The Saturday Photo(s) Part IX

For today, a little eye candy. Well, at least my version of it. I just love these guys:

Brendan Fraser

 

David Boreanaz

 

Harrison Ford

 

Lyle Lovett

 

Mike Rowe (It's a dirt job, but someone's gotta do it)

Lazy, Lazy, Lazy

I’m just posting something quick to say I’m still here!

Blogging ideas are not coming fast and furious lately, so I’m slacking a bit. But I promise to pick things back up soon, soon, soon.

The Sunday Quote Part X

This is one of my favorite songs from the musical Les Miserables, based on Victor Hugo’s novel. And, yes, I realize this is two Sundays in a row of Les Miserables, but it was the first thing  I saw when I opened my quote notebook, so deal with it. This song comes right before the beginning of the revolution, for context.

 

Drink with Me

Drink with me to days gone by
Sing with me the songs we knew

Here’s to pretty girls
Who went to our head

Here’s to witty girls
Who went to our beds

Here’s to them
And here’s to you

Drink with me
To days gone by

Can it be
You fear to die

Will the world remember you
When you fall

Could it be
Your death means nothing at all

Is your life
Just one more life

Drink with me
To days gone by

To the life
The used to be

At the shrine of friendship
Never say die

Let the wine of friendship
Never run dry

Here’s to you
And here’s to me

The Saturday Photo(s) Part VIII

A few weeks ago, I decided to give almonds a try as a snack. I've heard only good things, but thought I didn't like them. I bought some cinnamon and sugar almonds and they are very good. This was in my snack on January 7. I thought it was worth posting a photo.

What Would You Do?

I don’t know why, but this subject has been on my mind an awful lot lately, so I though I’d blog about it. Why the heck not?

When I was in middle school, there was a girl who rode my bus who was often the target of ridicule. We’ve all been there, most of us on both sides at one point or another. This girl was not beautiful. She was in what I’ll call her awkward phase.” She could have used some help with her hair, her nose was a little big and I think she wore braces, but I don’t remember for sure. The one thing she was not was overweight.

I never directly picked on her. But I laughed along with those who did and I didn’t say anything to stop it. I know that if I were the bad person this sounds like, I would not feel bad about this now. But I do.

I learned a couple of years after high school that this girl had been hospitalized a couple of times to treat anorexia nervosa. It makes me very sad that I was probably a part of the chain of events that led her to that. I don’t know where she is now or what she’s doing, but I really hope that she’s beaten her demons and is doing well.

I certainly didn’t escape the wonderful childhood ritual, either. In second grade, we had to sit at the lunch tables in the cafeteria in the order by which we entered. This put me across the table each and every day from a girl who called me The Ugly Duckling, and got all of her friends to do the same. Don’t ask me why she chose me, of all people. But she did. Strangely, we ended up being friends after that. This wasn’t the only incident, but it’s the one that sticks out. By middle school, any teasing stopped completely. Thankfully.

But I can’t help but compare these childhood issues to the world in general.

I’ve heard people say that if they lived in World War II Germany, they would not have been the ones to go along with the government (and the majority of Germans at the time). But how do they know that? They are not living in that reality. I wonder how many people would have said the same thing in 1925, but did it, anyway. I wonder how many times in history did otherwise good people turn into monsters along with the rest of the crowd?

I can only hope that my conviction that I would stand up for right in such a situation is true. Moreso, I hope I never have to find out.

UPDATE: Last night, I dreamed about Nazis. All night. Again. I don’t remember the details, but it wasn’t good. What is wrong with me?

Grasping at Straws and Keeping it Simple

This is the empty Tupperware container, where you can clearly see a little bit of the cinnamon and brown sugar still taunting me. Is it wrong that after I took this picture, I proceeded to lick the last of it straight out of the bottom?

 

I’m woefully lacking in blog post ideas this week. I don’t know why. I think I’m just tired of thinking. So, this will be short, simple and sweet (REALLY sweet). 

I always thought I hated nuts. I can tell you for certain I don’t like walnuts. I do like peanuts, but they’re not really nuts, so they don’t count. But I never really gave almonds a chance. I finally decided to let them out of the penalty box and go a round with me. 

I was in Publix last week looking for almonds that weren’t swimming in salt for my first go-round with the latest in my long list of “new foods to try” when I spotted Blue Diamond cinnamon and brown sugar almonds. I figured what better way to take the plunge than with my two oldest friends, so I bought them. And I ate some when I got home. And I loved them. 

On Tuesday, I took the last of the almonds to work for a snack, and in pouring them out of the bottle and into my little Tupperware container, out came the cinnamon and sugar that had fallen to the bottom of the container. I didn’t realize this happened until I opened the container at work and began eating my little slices of heaven one nut at a time. 

When I finished the nuts, I put that Tupperware container to my mouth and poured the cinnamon and sugar right in. And it was good. And I’m not sorry. 

Am I a freak? Was this wrong? Do I care? 

Whatever the answers to those questions, I highly recommend the experience.

In Memory of One of the Greats

I didn’t even know she was still alive. I guess I assumed she died years ago.

I was wrong.

She died two days ago.

Miep Gies, one of the people who kept Anne Frank, her family and several other Jews alive in an office building’s annex, and who discovered Frank’s diary, died Monday. She was 100 years old.

I cried while reading the article linked above. I think it says enough, so I won’t elaborate.

Bits and Pieces

I lived in the middle of nowhere for a good part of my life. Most of my neighbors were farmers and there was a big ol’ hayfield across the street.

In all those years, I never once saw a single fox.

This morning, on my way to work, a fox ran in front of my car on a major four-lane road in the middle of the city. I thought it was a cat at first. It was pretty cool. I hope it didn’t have rabies.

Mornings

I don’t hate my job. I really don’t even dislike it. But I hate getting out of bed in the morning to go to the office. It’s such a comfortable (and these days warm!) place.

What’s funny is that some days, I can do it with no problem. Yesterday morning, I got up when Chris did, took a few minutes to really wake up and then got on the elliptical for an hour. This morning? I hit snooze for a full 40 minutes before finally dragging myself out of bed and getting into the shower.

Cold

No matter how long I live in the South, I will always been a Northerner. Temperatures down here have been in the teens in the mornings, and some days haven’t gotten above 40. I have yet to put on a coat.

However, the other day we had to walk across the street at work for a meeting. It was about 55 with a very warm sun shining down. My Floridian coworkers were wearing winter coats, hats and gloves and couldn’t believe I wasn’t at least wearing a coat.

A Bloodletting

The scene of the original crime?

This was going to be a Saturday Photo entry, but I decided it’s too good of a story for that. So, onward:

Last Tuesday evening, I worked out on my elliptical for an hour, got in the shower and soaped up. Before I had a chance to rinse off the suds, Emma came into the bathroom in a panic.

“Lily’s bleeding from her head and her back and there’s blood all over the living room!” she told me.

I rinsed off, grabbed a towel and ran downstairs. Emma was holding Lily, holding a towel to the wounds. And then there was the blood. Apparently, Lily thought my living room would look much better with red walls and carpet because she used what turned out to just be a scratch on her ear to paint the living room. Red droplets covered the entire carpet and a few spots on the off-white flat painted walls.

One of the "painted" walls.

Chris was out, so I called and asked him to pick up some OxyClean spot carpet cleaner — at least three bottles, please. Not to brag, but I know the stuff works. This, you see, was not my first time having to scrub blood out of my living room carpet. Although, last time, there was a lot less of it. That’s a story for another time and involves a large black cat rather than a small, obnoxious dog.

Although, for all I know, this incident also involved the same large black cat. Or a small white one. Or a small Siamese mix. I’m not sure — and will probably never know — which cat inflicted the mortal wound. It doesn’t matter. Lily hasn’t learned to stop chasing them, even after this particular incident.

I couldn’t do much until Chris got home, so I went back upstairs, finished my shower and then proceeded to clean what I could with the tiny bit of OxyClean I had in the house. Chris showed up shortly after with three bottles of OxyClean … laundry stain remover.

This, my friends, is probably a godsend if you have several loads of blood-stained laundry. It does not, however, work on carpet. Chris thought since it said it removed blood, it would be just fine.

Off to the store, which was ridiculously busy considering the time of night, but I guess it was just my luck. Three bottles of the correct cleaner later, I changed into shorts and a T-shirt, threw my hair up in a scrunchie and set to work with the carpet cleaner and what eventually turned out to be two old towels.

A trail leading to the victim? Or culprit?

It took a total of four and a half hours, but the carpet no longer shows a single sign that it was once the scene of an attempted murder. I tried to clean the walls, but only managed to fade the spots. Someone suggested I try the Mr. Clean eraser. I’ll let you know if that works. It is flat paint, after all. Did I mention that? Nothing cleans flat paint.

And for those readers who like to drink, I’ll add that the Oxy stuff works on red wine, too. I learned that when a poor dinner guest spilled hers on my carpet. She panicked. I reached for the bottle. Everything turned out fine.

Splatter

The Sunday Quote Part IX

He is asleep. Though his mettle was sorely tried,
He lived, and when he lost his angel, died.
It happened calmly, on its own,
The way night comes when day is done.

Victor Hugo, “Les Miserables”