Monster Truck Attack

Yesterday morning, at 7:45 a.m. I was sitting at a red light and sipping an iced chai tea and all of a sudden, my world turned to iced liquid in my lap and stars in my head.

Yep, monster truck driver claims he didn't see me. Guess he didn't see the red light either. What kind of LaLa Land was he in? Red light AND red car? I get out and see crushed trunk and badly scraped bumper. Dial 911 on cell. Nope, can't take the call unless its life threatening, lazy voice gives me phone number to call. I'm shaking. I forget number. Another call to 911, since I do not carry a phone book in my car. She's really p______ at me by now. She, herself, finally patches me over to the police station. Attendant wants my life history and all pertinent demographics, including insurance companies, addresses and phone numbers for both parties, DL numbers, etc. How would I know his? I'm not his babysitter, just his victim. I repeat over and over again, "We are standing out in cold, wind, and traffic including BIG trucks whizzing buy at 20 mph over speed limit, honking irate motorists, and we, I repeat, we are NOT safe." "Please send help." "Not until I get this form filled out." Ok.

After fighting with dispatch to send a cop, I'm standing, dazed, out in the traffic and wind at a wind chill of 42 degrees, no coat, wet, late to work, and getting madder by the minute. I get the chewing of my life for not having a Wyoming Driver's License (one year ago DMV told me to wait until it was ready to expire, THEN come in, cop says I'm lying) while our happy little mud bogger who probably had a major stone on despite the early hour drives happily away. I later find out he was not even charged for ........what, not being in his vehicle mentally?

The truck was so blankety blank big, that's probably what saved my car worse damage than it has. I'm surprised it didn't go right over the top of me and shave off the top of the car. These trucks are the macho thing to drive out here - I think the size of the drivers' "you know whats" might correspond in the opposite direction of the size of the trucks. Have to be driving monster trucks for daily use for some wierd reason, huh? Interesting that "Dragonness," ex-employee drove one of those.

This a.m. I call his insurance agent who gets huffy with me. She says his insurance information is private. I tell her I don't want his blankety blank insurance information, I want to know where to: 1. Send bills for car repair. 2. Send doctor bills (my back is on fire from the base of my skull to my tail bone including my left hip, and my thumb and little finger on my left hand are asleep and I had to have x-rays, and, 3. Get a rental car while my car is in the shop. She stalls me again. I say, "Do I need a lawyer to obtain the answers to my questions?" She then promises to call back with claim number and information. She kept her word and within three hours I had a claim number AND the home office number of the insurance company.

I see the doc and he shoots me up on the hip with something that feels like 20 jolts of expresso, but I stop hurting for four hours. And a flu shot. Now, at home the burning is back (I guess doc thought the injuries are of a four hour duration only) and I guess I will try to fix self with a heat pack or five since I have a loooong back, and see if I can tame the knots and burning down. When I open my mouth beyond an inch, fire shoots through my ear into my jaw. Tomorrow will harrass doc for referral to massage therapist. Don't like drugs anyway, no how.

So, for now, bloggy land, bye bye. Gonna get a book, I have miso soup on, and sit on heat packs and read a serial killer book.

The Devil Wears Prada

What a wonderful, boffy cool movie. Meryl Streep was awesome and elegant, inhuman but very human. Stanley Tucci was great in his character. Anne Hathaway was totally stunning in beauty and in playing the soft hearted young woman conflicted between a new, devouring career and her life as she knew it B.C. Her character was the old story of a plain jane turned into a glam creature and facing much conflict between demanding career and her life before career. But the movie was so totally charming, I found myself cheering on the transformation from the beginning. The cinematography was also stunning - the shots of Paris were so beautiful, one could cry! The fashions, loved them!

On a personal note, I was afraid I might be seeing some parallels in my life, but I'm not confessing them.

Since I get seniors' prices (although they "card" me) I will see it again. And maybe again.

Brother Bob

I called Bro. Bob's wife, Beth today. He is 70, had back surgery, with a background of Parkinson's, then contacted pneumonia, became so sick he has a feeding tube, but yet he is recovered enough to be in rehab now.

I met Bro. Bob and Beth when my husband and I made the journey to Florida to go to Bible College. Those were rough years, we went from a beautiful home to grungy apartments, once a trailer home given to us rent free for over a year. We left good jobs. I was an administrative assistant to the City manager.

We began college, and our then 12 year old daughter became very depressed. I cried too much because I had left my 94 year old Grandma and young adult son in Wyoming, along with my home. Our oldest daughter came with us.

My husband had a midlife crisis and I left him for a while, my son died in Wyoming, my car was repossessed for, no - not for not making a payment - but for taking it across a state line without the bank's written consent. We could only find crummy jobs. My youngest daughter and I became very sick with a disease that took two years to diagnose. My oldest daughter's injuries from college basketball culminated in a back surgery.

I worked for Bro. Bob at a missionary agency, taking care of him, and 130 missionaries in around 50 different countries. He put up with me when I was in shock and grief. I've heard of some companies firing people after a death of a loved one. He put up with me when I lost any belief that God cared for me at all. Maybe for other people, but not me.

I got used to calling him "Brother Bob" which was a "foreign" way for me. He loved jokes and teasing. He was never really friendly with me. I was somewhat intimidated by him. I passed him notes rather than deal with him face to face. He is a praying man, a man of great faith. Probably a day did not go by that he didn't pray for me. Our days at the office were started with the employees in a circle holding hands and praying. Looking back, he was a spiritual dad to me in many ways. I was "hot stuff" at the City back home, but I was never "hot stuff" to Bro. Bob - somehow he was always ministering to me. I got back at him by baking him angel food cake with cherries, vanilla pudding, and cool whip in layers.

When I look back, I think God sent Bro. Bob the wounded ones...special wounded ones. I recovered my faith eventually, realizing that what this fallen world brings us and does to us while we are here makes God as sad as we feel or more sad. I realized God doesn't see death like we do, He sees it as His kids finally getting to come home and be loved on in person. My faith rose as I watched during a prayer service horrible bumps on my daughter's arms slowly disappear in front of my eyes...a skin disorder the docs said was permanent. I remember lying on the floor of the House of Prayer telling God I would die from the pain and then His love would flood over me as I lay on the floor weeping.

Bro. Bob used to pray that he would be instrumental in bringing one million souls to know Christ. I think he might have through all these years by mentoring and sending all those missionaries who touched all those people, who in turn touched more, and the waves kept going out. I think when he gets to heaven, he'll see them all. He and Beth helped found the church that eventually planted dozens of churches in the south and eastern U.S. and sent the missionaries out to plant church in dozens of other countries. When I go home to visit that church I feel like I'm coming home. Never has a place seen me through so much. I'm so lucky to have so many friends of different nationalities in so many countries and to have visited some far-away places.

The missions agency has changed. Bro. Bob retired about ten years ago. And the agency will never be the same. It still goes on though. I still hear from missionaries whom I (hopefully) made it easier for them to stay in the foreign field.

I would like to go see Bro. Bob and take him some flowers. But I do not think I will see him or Beth again until I get to heaven, as so many other great, truly great people that have gone on. One, Rick, a missionary to Kenya with such great heart and passion for the youth living on the streets in Nairobi. He worked so hard that his immune system broke down and he died in his late forties from cancer. He left two adopted African babies without a daddy. He audio taped a journal as he slowly died with some of the most wonderful thoughts and so much love in the words.

Oh, I could write of some great people, and we all have the same spiritual daddy, Bro. Bob.

Mountain Fires

It seems amazing that some of the homes were standing while fire obviously circled the houses. The burning continued to the highway and jumped across.

Fires A Burnin'

The town where my mother lives is close to being eaten' up by fire. I grew up one-half hour from the mountain (and never learned to ski!).

The camcorder piccy shows the smoke over the town. I don't know how big the mountain is but the whole face of it is on fire, and it is at the edge of town in some areas. Smoke is extending 30-45 miles out of town, travelers are warned of limited visibility.

I suppose I shall saunter over there this weekend, if I can get there. Don't know how long I will stay if it is hard to breathe. I'm not sure asthma is an accepted illness in my mother's world. I offered to go get her and help her get all the doggies to boarding and bring her over to somewhat fresher air, boarding for doggies because landlord won't allow dogs. Apartment can't hold three 100 pound plus dogs and one slightly smaller one anyway. She won't leave. Kinda like the people on the Gulf Coast who preferred to live in their attics for days without water and food rather than leave their animals. I don't know what else to do, I offered.

Things don't feel right. There is so much stress, anxiety, anger, craziness in the air right now that I can't sleep, nor can many of my friends. We think it is the Israel/Hezbollah war sending out waves from the epicenter. I was up drinking coffee at 3 a.m. looking for a good book and didn't find any. I realized I have been reading technical manuals, management manuals, HR manuals mostly for entertainment. Ohhhhh, Barnes & Noble, or maybe Amazon.com, I shall visit you soon. I think of all the books $350.00 would have purchased and I swoon a little.

Am trying to draft a legal sounding letter to decline purchase of Casa de Broken for the realtor. Guess the worst she can do is keep my $100.00 deposit.

Landlord raised rent again as a thank you for telling them I might be moving. After they stood on my porch in April and told me they wouldn't raise my rent until next year because they raised it last year. I'm supposed to learn something from this living mess, and lying blankety-blanks but not sure what. But that did it, I am certainly putting a mousetrap in the underwear drawer and move my daily undies to an undisclosed location.

First Ah Is, Then Ah Isn't, Then Ah Is..........

Thank you dear friends for all the encouragement. The realtor called the banker, who didn't know anything about the letter loaning me not enough money and raising the interest, even though she signed it.

Met the inspector at Casa de whose's it, and the plumbing is leaking under the mobile home, the sump pump is plugged via a long cord going under the door into the studio, (which is in really good shape - at least one of the buildings is!). The plumber is coming tomorrow and the inspector will go back.

The water heater has leaked so long that the minerals have leached out and stopped the leak, but not before the floor underneath has rotted out.

The faucets in the kitchen and bathroom are not connected to the walls. The toilet is for extremely short people. The piping for the dishwasher to the garbage disposal is too low and the disposal spits ground food into the dishwasher if you turn on the disposal. The vent fan is in the shower, with a plug into the light fixture, which the inspector said NEVER plug in or you will not have to worry about paying for the mobile home because you won't be living here on earth anymore. Several of the windows are cracked, screens with holes, the swamp cooler has electrical wiring hanging out of it with a Christmas light on it. The cats have made one of the bedrooms into a bathroom.

The side door to the outside is barely hanging there, the back gate that was standing is now laying flat, weeds up to my mid calf over 1/2 yard, the garage door opener won't work, ................need I say more.

I guess if this goes through I can fix the water heater mess first, have the pipes underneath heat wrapped, put plastic over the windows, cut the weeds, water the grass whats left of it, remember not to turn on the disposal when the dishwasher is running, DO NOT plug in electrical vent fan while showering, clean, clean, clean and worry about the rest when spring comes and I have a little more money.

Myself, I'm an electrical powered person and this place is all gas except the lights. Gas going through 35 year old pipes - eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek! Well, this guy better be doing his job.

I think - what if I stay here - I've made it quite cozy - well, "they" COULD haul landlord off as he is about completely daft, then sell the apartments and then the rent would be raised to $1,000 a month, and I would have to go back to Florida and figure out how to find a job for an old lady. Pushing carts at Walmart sounds rather depressing.

Enough - this must be really boring all this mishmashing. Didn't get pictures of the Casa - maybe tomorrow - Commissioners Meeting - and rumors are: all hell will break loose - perhaps I should wear high, really high heels.

Art Gallery Opening! (see tag a blog below)

Some of my friends have expressed curiosity about my art. I "dabble" in all mediums. For five years I have wanted to make a website for my work. In fact, I went back to school for a degree in Multimedia Production so I could have an on-line gallery. This is for "Someday Isle" I think. The link is below my bloggy friends link.

So, tonight for all those who are curious, I have posted some of the work. Some of you have seen several pieces.

Diana's Art Gallery

Happy Browsing.

Been tagged.........here goes, now yur turn!

Ahhh, I'm tagged. I find these fun, because its a great way to know people more.

Five things I would never wear:
1. Me too candy minx - beige - ugh (too much of being dressed in it in childhood.) I've decided that only people who are unimaginative or want to disappear wear beige - hope I don't offend someone - if so, let me hear from you beige lovers, I'm willing to change.)
2. High Heels - my feet hurt - but I used to, even though I'm 6'2" woman - yeh, that showed up the misogynists.
3. round and round stripes
4. a supershort old lady perm
5. micro mini skirt with required matching thong

Five favorite TV shows: (don't watch much but will try to come up with some I watch occasionally:
1. LaFemme Nikita (the series has long been over.)
2. The Runway show
3. Blade (series)
4. Dog Whisperer (cuz I can't figure out dogs - how can they (well, not all) be so crude, so stinky, so unmanageable, yet do such occassionaly heroic acts?) 1/2 hour with Dog Whisperer and they behave! I really want to know how to do that.
5. Medium (some seemingly REAL everyday life mixed in with it, plus the actress has cool teeth.)

Five things I would do with a 100 million dollars:
1. Get all my family members together, charter a jet, go on a family trip to Ireland (maybe rent a castle for a month) and then give them 3 million each. Also give my friends who struggle financially a million each.
2. Start a charitable foundation for social action and poverty relief.
3. Begin my travels with the Orient Express in England and end in Turkey with lots of stops in between.
4. Hire Oprah's personal trainer and cook.
5. Build some really nice homes in all my favorite places.
6. Go on a spending spree like no one has ever seen and buy hundreds of presents for people.
7. Have a reunion and pay for all my bloggy friends to come to a resort for five days - maybe the sexy resort in Jackson Wyoming at the foot of the Tetons, modern wooden cabins with fireplaces and windows looking into the Tetons - outdoor Sauna.....sigh
.........or the Casa Maravilla in Costa Rica -
(Ya, I know I cheated on this one.)

Five greatest joys:
1. Being with my children & grandchildren.
2. Doing Art, seeing Art
3. Nature
4. Visiting foreign countries
5. When I sense God's presense around me.

Five songs I can sing from memory:
1. Ghost Riders in the Sky
2. You are my sunshine (passed down from grandma to grandchild for years in family)
3. I Still Miss Someone
4. Baby Won't Ya Follow Me Down (Dylan)
5. Chicken Leg Woman - (well, I want to learn it - cutest blues song I ever heard and I can't find the songwriter, singer, or reference to the song.) "Ah wanna a tuuurkey laig woman, don't wan no chicken laig woman...." What a writer! Heard it on XM radio.

Five favorite toys:
1. Computer
2. Camera
3. Scanner
4. My software
5. the little stuffed dog my youngest grandson gave me when I left Florida last time.

Tag - well one bloggy friend hates it, so ya don't have to. Let's see:
1. Puppy
2. Lorretta
3. Living with Tourettes
4. hattigrace
5. Vicki (do it on comments: for Pete's sake, set up a blog - you have so much to say!!!!
aaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnndd - everyone else that is interested - all you are so interesting I want to know your answers!

Living with Kitty and View from my Picture Window

The piccy's are uploading now in html. Never seen THAT before. The dust bowl is a picture of the new trailer court across the street. For only $1,000 a month, one can live in the dirt in a new trailer.

Now, my trailer, yah, MINE, (I hope)to be is in green green grass, with a paved road, fence, studio in back, and storage with a little patio in a nice street with a cul-de-sac. Currently I live off of a highway -noisy, dirty.

I still haven't heard anything yet on the loan, but I got a counter offer and I'm trying another counter offer. I wanted him to fix the broke things. He doesn't want to. It will cost me to fix broke things, as I am no spring chickie, I can't crawl on top of mobile home, I can't crawl under crawl space. He's let the place go and it needs some work.

Today the long distance went out, and the cell phones, as well as the internet. I wondered if it was terrorism. But now things are back on, maybe it will hold tomorrow and I can get calls out to find out where I stand.

Been crying off and on today, don't know why - maybe because if I buy this place, it will be one more step toward permanency and one more step away from where my heart is yearning to be. Oh, if you are young and reading this, start planning for your retirement NOW!

Top (pic) Kitty is magnificent - but what an odd ball personality - guess when I think about it, I've never met a cat that wasn't an odd ball. My Florida Meowi is my favorite, he's a sweet heart. I miss him too. He's a little, only a wee, neurotic and I was afraid a car ride cross country would really mess him up forever. Black kitty is a big big cat - and pushy. Will eat all the time, anything and everything, including watermelon, avacodos, soy milk, shrimp, spaghetti - and on and on. I have to limit her or she gets sick. When she's limited, she's real pushy. A pushy cat.

Me Mum & Me

What is it with blogspot's picture upload? First I got 6 of the photos, now it won't upload at all.

It rained tonight. I am so thankful. This 90 degree apartment was making me wilt. I don't do well, unless I'm air conditioned.

Returned a while ago from visiting my mother this weekend. I did not want to go - I was having major freakout on Saturday morning.

No one would ever know I freak out because I appear so calm. But I had been through a week of server breakdown followed by four of our desktops, (spygate), followed by a top notch employee that moved on to more money. I couldn't find my keys, I was thinking of all the things I needed to do, like start packing and, well, gas is getting expensive! And I had (have) bills to pay. always a two to three hour ordeal for me.

The litter boxes were beyond foul and it was so hot I was afraid I would be reported for pet abuse if I went off and left Cat.

Anyway, I hid my underwear and bills and headed down the road.

Dinner this time: China Man's. More dread. Pleasant surprise - SUSHI, and CRAB LEGS....and a very excellent buffet. Of course I concentrated on the crab legs, don't get those fellas often in Wyoming. Just me & her. She was tickled I was pigging out because I don't eat much when we are at the "Hometown Buffet." We placed our purses in the chairs and hit the buffet. This really scares me, I am learning the ways of the 2nd phase of elderly. Please someone, if I post a piccy of myself with a perm and one inch short hair, send an assasin.

While we are eating, she wants me to go with her to the Dog Cemetery where she has about 20 of the little (and big) fellers R.I.P., and she wants me to chop the weeds out of the cemetery. It is only 101 degrees outside and I beg off until fall. But I feel guilty; she takes me out to dinner everytime I come over - seems like the least I could do. But just didn't want to risk a heart attack or heat stroke, especially so dog-gone close to a cemetery.

Always when I leave, she tries to give me "stuff." "No, mother, I don't want a case of toilet paper, I think I will be moving soon." No, thanks, I don't need all that Diet Pepsi, I'm off the stuff. She stuffs it in my box anyway. Lots of peaches, and yellow squash - let me tell you, if there is ever a national disaster, her house is the place to head to.

Tagged

Ok, 5 things in my freezer:

1. Okra
2. Hake
3. Waffles
4. Berries
5. Ice cubes


5 things in my closet

1. lots of bags, I'm a real bag freak - a bag lady
2. my bills, under a suitcase where I hide them from the landlord
3. my underwear, in a suitcase where I hide them from the landlord
4. my clothes
5. my purses

5 things in my car (oh boy)

1. Change
2. CD's
3. A Taco John's Bag
4. Cemetery Flowers I've been hauling around since Memorial Day
5. Hardware = a screwdriver, other tools, and an emergency kit

5 things in my purse/wallet

1. Lots of receipts
2. Lots of pens, pencils
3. Checkbooks
4. Lipstick
5. Broken plastic silverware.........and much, much more

Ok, Blogger friends, now you are tagged!!!!!!!

Luckiest, most blessed mom in the World

This piccy looks a bit stark and lonely - like me.

I wrote a long letter via email to my youngest last night, I was so lonely for them.

This came back to me from my daughter in response to a letter telling her I might be out here two years longer than I planned:

I love you and miss you with all my heart. I know Sagie misses you very much too. But we want what is best for you. You have spent your whole life taking care of us now it's time to care for yourself. Whenever I get to missing you so bad, I tell myself that I am being selfish. Others have lost a parent forever. I am lucky because I can still talk to you, you are still a big part of our lives (just a little further away). I am proud of you for taking initiative towards building a future. It saddens me so much to see elderly patients in the hospital that have nothing. Some of them are in such bad shape financially that they can't afford their meds and end up in the hospital over and over again. Don't worry about disappointing Sage. He is super lucky that you guys were able to have such a close relationship for so long and will again. Some grandkids don't have the opportunity to have such a relationship. We love you so much and will support you 100% in whatever you decide.

With much love and adoration,

Isn't that the best! I love 'em sooooooooooooo much.

Mi Casa or La Casa?

Hmm, posting seemed to bring the blog back. Wonder what that was all about. Found a mobile home on its own lot. It's older, not much room in one bedroom, the other is fine. Closet space at a minimum. It has a neat little studio in the back in which to do art work should I find the time, could even put a kiln there! It has green grass around it, lotsa room for flowers, a single car garage on the side.

Smells like pot now, but surely that can be scrubbed away????? It made my head woozy - I can not only smell drugs, but can "sense" them....being around just the scent always makes me woozy and wacked, I can tell when a person is doing drugs just by walking by them. It spooks people out. Ya think I'm nuts? This has proved out! Years ago when friends were experimenting, it would make them mad because I always knew. Not that I didn't have an experiment or two of my own many many years ago, growing up in the hippy era.

(Did I ever tell you about hitchhiking from Baltimore to the East Village in New York? No? Well I probably won't either.)

Perhaps a good praying over the place and days of good Christian music.....an ionizer.....would help.....good kitchen room for cooking - heating costs are a little scary, but I freeze myself up here trying to save money, unknown factor. No one would be stealing my underwear and I would have PRIVACY, yeh! I've been groaning about this place for two years now, but now I'm scared.....

Kitty could play about the yard - the studio has a "cat door" on the side of it.

I see about the financing at noon today. Guess I better hold off the "scared" until I know if I can even get money!

Phone is working, I made the company switch back to my old phone although I had to go through two support techs before one agreed and now it is ringing, taking messages, and seems to be fine. The one that I got through the insurance company for $50.00 was a piece of >>>>>> ya know.

test

my blog is down my blog is down my blog is down

Metaphor

"Ever since the house burned down, I see the moon more clearly."

Getaway

After an extremely stressful week, I decided to "get away." Drove to Saratoga to get a spa pedicure and have a peaceful lunch. Little did I know, as I left my cell phone at work Friday night, how upset the people in my life would be if I had 18 hours of respite from ringing phones. Wow! My mother had even called my boss and lots of people were "on my trail!"

Anyway, oblivious to the chaos caused by my short absence, lunch at this little place on the river was relaxing, the pedicure that I had been wanting to get with my gift certificate for 6 months was timely and wonderful. I wandered through a couple of art galleries, took some photos and was supremely happy for about 3 hours.

The Sagebrush was in bloom and gorgeous and I got in the mood to paint. But when I returned home it was either paint, or try to return calls and soothe ruffled feathers. Why am I such a "people pleaser?" Uhhmmm, oh yah, training. I have spent a good deal of time in therapy over the years trying to overcome that!

On down the river, tuber after tuber passed by. I wished I could get in with the "tubers" and the ducks and float away for a year and a day - "to the land where the bong trees grow" - how many of you know the Owl and the Pussycat poem?

"The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea in a beautiful pea-green boat. They took some honey and plenty of money wrapped up in a five-pound note."

Where do you find poetry like that nowadays?

Not exactly the Owl and the Pussycat here, but doesn't this look like a hoot? These young men were climbing back aboard after jumping the fence to the restaurant patio and ordering lunch.

This is a little different than lunch on the Gulf where the yachts are docked.

Then I saw miles of snow fence. Newcomers to Wyoming, and there are plenty of them, are dumbfounded by miles and miles of what looks like stadiums for prairie dogs or small antelope.

These fences collect snow and the theory is - that keeps the roads more clear of drifts in the winter.

That's all folks.....going to paint, though its hard to paint in 90 degree weather. Phone hasn't rang once. Folks must still be ticked off.

Oooops no snowfence - well blogspot seems to have trouble putting up photos for several weeks now, guess I was lucky to get three up.

Going to clean up kitchen - a cooler fan seems to have leaked several gallons of water across the floor. Then paint???? Bye.

Groundhog Day

These little folks are not really ground hogs - something out here known as "Prairie Dogs." (Pup, I know you will have really cool names for these guys, gals? too!) I think they are cute. Some people don't like 'em. They shoot 'em or drop bubble gum down their tunnels into their homes (boundary issues - I think so!) (The bubble gum is eaten by the little fellows and it blows up in their tummies and they can't poo and they die a slow agonizing death.) What some people do for fun.

Anyway, back on the subject. Why do I think life is like the movie, "Ground Hog Day?" Ummm, I can't remember.....

Ah, doing the same day over and over and over again. I guess I've had two many deja vu's lately. And I need a vacation back to Florida again. Already.

I used to like doing personnel - but we had to dismiss someone the other day. It was a rough go, and I felt bad, really bad, although the person did deserve it. We aren't in the business of rehab for various compulsive issues, but in the business of running a business without getting lawsuits from offended people. And it wasn't my decision. But the "confidentiality," the high emotions on both sides, the meetings to "decide what to do," all bought me back to my days working in personnel at the City. Sigh. I just wanna go home and be a Nana.

I want to be a housecleaner, a cook, a "nan," a chauffer, a flower garden cultivator. A volunteer at Church. A sewer of wonderful things, a painter of wonderful pictures, and a sculptress of wonderful sculptures. I want to be in my family's life, chaotic as it may be.

Oh yes, I am counting down the days.....business world, bye bye.

San Jose

Typical Tico Breakfast

From the roof top of the Hotel of the Angels....

Looking out of my "Angels" room

"Round the corner in the Courtyard."

Costa Rica

It calls - the mists of rain, the lush, the bodacious, flamboyant colors of nature, food fresh from untainted grounds, calls of birds in the rainforest, the beach with attentive young men who bring drinks with hibiscus flowers gracing the glass and who move the umbrella to keep the worst of the sun at bay. Sand, the sound of the Pacific, mangos plucked from the ground where they fall from trees to be taken home, sliced and eaten with lime and salt.

Oh, sigh.......................

PT Cruiser Club

Yeh! Let's start a club. Here is my little Cruiser with my boss, an elected official. (She wanted me to drive her in the parade in the Cruiser.)

So, of course, I think Hattigrace has the coolest of taste! And a convert to top off the coolness of her Cruiser! Ohhhhhhhhh, what a car. Congrats Hattigrace! My sister owns a dapper Taupe Cruiser. I think when my husband's truck drops, I will make him buy one.

The only thing about my Cruiser is - I traded her in. (Oh, sob, more loss.) The Cruiser, not the boss. But she's still my true love. ..the Cruiser. Boy they can haul a lot of stuff! And move into ANY parking space. And go fast! Yes, I got two speeding tickets right after moving to Wyoming. Considering that Haliburtons (big truckers hauling oil & inflammables at 90 mph) leave me in the dust, I began to wonder if drugs were smuggled in Cruisers - why was I getting picked up so much while others roared on at much higher speeds? I was picked up once for 7 miles over the speed limit????? AND ticketed! Could it be the Cruiser? Jealousy? But later time proved out that I am a cop magnet.

I miss her, the Cruiser - she had a malady, a limp, no one could fix, then I had the transmission serviced and I think, but can't prove, that they forgot to put the fluid back in. She froze! Couldn't budge her. After two attempts and several hundreds of dollars, the garage said they had "fixed" her, but she was sick AND limping after that until I said goodbye. Never knew when I would get in her and her transmission would be frozen tight and I could not move her. (She wasn't new when I bought her, and I think she may have been an abused child to begin with, as Cruisers are infamous for being PERFECT.) Getting stalled in the middle of nowhere in snow and below zero weather in Wyoming where cell phones don't work outside of town was not my cup of tea.

I felt bad, as bad as if I had euthanized a pet that consistantly pooped in the carpet and the bed. Didn't mean I didn't love it, just meant I didn't like stepping in and sleeping in poop.

The Buick Lacross - well, it was a heck of a deal, fantastic financing, a demo, but not my style of auto. Old fogies that hang out at the Elks' club drive Buicks out here. Anyway, I got picked up right away in that one. The cop blinded me with his lights as I nudged into the curb. He got out, and shone a flashlight right into my face. Intimidating silence. "Is it against the law to go slow?" I asked. (After two speeding tickets, I'm rather poking along these days.) "You didn't dim your lights quick enough, that's a sign of being drunk, get out of the car." "Officer, I am just going home from a 12 hour Commissioners' meeting, and really, Officer, we were not drinking, you can call ______ and ask." (____________ is also the Assistant Chief of Police as well as County Commissioner. )

Ya'll know what my Commissioner meetings are like, its a wonder I hadn't downed a big bowl of margueritas after the meeting before heading home. Today at a meeting, I was told by one of the Commissioners that I only needed the abilities of a trash collector to do my job, while the other one snickered away. Boy those guys know how to build morale! Thank the good Lord I am making enough money that I can laugh all the way to the bank. Elections are coming. I DO NOT forget!

The copper continued to scold me because I could've made that poor semi-truck wreck. Well, as I said, I'm 6'2" and as I got out of the car, I swayed because I do not do well with heights, mine, or nature's or man-made and because I am clumsy and last, but not least, I was exhausted.

Copper got up real close to me on his tip-toes, I knew he was sniffing. I was starting to come up on a real rebellious attitude, same one that overcame me after being tortured by the TSA. I was to the point of almost daring the dodo to take me to jail. I would call the ACLU from there. Grandmas of the world, unite against discrimination! Anyway, my name dropping was advantageous, so I did not have to go to the Station for an intoxication test.

What is going on in this country? Are old ladies selling drugs or transporting explosives to make their prescription deductibles or for shots of Botox? Do I look like a vulnerable old lady that can be easily hassled? For what? Cookies? The tail-end of my iced Chai? Maybe sitting down I do. WRONG!