Workspace

WRITING PROMPT from Writer's Digest:
Describe your workspace in vivid detail. What items are on your desk? What pictures do you have on the walls? What does your trash can look like?

My workspace today? Can't seem to find it. It was buried in the corner of my little bedroom in my little two bedroom apartment. Now it's buried under a heap of boxes behind bigger heaps of red hat regalia.

Why? Cause I'm moving. Moving back into the big house. Well it's not exactly a "big" house but there is a tiny little den just off the kitchen, within reach of the all important coffee pot, where I'll figure out how to place two desks (one for business, one for play), file cabinets, shelves and maybe even a chair.

Pictures on walls? no... shelves on walls; shelves full of genealogy, books about writing (maybe I'd write more if I quit reading about how to write), and one clear spot for Miss Minnie Poopalot's observation deck.

Items on desk? There is a computer, two printers and a fax machine buried under the propagation of office supplies that are supposed to be stuffed away in the desk drawers.

Trash can? Uh...Maybe Miss Minnie Poopalot will leave me some real estate in that giant litter box in the corner by the sliding glass door.

My suggestion for the next writing prompt: Describe what's in your drawers. Just kidding. Not going there. Going out to container store for clutter control bins and baskets. Why the heck did I move all this stuff anyway?

Poop Prizes and Stuff

Taking a break from packing boxes upon boxes (amazing what one can accumulate in five years even in a small apartment), today was the annual Victorian Afternoon Tea. I held the lucky raffle ticket today winning a huge basket of little boy toys. It couldn't have happened at a more opportune time... time to instigate a new toilet training strategy in hopes of awarding daily "poop" prizes. When all else fails one must sometimes resort to pure bribery.

Not to bore anyone with more tales of a three and a half year old but get this... hubby takes kid to park. Kid doesn't want to leave. Hubby grabs kicking and screaming kid and wrestles his way into the car seat. Drives home. Goes to a party. Returns 4 hours later to find cops knocking on door. It seems two people reported a possible child abduction. They were quick to give the details including my personalized license plate (thank god there wasn't an Amber alert or this RHS Moll might have had some serious explaining to do). Well I am glad to see people are looking out for the welfare of our children. BUT my question is... how safe are our children if it takes 4 hours to check out grandpa?

Upside Down

Dinner at the Moraccon restaurant with a three and a half year old can be amusing. After experiencing the hand washing ritual, eating with fingers, and observing the belly dancer behind crossed fingers, little J's comment... "why is this place built upside down?" hmmmmm

BO Ugly

Meet BO Ugly. It seems I'm on a roll of bad rental car luck. Not going into my experience with Enterpr...earlier this week but perhaps someone there warned Avis that I was coming.

Anyway I was supposed to get a pontiac G6. But instead I got BO Ugly... This Burnt Orange Ugly box on wheels. It's so ugly that when we pulled up in front of the resort, the valet took three steps back, shook his head, and commented, "that's just about the ugliest car I've ever seen."

Oh well. It gets us where we want to go... And it's easy to find.

The J Word

Due to some unfortunate circumstances Little J has been exposed to the "J" word. For a much needed change of scenery, we went to play at Fairyland. I did not know there would be a "j-a-i-l" there and wouldn't you know, before I knew it, there he was all locked up and refusing to budge. Bail was easily arranged with one little ice cream. If only real life problems could be resolved with one single scoop.

So now we are pretty sure that Little J has picked up what "j-a-i-l" is. How long before he realizes the meaning of "i-n-c-a-r-c-e-r-a-t-i-o-n"?

My Obit

It might be a bit morbid but I just had to find out....

'What" will your obituary say?' at QuizGalaxy.com

Been Here Done This

I'm old. Old enough to have been where these young ladies are going. I discovered these blogs in More Magazine. Check them out. They have a great sense of humor (and some good advice) to go along with all those inevitable changes:
I'm Out of Estrogen
My Menopause Blog
This is My Body, This is My Blood

My Next Life

This is me next time around.

Work Reunions

Thirty some years ago I worked with this bunch of tour bus drivers. Today we celebrated Red's 85th birthday.

Three of these people still drive buses. Can you guess which ones? Hint... I am NOT one of them but if you read my blog you know that one of those who still drives is my hubby... he's the only one if the picture who happens to be dressed like a bus driver... actually he dresses that way 365 days a year.

Making the Best of It

It's hot. Miserably hot. Over 100. Today was supposed to be a red hat day. We were supposed to go to an ice cream social. Since only two of us were brave enough to risk heat stroke, we did the next best thing. We took the hubby and grandson.

We ate ice cream. Melted ice cream.

We sweltered in the hot sun for the sheepdog presentation. It was well worth it. Those dogs are amazing. So were the sheep.

Little J had a ball checking out all the John Deere equipment, playing old fashioned games, and crafting puppets and such.

We drank water. Lots of water. No heatstroke.

And the best news of all.... after many many tries and much much patience.... <<<>>>.....we are into our 2nd successful potty training day!!!! At last! shhhhhhhhhh