Off to Ro-cha-cha

I’m headed to Rochester tomorrow to see my honey. It’s been over ten days since I’ve seen him and I need my Bear! The three and a half hour drive is so easy now. I know where the State Police lurk, where the best rest stops are and if I get a craving for a milkshake I know the exit that I need to get me one!

It’s funny. He used to make fun of me for saying how much I missed him but I know he misses me, too. He always gets a little hyper, doing things he knows I’ll appreciate, right before I come up, like putting fresh sheets on the bed (we’re gonna make ’em nasty again quick!), stocking the fridge with my favorite beer, Amstel Light, mowing the lawn so it looks good. Those sorts of things. He’ll have a bottle of Champagne chilled and he’ll have some strawberries or cherries and chocolates to go with it. He’ll have fresh candles in the living room and on the porch where we love to sit at night if the weather’s warm. He’ll get my favorite soaps out and put them in the shower where I can reach them. He’ll hang a pretty pink towel and washcloth on the towel bar for me. He’ll even clean the toilets!!! What a man!!! Can you see why I love him?

I spent thirty years with a man I cared about but never did he make me feel so cherished as I do now with D. Thirty years of wishing for attention, a little time, a sign that I was the most important thing in his life. It never happened. He wasn’t capable of that. It makes me appreciate the wonderful relationship I have now even more. I will never live the way I did before, in a cold and dead marriage with someone for whom I have nothing in common. Life is too short and I am too old to live that way even one more day.

Damn! I can’t wait for tomorrow……..

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Lazy Ass Wednesday

 In which Trisha uses the word “ASS” too many times in one post!

 Yes, hate me if you must but at 54 and having worked my ass off since I am 15-years-old I feel entitled once in a while to just take a fucking day off! This week was rough. Today was MY day !

Oh, sure, I mowed 3 acres of grass, vacuumed the house , first and second floors, did a load of laundry, ran to the bank and the gas station, and started two batches of yeast dough for 1. Herbed Breadsticks and 2. Italian Sweet Bread.  I’ll have them in the oven before dark.  But Baby, that , to me, IS a day off!

I put on my shortest shorts and a tank top and grabbed the cushion for the chaise lounge , a bottle of Zinfandel Rose, my book and a pair of sunglasses and went out to laze in the sun for  a while. I like to get more tanned than D. It makes him crazy to try and be browner than me. Ha! I will win!!

  I live out in the country where I have no real neighbors. The closest one is 1/8 of a mile away and though our fields border one another we really can’t see each other without binoculars. I know this because occasionally I use my binoculars to see who’s riding the four-wheelers around the property line.

 I got cozy on my chaise, opened my book and decided to pull my straps down off my shoulders to avoid those nasty tan lines. Then I realized I could just take the danged top off. Who’s gonna see me? If the UPS man stops I will hear him before he comes scooting around the back of the house. It’s the country. We know one another, OK? He’ll come looking for me when he sees my car out front!

 I pulled my shorts up into my crack to expose as much flesh as possible. It IS a competition, after all, and I will win! I layed back on my chaise and my hand went to my belly. I hate my stomach….

I am very self-conscious  about my belly. Any woman who’s had four huge babies can say the same thing unless she’s an alien whose skin does not stretch because she doesn’t give birth to live young. I am flabby and loose in the belly and I HATE IT! It is my worst feature, no question, and I wish I could afford a tummy tuck. I do know someone who had one, however, and she said it was awful! She said she couldn’t straighten up for six months and her scar made her look like she had a happy face drawn on her abdomen! I still want one. And lipo to go with it!

 I’ve read where men say that a taut belly is one of their biggest turn-ons and a loose one is a huge turn-off.     Well, crap! I guess I’m screwed! (Metaphorically speaking!)

 My first son weighed 10 lbs. 2 oz. and I had just  turned  sixteen when I had him.  My second son was born three years later and weighed 8 lbs. 11 oz. Then came my oldest daughter at 9 lbs. 12 oz. and then the baby girl at 10 lbs. 14 oz.!!!! I am 5′ 2″ tall. Can you imagine? Sheesh!!! I gained very little weight with most of them, as little as 11 lbs. with the oldest girl! But I have BIG babies!!!

 So there you have it. I want to be fit and firm at 54 and I am very fit! I am just not so firm in some places and that bothers me. I know it shouldn’t, but it does.  I can hike the highest mountain in the Adirondacks or ride my bike for 24 miles at a time or go white-water rafting on the Kennebeck  River and none of that will make a difference in how I look. I am a short, muscular woman in her 50’s.

 I hope D. can live with that. I have no choice short of surgery. And that’s not an option for me.

 

 

 

Good bye, Old Friend

  My old friend George Carlin died yesterday at the age of 71 of  heart failure.

I never met him but I feel as though I’ve lost a friend. This foul-mouthed, irascible, brilliant funny-man made me laugh for more years than I care to count. My favorite character was the Hippy-Dippy Weatherman on Saturday Night Live waaaaay back when.

 Keep ’em laughing whereever you are, George. I hope to meet up with you someday.

Sexy Hunks ?

Since I was too busy on Hot Hunk Thursday to post some beautious men for us I thought I’d give us something to smile about on a funky cloudy Monday.

I Googled “sexy men” , “hot hunks”, even “funny sexy men” and you know what image kept popping up? Are you ready? If you are holding hot coffee now, put it down. I wouldn’t want the shock to cause you to hurt yourself.

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(Sorry the image is f*cking not centered but looks like WordPress has taken away my “edit image” icon and I’m pissed!)

So, girls, whaddaya think?

He doesn’t do it for me!

So I decided to head for the gold and give you Monday’s real man-of-the-day:

Justin Chambers from Grey’s Anatomy!

 

Ooooooo, Baby!!  Have a great Monday. my friends!

Grumpy

I don’t want to go. I really don’t want to go!

 I am getting ready to go to a baby shower for a girl I hardly know because I am friends with her mother. To NOT go would be tantamount to a slap in the face to her. So I am putting on my cutesy little skirt and my (somewhat) demure blouse, wrapping a gift for the baby-to-come, and driving an hour and a half to New Jersey to watch the little Mommy open oodles of unnecessary gifts for hours on end, play childish games and eat crap food.  Fuck.

  Yesterday I worked at the Antiques Shop for the third day in a row for the owners who are good friends of mine. They had to go out of town so I cover for them when they need time off. It happened to be Roots and Rythm weekend in our little town so we were visited by mass quantities of tourists from mostly New Jersey, New York and surprisingly a fair number of Canadians!  I love the Canadians. They are usually polite and complimentary in the shop. The folks from New Jersey and New York….not so much. The are often demanding and say unpleasant or rude things as though I can’t hear them in that little 800 square-feet shop!

 I did well. I smiled. I wrapped items for shipping. I negotiated pricing in a pleasant manner. I never once broke down and said “Will you please take your nasty little undisciplined child and leave this store NOW!!” I thought it but I never said it. I am very proud of myself.

The day before I had five people in the shop who ran my ass ragged. “Can you do better on this price?”, “Can you take that down for me so I can see it better?”, Can you call the owners and ask if they’ll ship this to California?” while their 9-year-old son manhandled delicate Chinese fans and tried to open the pocket knife display. They pretended they had no child. I got the task of saying” I don’t think that’s a good idea to open that, OK?” so the brat didn’t cut himself forcing his litigious parents to sue the pants off my friends for his self-inflicted injury.

They finally left and they went across the street to the coffee shop. I saw them enjoying drinks at a table outside there.

 I started bringing in the stuff from outside getting ready to close up at five minutes to 5:00. As I was bringing in a large bench I saw them rushing across the street and here they came again! They pulled the same shit for another 20 minutes, buying a few small items. What the fuck?  I left forty minutes after closing time.  

 This happens all the time. It’s why I am no longer a retail store owner.

 Now I get to go to New Friggin’ Jersey.

Thanks for letting me vent. I am tired and I don’t want to go…

Six Words About Me

 Darn! I thought I was going to bed but I just found out that my darling son, over at Postulates and Pasttimes has tagged me for a meme.  It would seem that I must follow some rules for this one. You all know how much I just LOVE rules!

  • Write a six-word memoir.
  • Post it to your blog including a visual illustration if you would like.
  • Link to the person who tagged you in your post and to this original postif possible so we can track it as it travels across the blogsphere .
  • Tag 5 more blogs with links .
  • Don’t forget to leave a comment in the tagged blogs with an invitation to play.

This is harder than I thought and my poor brain is sooo tired.

Six words for all 54 years of this crazy life, huh?

“She refused to follow the recipe”.

There. I almost wrote “She failed to follow the recipe” but that would imply that I actually tried. I never wanted to. Teaching cooking classes all those years made me realize there are two kinds of people: the ones who follow ALL the rules. These are the people who dutifully measure ingredients and never, ever substitute! And then there are people for whom recipes are simply guideposts. We like to find a path slightly different from all the rest while still arriving at our destinations.

OK, and now I tag:

2lazydogs

anja

disismyplace

javaqueen

mentalfloss

Have fun, children!

 

 

 

I Was Hungry

I was hungry tonight. Not just in a  “oh, that sounds good” kinda way. I’m  talkin’ an  ” I need FOOD” sorta way.

 I used to think I could easily become a vegetarian. I didn’t care if I had animal flesh or not. Oh, sure, I liked a burger as much as the next person but did I need it ? Nah… Soy burgers with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and mayo were so goooood!!!

  Then I started working weights at the gym. I loved that shit. I was doing 300 lbs. on the leg presses and bench pressing 150 lbs. ! I may be a girl but I could kick your ass!!! I would come home after an hour and a half of cardio and a full ab workout and oh, shit, did I need meat!! I tried Egg Beaters for a while and that was OK, but then I started defrosting fillet mignons and pork cutlets for lunch! I needed the protein!!!  I was doing three one-hour spinning classes a week after  working on arms or abs for the day!! Crazy! But I loved it! I was the local “gym rat”!

 Since then I am a complete and utter carnivore. I crave beef especially.  Burger, you say? Hell, yeah!

 Tonight I was really hungry and I recognized that kind of hunger from my gym days. I had been working outside all day , real physical work, from 8:30 a.m. till 6 p.m. and I was starved! I had leftover Chinese food from the other night so I warmed that up in the microwave. Kung Pao Chicken, leftover rice. I ate it all and was craving more! I found some ice cream in the freezer and there was a brownie leftover from the weekend so  I had a nice brownie a la mode for dessert.

 Now I want to puke. I found a picture that kinda says it all.

 I mean I really wish I could go stick a finger down my throat and regurg this mess I just ate!

 Do you ever get like this: so hungry  you eat  like a crazy person them feel guilty because you ate so much?

 I wish I could have a healthier relationship  with my body and food and my size. I am not fat. I have BEEN fat but I am not fat now.

 I don’t fit a “healthy” BMI  (Body Mass Index) because I seriously carry too much muscle and the BMI doesn’t take that into consideration. I do not fit the profile of ultra-thin model-like waifness. I never have and I know I never will and that’s just fine with me.  The same way I know when my clothes get tight I need to drop a few pounds NOW!

 Tonight I  just feel bloated from all the food I ate. I don’t like that feeling. Do you feel tempted to “get rid of it” when you overindulge?  I won’t purge. I just understand the people who may feel the need to do so now.

 Yuck. I don’t like this feeling of over-fullness! I’m going to go to bed and hope that  when I wake up           I’ll feel normal!

 

 

Pay Back

                                                                                                                                                                           I just crack up at the things my grandson Cole says. He talks up a storm but you have to pay attention because as a 2-year-old he has a few “peach inspediments”!

 When he was a tiny baby I would take him out on the porch at my house and we’d watch the big semi trucks go by hauling bottled water from the water company next door. He loved those big trucks. Every time we’d hear one coming I’d say “Here comes a BIG truck !”  He’d get so excited.

Then last month when a storm blew down a huge branch onto my driveway Cole came over with his mom and he was amazed at the “big stick !”  Nana had lying in front of her garage. I called it a big stick because he likes to pick up the sticks that fall down around the tree line in his yard and throw them over the fence. I don’t think he knows the word “branch” so I used “stick” to help him define the thing.

 A few days ago my daughter came over with Cole while D. was here and she said ” Have you heard Cole’s new words ?” I shook my head and she said ” Cole, say “big truck !” and he said “big fuck !” Then she said “Cole, say big stick !” and he said “big dick !”

 She is so sorry she did that. Everytime we see her now D. points to me and says “Big Truck !” and I point to him and say “Big Stick !”

Then we grin.

  She hates that.

Looking Back on a Year

  Next month will be the one year anniversary of the day D. and I actually, physically met

It was July 13th, a Friday. I was terrified.

 I first started getting to know him when I stumbled upon a free dating site. It was based in Canada and most of the people there were from Canada with a few upstate New Yorkers thrown in the mix. I had been separated from my husband for two years and I hadn’t even wanted to think about dating. My husband,from here on to be referred to as the STBE(soon-to-be-ex), on the other hand had moved in with his “girlfriend” less than three months after he left. I thought I never wanted to have to deal with a man in a relationship again. It was that painful. But by the end of two whole years of watching all my married friends be their cozy couple selves I was feeling more than a little lonely.

 So I picked a fake name, wrote a brief, honest bio on the site and waited. I was shocked at the number of hits I got immediately! A week or two into learning the ropes on a dating site I got a message from a guy who referred to himself as “dabear”. We had a lot in common and we hit it off right away.

  After chatting online for a couple of weeks he asked if he could call me on the phone and I hesitatingly gave him my number. I thought that might be a bit stupid of me but I did it anyway. He called the next night at 8 o’clock and we began a ritual of phone conversations that lasted for 2 to 3 hours every night. We talked about everything and I found that a man could actually hold an intelligent conversation !! Wow! It was an epiphany!

  He and I soon realized we wanted to meet in person but he lived three and a half hours away and so getting together for coffee was kinda out of the question. He suggested we meet in Ithaca which is roughly haflway between us.

  I had a huge dilemma. Should I put  this 53-year-old body of mine in the car and drive north and risk being a huge disappoinment to a man I liked very much or do I deny the fact that if this was ever going to go somewhere we needed to know!  I never even considered that maybe I wouldn’t like him when I saw him.

  Reluctantly and fearfully I agreed to meet him the following weekend. He mapped out my route and we booked rooms at a hotel there.

  I cannot describe how terrified I was.  My self-esteem was really low. I felt that he would take one look at me and think he’d made a huge mistake even though I had honestly described myself to him. I don’t know how I found the courage to get in that car but somehow I did.

 It was July 13th, a Friday. Friday the Freakin’ Thirteenth!! Not a good omen, I’m thinking as I started out on the drive. I’m in the car driving to meet a man called “dabear” (I knew his real name by then of course!) What do I know about this guy? Umm, he loves bears! He collects them. He’s divorced for the past 6 years. He is a Software Engineer. He owns his own home. He has no kids. He likes to hike and loves wine. I had learned a bunch of facts and feelings as we had talked all those many long nights on the phone.  I already was halfway in love with him!

  As I was driving my little Subaru along the Delaware River there were almost no vehicles on the road to distract me from my thoughts so when I saw several motorcycles headed towards me in the opposite lane I payed attention. Just as I could see the first rider clearly a black bear came running out of the tree line on my side of the road, crossed in front of me and ran right smack into that  first motorcyclist! The driver layed that  big bike down and slid for many,  many yards and came to a complete stop exactly next to my car. I had hit the brakes hard because I didn’t want to hit either him or the bear!  The riders behind him all came up to us within seconds and as I put my window down and opened my door, I could hear the injured rider moaning. His friends shouted to me , asking if I had a cell phone and I told them I did. They asked me to call 911 but I couldn’t get a signal!  That happens often along these rural roadways with the mountains and valleys blocking reception. I told him I would drive a ways down the road and find a way to either use my phone or find a house and ask someone to call for me.  I got about two miles north and my cell phone became functional again so I called the emergency number and gave them the information.

 By then I started to shake. I realized I could easily have been the one to hit that bear and perhaps lose control of my car and end up nose-first down the riverbank! I felt terrible to have had to witness that poor man’s accident and injury! The bear, by the way, scampered away, seemingly unharmed. He disappeared into the woods on the opposite side of the road. I could see him climbing the ridge right above the road for a while.

 As I was driving I was thinking “Trisha, you are crazy! It’s Friday the 13th and you’ve just seen a bear almost kill a man! Don’t you think it’s an omen, you dumb bitch? ‘dabear’…DUH!!”

 I swear I almost turned that car around several times and went home but I didn’t. I drove on to Ithaca and the moment I saw him in the lobby of that hotel my heart skipped a beat. He saw me and smiled. It was a warm and wonderful smile and as I came closer I put my hand out to him and he took my hand and pulled me to him and right in that lobby in front of a dozen other guests  he gave me the most romantic kiss I have ever had in my life. It was perfect.

 For two days we got to know one another more and more. We went off touring the wineries around the Finger Lakes, stopping for meals at little cafes and restaurants, talking, always talking! And kissing. The days were good.  The last night there was even better.  Hmmmm…..

  I can’t believe how lucky I am to have found this man. Lucky Friday the 13th!

 

 

I happen to love Sowa’s print of the Little Girl and the Bear. I have had a copy of it for a long time. When D. saw it he said it was us. He’s so right. It has that feeling…..

Blisters, Sweat, and Black Flies

                                             

   I decided the other day that since my divorce may be coming through relatively soon that I may want to take a little advantage of “our” charge accounts. I wouldn’t normally be so grasping but the other day my STBE (Soon-To-Be-Ex) was bitching and complaining about how shitty his finances were, how his bills were piling up and the money “just isn’t coming in fast enough”.

 Then two days ago I was outside when this big pick-up pulled in the driveway. A very nice-looking young man came walking up the sidewalk and said ” hello, M’am. (gack!) My name is Chet and I was wondering, is that your farm across the street, ’cause I notice that the wood fence over there really needs painting?”  I told him that yes, it was sorta mine but that it really was under the domain of my STBE. He said that he comes through every year and does work for a farmer we know who is well respected in the area. (I was thinking that I would check that reference, if need be.)   He wanted to paint the fence and asked who he needed to speak with about it and I told him my STBE’s name and told him to go across the street to see him at our business there. He said he’d been there and that the door was locked, I realized that it was 12:15 and the STBE never misses a meal so I told the young man to go back after one o’clock.

This sweet-talking guy then offers to give me an estimate on my old barn roof and I told him to knock himself out as long as the estimate was free and he said yes, it was. He went down to look the old barn over and while he was gone I checked out his truck. The liscence plate said he was from Virginia! That explained the lovely southern drawl!

He came back and gave me a story about how it would normally cost me about $1600 to do a roof that rusty but he would do it for only $1200.  I laughed and told him that was about $1150 more than I had at the moment. He scratched his head, got quiet for a couple of minutes, and said something about how he had several can of that roofing paint on his truck and how he really wanted to get it out of there so he could pick up more barn paint in the morning and “hey, I tell ya what… ” he said, ” what would you give me to do it? I take checks and credit cards!”

 I swear the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. This was a classic con game! I said ” I don’t make decisions about money that quickly so just leave me your card and maybe I’ll let you know.” He said “well, M’am, when might I be hearing from you?” and I said ” when I win the lottery!”

 Late that evening as I was having dinner with my daughter from across the street I recounted this story to her and she said ” That guy must be the one I saw over there painting today!” He must have  conned the STBE into hiring him! The daughter called her father and said ” hey, Dad, how much is that guy charging you to paint the fence?”  “$1200 !  You probably could have hired him for half that!”

 The next morning I went over and saw two older black men doing the painting from a truck with the painter’s name on it . The young man was probably off conning some other poor sucker into paying him top dollar for watered down paint. But I realized that my STBE was not worried about money as much as he professed! The fence is not the biggest priority around here!

So yesterday I went to our local hardware store and charged three gallons of deck stain and a couple of brushes. I plan to go back tomorrow and buy a socket wrench set and some garden hoses! Charge it!

 That was yesterday. I then scrubbed the deck with Clorox and Simple Green and a brush. It took 5 hours to get it clean enough. I let it dry overnight and today I spent 6 hours staining the damned thing! The flies were driving me insane and I couldn’t swat at them because I was sticky with cedar stain all over my hands!  It’s pretty big, 20’X20′ and then there are steps down to another landing and then more steps and rails and posts and uprights and risers and oh hell! I am so achy tonight! I finally got done!! It looks great!

 I went out a little while ago to admire my handiwork. The birds have already shit on it.

Boy, I showed him!