meet again, I hope it’s at the mall!

Thursday, September 17th, 2015

workpondSecond and last visit with the occupational therapists today. Couldn’t get Heather this time but I loved Ida just as much. She immediately started talking about that head transplant article that I keep seeing on the side of my facebook timeline (or whatever the heck it is). Apparently it’s real? At any rate, they are having a laugh over there at the bone doc’s office. We segued from there to the rich man’s version of texting via a Rolls Royce with a built-in pipe organ that you can play from the driver’s seat. We overheard this via another patient and Ida was googling like crazy. It’s okay, she was also multi-tasking, as she had me all wrapped up in towels and hot pads of some sort and was waiting for Titanium Pinky to “cook” before she got to the point of “manipulating” it. That was my word and she spooked a bit at that and said the word “courtroom’. I told her I would NEVER take her to court but I know that kind of thing happens because well, there are people who will sue someone or some entity whether they have a valid reason to or not. I don’t think that my OT has been in court. I think that the Umich health system has experienced something like this and has advised everyone how to be careful to avoid court. Sigh.

Anyway, we had fun with Titanium Pinky and I “graduated” to a couple of additional exercises and a “buddy” thingy to use during my hand exercises to make sure my fingers re-learn how to make a proper fist without any crossover. Since I have to drive the Ninja next week anyway, I am doing an experimental trip to work with it tomorrow. I will be okay *anyway* but I think that the new buddy thingies will help. Yikes! Rocks had shoulder surgery a while back and her ex would not trade vee-hickles with her so she was reaching over with her left hand to shift. 1) We all take things like driving for granted and 2) I can’t even imagine being married to someone who wouldn’t let me drive the automatic until my finger healed, let alone days when there is too damn much ice on my commute for the Ninja’s performance taaaars to handle.

Before my first OT session, I filled out a form about my injury. There were lots of questions about how much pain doing various activities caused. You know the 1-10 pain scale, roight? My answers were 1 at the most. I have not had a lot of pain throughout this whole thing and I am not stupid enough to try to do things that I KNOW will stress my finger enough to cause excruciating pain.

Do I care about my hand’s appearance? I was initially puzzled by that question because I have always loved how my fingers looked. They are strong, flexible, functional fingers and I have used them to do many things in my life, including some specialized things like playing musical instruments. I quickly realized that there are probably many folks who are dealing with the kind of arduous multi-surgery process involved in re-building a completely mangled hand. My heart goes out to them.

That said, Ida and I were talking about the wrinkles that we all have at our knuckles and wrists. Apparently some folks (as they age?) get freaked out about those wrinkles and want plastic surgeons to remove them or smooth them out or whatever. I LOVE those wrinkles. They aren’t really all that different than they were when I was a child. They are there for the purpose of allowing us to bend our fingers at their joints. It would never have occurred to me to ask someone to remove those wrinkles.

At the end, we bid farewell and Ida said that if we met again, she hoped it was at the mall. I don’t go to the mall (unless I am forced to go to the “genius” bar) but she doesn’t know that and I got the point!

Morning Glory story. What?

Wednesday, September 16th, 2015

morninggloryThe morning glories seem to be more successful out by the telly-phone pole than they are back by one or another of our beautiful arbors. Don’tcha just love when you take a photooo and it gets photobombed by some hapless insect. To be truthful, I knew there were ants crawling around on that fleur, I just wasn’t working very hard to capture any of them in the photo. I was interested in getting the FLOWER in the pic and I was annoyed that the doggamn STREET was in the background. That ant is a bonus!

Anyway, morning glories always remind me of the days when I was schlepping middle school kids around the Planet Ann Arbor in my loverly old Island Teal POC. I think every kid who regularly rode in that vee-hickle knew that the clock was seven minutes fast. Oasis was often on the CD rotation when we weren’t listening to 89X (was it 89X?). Whatever it was, it was where “Holly” shared the contents of her “little lunchbox” every day and you got to win various bits of swag or maybe concert tickets if you were lucky enough to guess the contents correctly. Something like that.

I guess it was a good thing that I actually *liked* Oasis. I liked most of my kids’ music. There were times when I got a bit taaaarrred of Ani but I would usually say something like, “I will listen to anything you want to but I’m a wee bit taaaared of Ani,” and the beach urchins would choose something that they knew I *did* like, like Oasis. Win win 🐸

My parents didn’t deny us our generation’s music in any way, shape, or form. When you think about it, they raised two children who were talented musicians in their own right. I was a classical flutist and my brother a very good jazz trombonist. When you are listening to your daughter diligently [and constantly] practice her scales, etudes, and repertoire pieces over and over and over ad infinitum on both of her instruments, you do not deny her a wee bit of Cream or the Beatles or Jimi Hendrix or even some crappy bubble-gum type pop music in her spare time. On the other hand, they didn’t really enjoy my generation’s music and we learned not to foist it upon them.

When I was a teenager, I swore up and down that I would not EVER harass my children about their music or clothing, etc. I *think* I managed that. Here’s Oasis with “What’s the Story Morning Glory?” Good song but sorry to say it starts with an ad.

Is that a bible verse? No, it’s a rocket.

Tuesday, September 15th, 2015

rocketI guess we began our Blue and Only Bathroom prodject in earnest a couple weeks ago but even though a wee bit of money changes hands when you sign on the doted line, it doesn’t feel real until the HVAC guy shows up. Not to negate the presence of the prodject manager and our fave designer, just that we have some HVAC issues to sort out on our renovation of The Blue and Only Bathroom. Look at me, throwing the acronym HVAC around like I actually know what the heck it means or what an “HVAC guy” does. Our HVAC guy has a son who attended college at Lake State (LSSU) in Sault Ste. Siberia a while back so he is familiar with the Antlers Barrroooooom and the Norris Center (Lake State hockey rink, etc.) and probably other area attractions but those are what we talked about.

Yes, he also inspected and strategized HVAC stuff. His first reaction? “You’ll need to get a new water heater to do that.” [Take out the chimney.] He kinda backed off on the new water heater but we had already discussed that possibility. It turns out that we can’t remember how old this water heater is. I think it’s older than 2-3 years but not really sure. I guess I could look it up but I’m too lazy right now. I do know that the Norris Center is more than 10 or 15 years old (as Someone guessed today) because I remember when Radical Betty was a Water Ex instructor there back well before I had children and I am not strong enough to tell you how old the beach urchins are tonight.

Now that I’m thinking about it a bit more clearly, the Norris Center was there the night that The Engineer went to play his trombone in the pep band at an LSSU hockey game. He left The Commander and Grandroobly and Radical Betty and Duke sitting at the kitchen table with a full bottle of Jack Daniels (or whatever) and when he got home after the hockey game, the bottle was empty and maybe I’ll tell you about the rest of that wild night some other day, at least The Engineer’s and/or the Comm’s version of it since I was not there. Anyway, The Engineer was just a college freshman then, which means the Norris Center is, well, I’m not gonna do the math right now, okay? Man oh man, do I miss all of those people now that they are over there on the other side.

I had to leave for a work meeting before the HVAC session was done but there are exploratory holes in the Blue and Only Bathroom wall, so we are on our way!

Off with their heads!

Monday, September 14th, 2015

plumcoffeeLovely way to begin the week, coffee @Zingermans @PlumMarket with a beach urchin. Doesn’t matter which beach urchin. Either one will do. This one happens to be my Detroit kiddo, the one who was taught to make ‘hattans for her grandgrumpers back when she was a bitsy little thing. I think the statute of limitations on that particular infraction expired many years ago so don’t anyone even think about dragging yer fav-o-rite blahgger into court for contributing to the delinquency of a minor. (And we’ll talk about the Shooken Up Beach Beer Incident some other time.)

After dinner and some episodes of Twin Peaks and Portlandia, my girl was just sleepy enough to decide to stay the night, so the GG removed the Stuff from the Guest Bed, and I got to have coffee with my firstborn today. This was particularly nice because I have to miss my reglear nucular tagger coffee date with MMCB2 this week. We have been respectfully asked to be at our desks emanating some version of productivity by 8:30 the morning I usually meet my friends for coffee. We work hard over at Cubeland but people tend to trickle in and the place can be a bit dark and thinly populated at 8:30 AM. Not a good thing this particular Thursday.

We’ve been watching Twin Peaks episodes for a while now, ever since the night following the installation of Titanium Pinky. I had this awful neural block and couldn’t keep track of my arm OR SLEEP and I was texting with Liz and she suggested we should watch Twin Peaks. We watched three episodes that night. We have continued with Twin Peaks and these days, we are crushing on Nadine, if you know the series. At least the GG is crushing. I think it is downright weird for a 30-something woman to go back to high school. I sometimes have dreams nightmares about that kind of thing. On the other hand, Nadine kicked ass with some thug last night, so not sure what I think about her. Portlandia? My beach urchin wasn’t sure I would like Portlandia but I loved it! Honestly, some of the characters remind me of various typical Planet Ann Arbor denizens although, overall, A2 is probably nowhere near as crunchy as Portland, not that I’ve ever been to Portland and therefore do not have a clue [snort].

We didn’t spend a whole lot of time at coffee today. We were both messing around with our phones and that’s okay in my book. And I think we were both kind of ready to get moving. Liz on the eastbound I94 18-wheel Clogway and me on my usual slow route around to Cubeland, south of the A2 airport. Work ethic anyone?

But you used to make them for your grandparents

Sunday, September 13th, 2015

backyardNot that it was a bad day or anything, just that the blow by blow isn’t all that exciting.

A trip over to Berkley (not to be confused with Berkeley) for brunch with The Beautiful Liz and The Wonderful Randy at one of those lovely Greek-owned family restaurants that seem to be ubiquitous in the Detroit area (and maybe elsewhere but I wouldn’t know because I live under a rock). These are places where you can get good down-to-earth “American” food like eggs over easy hash browns and toast or you can get a big beautiful spinach pie or a spinach feta omelet (my choice today). We were at Alex’s today. I may never go back there but that will ONLY be because it’s a 45 minute drive from here. The food and the service were excellent.

TBL asked me if I was going to visit my relatives in Royal Oak after brunch. I had to think about that for a split-second before I replied truthfully that I do not have any relatives in Royal Oak any more. And so after brunch, we trundled along home. Our route took us past the Southfield/12 Mile intersection. There are new shops on one corner of that intersection but I was more interested in a rather dilapidated building just to the east of the intersection. I could be wrong but I think that the now lucrative Flute World had its rather humble beginnings in that building. I used to drive north on Southfield past 12-Mile frequently when I first knew the GG and he lived in an apartment over on 14 Mile and I lived on Seventh Street in A2. I stopped there a few times back when I was actually playing my flute.

And home. Where another beautiful Liz came over to do [her] laundry and help engineer dinner. Yes, potato salad needs to be in my menu rotation and thanks for all of the thinking, organizing, shopping, chopping, and overall help. A few weeks ago, she did pretty much the whole deal while I sat in a chair in front of the TV, encumbered with a big ugly cast. Today I was a much more active participant. Although I have done a lot of chopping throughout the weekend and Titanium Pinky was fine, it was nice to relax and let someone else do some chopping. A person whose grandmother taught her how to cut up vegetables with a sharp knife when she was three, so you know she knows what she’s doing.

Twitter plays? A few this afternoon. Untweeted. For now.

Not the usual

Saturday, September 12th, 2015

Saturday, that is. Our Saturday started with an iPhone alarm at that Batscope Hour. Why? So Someone could get up, faaaarrr up his mothership and get online at midnight PDT. Why? Why do you think? Hint, mine will be gold this time. It took a couple hours or something like that. I’m not really sure. I got up long enough to check out what kind of fun was being had, provide my email address (if you are wondering why he had to ask that, you are not alone), watch him click the link to our chosen service provider about a billion times, and shiver a bit. Because it is not really all that warm here this weekend.


Poor guy. A couple (or three?) hours after he finally got back to bed, Someone Else [rudely] awakened him with, “I’ll text you when I get to 7th Street.” And so, Someone Else, who had already dispensed with Titanium Pinky’s splint and taken a shower, proceeded to galumph down to the farmer’s market where she purchased this beautiful haul of late summer produce. The pic does not include the lake trout, beef/bacon kebabs, or locally grown pork chops (REALLY GOOD!). Look away from the maple bacon potato chips. Nothing to see there 🐗


Later in the morning, the GG surprised me with the idea of walking downtown for lunch at the Grizzly Peak. To watch a wee bit of feetsball, don’tcha know. This is not the usual Saturday activity for us but I let myself breeeeeathe for a split-second and… Of course! Let’s walk down for lunch at the Grizzly. I am not in any way interested in feetsball but I do enjoy the ambiance of home UMich games here on The Planet Ann Arbor and I actually like UMich to win although I don’t cry in my whine if it doesn’t.


We did NOT watch the entire game downtown (actually I didn’t watch it at all) but the Boob Tube came on after we got home and wouldn’tcha know, UMich actually won! Rah! Rah! Sis-boom-bah!

Titanium Pinky? Wow, has she been put through her paces today. Not only did she participate in her prescribed regimen of exercises, she hung out with all of her hand companions doing the typical chores that KW does on Saturday. No splint since KW got up this morning. I hope KW has not made TP work too hard but TP feels really good and seems to be working diligently to rejoin the rest of KW’s hand.

Lake trout (with lemon and almonds) and corn on the grill tonight, new potatoes and fresh lima beans on Gertrude. Love y’all and g’night.

Some semblance of normalcy

Friday, September 11th, 2015

normalcySo, with a big whomping thud, the UMich students are back in town, A2 kids are back in school, and we can hear bits of the UMich marching band practicing over here on the far northwest side of town. There is a home UMich feetsball game tomorrow and the Oscar Tango was slammed tonight. Fall anyone?

Normalcy? Titanium Pinky has not been encumbered by her splint since early this morning when I took my 0-skunk-30 neighborhood prowl. I have decided that I don’t need the splint to drive anymore. I definitely do not need it at Cubeland since TP hits her designated QWERTY keys at about a 98% rate of accuracy and about the only way I could possibly slam into someone in the aisles is by my own reckless galumphing around. But I am not galumphing around because I am being careful. And so, I cautiously made the decision to walk downtown tonight without my splint. I did pack it into my backpack just in case I decided I needed it at some point during the night. I didn’t. Yay!

So here is Titanium Pinky at the Oscar Tango tonight. We were porterized there for the second time this week, the first time being up on the shores of Gitchee Gumee on a beautiful sunshiney late afternoon. I also walked home tonight without TP’s splint but I will wear it when I am sleeping. And I am kind of done for the night. Seeya in the next episode, hopefully a more interesting one.