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Friday, February 16, 2018

Free For All Friday: Some This 'N That Bric-A-Brac Gets Thrown Out (And It's Not Even Thursday)

Let's have a bit of This 'n That, which also happens to be the weather forecast for NEO. Please don't mistake that for A Complaint; I can look out and see grass in the Dept. front yard, and yesterday it was 58 degrees. Today, although it is a full twenty degrees colder, we are not anticipating sn*w, so...Good News.

Anyway.

Here's some Brain Bric-a-Brac I need to download (or is that upload?  I always goof that up):

1. Teacher Tuesday On Friday. I feel like the cumulative IQ of Our Nation is dropping precipitously, thanks to 45* and the moronic spew he emits as well as the elevation of the ninnies who elected him. Everywhere I look I see errors in...well, everything. Not too terribly long ago, I read this comment online: You really nailed it on the head! This individual obviously customized the well-known idiom You hit the nail on the head, which is already perfectly fine and makes more sense.

I also would like to clarify the meanings of the words in this group: pique, peak, peek, also found misused online. Here they are, used correctly in sentences.
The new cat toy didn't pique Webster's interest one bit.
It's not like Fabio is at the peak of his career.
I'm ready to give you a sneak peek at the new me.

2. A Discontinued Product Is Back! Way back in 2011, I lamented and cursed the demise of Reynolds Plastic Wrap. It was such a great product, mainly because its box had a slidey little cutter thing that made using the wrap so easy. Well, it's back! I wish I could take credit for its return after a seven-year hiatus, but I cannot. Instead, I will chortle in my joy and hope that some other Discontinued Products That I Miss will return as well (Oil of Olay facial bar soap, hear my plea).

3. Monday Meme On Friday: Quick Fact Rundown.
~*~My fantasy basketball record right now is 14-3; I have the second-best record in the league (and am the only woman).
~*~I watched Big Little Lies on HBO Now and was enthralled by the acting but stressed out by the stories. So good!
~*~I'm feeling so much better that I have been Primary Snow Shoveller here at the Dept.
~*~I started another knitting project and sorted stash yarn for yet another.
~*~I have Thrown Out Thursdayed even more stuff.  (And discovered moth damage in my yarn. Sigh.)

Check in, won't you, in Comments?

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Friday, February 09, 2018

As Seen On TV...Almost

Scene opens on Living Room. Dinner is over; it is approximately 7 PM. Rick is in his chair. Nance enters from the bedroom where she has just changed into her pajamas and heads past him to the small trunk where she keeps blankets. She draws out a patchwork quilt backed with flannel and heads to the couch. Out of nowhere, both cats trot over to her, waiting.

Nance: Holy crap, do you see this? It's ridiculous. (curls up on couch, spreads out comforter, and both cats jump up onto it, with enormous orange cat claiming her lap)

Rick: (chuckling) Well, that's what you wanted. You wanted a cat to keep you company and be on your lap.

Nance: I know, but this is all the time. Every single time I sit down. (orange cat begins snoring) And now, I can't move. I simply cannot move.

Rick: Nance, it's a cat. You're bigger than he is. Maybe not by much, but you are. If you need to move, just move. You know he'll come right back.

Nance: That's not nice. Piper knows he's fat. But I hate to bother him when he's not feeling well. He's been so stuffy lately.

Rick: I know. I can hear him over the TV.

Nance: (getting fussy)  Both cats rushed me, and now I can't move. I want this light off, and I can't reach it.  (sighs, then brightly)  You know what I need? I need The Clapper.

Rick: You what? The Clapper?

Nance: Yeah. That thing for old people. Then I could just clap this light off. It would be great!

(Rick is looking at her with increasing suspicion and disbelief. He is not sure if she is serious or, at this point, even sane.)

Nance: (continuing excitedly) What would even be better is if The Clapper could multitask. Like, right now, I can't reach the light. But I also can't reach my water, my phone, or even my iPad. What if The Clapper could get those things for me? Now that is something I really need.

Rick: (in the spirit now) It could clean the shitboxes for you, too!

Nance: I don't really mind that job. Litter has come such a long way that it's almost nothing to do it. But if The Clapper could put my jammies on me and wash my face every night while I just sit here on my couch under my blanket, I'd take it!

Rick: How about if it just finds your Chapstick?

Nance: (big sigh) Yeah. For sure...that, too.

End scene.

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Friday, February 02, 2018

A Winter's Tale: Sadly, A True Story

Even with large doses of Vitamin D, I still fight through Seasonal Affective Disorder during NEO's interminable winters. I employ lots of different strategies with varying success. Trying to stay physically and mentally active can be frustrating, and I often find myself wondering if I'm losing the battle.

Like The Day I Lost My Chapstick.

This winter has been taxing on my skin, hair, eyes, and lips. I'm trying everything to stay hydrated, and I've never gone through lip balm like this before. I've taken to having three tubes at the ready: one in my purse, one on my nightstand, and one in the living room on the table next to my chair and couch corner. I've finally found one that works great for me, and I'm hanging onto it like Grim Death because I know damn well it is Destined To Be Discontinued like every single other product I have ever loved and gotten attached to.

But I digress.

Last week, I must have retrieved my Livingroom Lip Balm eleventy hundred times from the floor (and under furniture) because it suddenly became a Cat Toy for Marlowe, the grey cat who, every once in a while, knocks stuff down that belongs only to me. It was largely okay, until the day that I really needed my chapstick. And couldn't find it. I had been folding laundry, and I reached over for it, and...not there. I looked over on the table. Nope.

With a heavy sigh, I took Marlowe's name in vain and got down on the floor. I searched under the couch. Nothing. I grabbed my phone for a flashlight and looked again. I looked under both chairs, the huge ottoman, and the coffee table. Nothing. By this time, I was just outright aggravated. Because now I knew that it wasn't Marlowe's fault anymore. It was my own. I had probably grabbed it and put it in a coat pocket when I went out for a walk or something.

In the closet I went through the pockets of both coats I wore--twice. "God. Damn. It," I said, carefully raising the level of my voice after each word. I dropped to my knees on the floor of the closet and looked around. It wasn't there.

I was outraged. I was incredulous. My lips were chapped! This was becoming a Sanity Challenge, and I had to win.

I emptied my purse onto the table in the breakfast nook. Not there. I rooted through the drawer in my bedside table. Not there. (But did I use the lip balm in that drawer? HELL NO! I AM NOT A QUITTER! I AM NOT THE KIND OF PERSON WHO BOWS TO EXPEDIENCE IN TIMES OF CRISIS!  I HAVE INTEGRITY!) Next up, my clothes closet: all garments with pockets yielded nothing. Ditto the dresser drawers.

Throughout most of this search, I was talking to myself--loudly--but not in encouraging terms. "Where in the hell IS it? I only put it ONE PLACE! This could not BE any more FU**ING ridiculous! I am losing my goddam mind!" Finally, I admitted defeat. I dragged my shameful, chapped-lipped, weary sadness into the living room and plopped on the couch like the addle-brained loser I was. Piper immediately jumped into my lap. I felt somewhat comforted, despite the shower of hair that came with him.

I was exhausted. I leaned over and grabbed my huge tumbler of ice water and gratefully drank several gulps. When I turned to put the water glass back on the coaster, I saw it, my chapstick. It had been there, hidden by my bigass waterglass the whole time.

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Sunday, January 28, 2018

Our Finger Is On The Pulse Of The Nation: A New Feature Here At The Dept. Of Nance


Ladies and Gentlemen, we here at The Big Simple Polls, LLC, have our collective finger on the pulse of the nation. At times like these, it's important to know what Joe and Sally Citizen are thinking. Too often, talking heads, policy wonks, and Washington insiders get caught up in D.C. skulduggery and beltway mumbo jumbo. It's up to regular people--like us!--to bring all that political jibber jabber and Internet noise into focus and boil it down to something clear, easy, and basic. That's why we call ourselves The Big Simple: we ask the big, simple questions to people just like you and get answers that are, well, big and simple!

Here are two questions we polled recently and their responses below. We have given you two easy-to-understand pie charts to assist you. I think you'll agree that The Big Simple Polls, LLC, has not only assisted you in understanding these issues, but also distilled them into their most basic form.

Question 1: Is the current president doing a good job?



Question 2: Would you trust the current president to tell the truth under oath?


Until next time, Keep It Simple!


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Thursday, January 18, 2018

Whoever Said Money Can't Buy Happiness Probably Didn't Feed His Pets Blue Buffalo And Have S.A.D.


Let me warn you now: my brain has turned to Polar Mush, and I take no responsibility for the coherence of this post. Yesterday, I literally Gave Up at 3:30 PM when I realized that my furnace, even after running continually, still had not attained its Goal Temperature. Which meant that I was not going to attain mine, either. I hurriedly (and shivering-ly) finished prepping dinner, made stuff for Rick's lunches for the remainder of the week, and then zoomed into the bedroom where I put on my fleece jammies with the feet attached. This roused the attention of both cats, whose bliss was complete once they saw me grab my grandmother's flannel-backed comforter and hit the couch with my pillow and remote.

When I Give Up, I Mean Business.

I'm tired of Winter. I'm sick of being trapped inside by single-digit wind chills and icy walkways. Snow is not pretty if it's been sitting out there for weeks making everything so much more difficult and being tracked inside making things wet. (I don't think it's ever, ever "pretty.") The glare off that stuff is impressive when the sun shines; I don't need to put any lights on in the house all day long. It's hell when I have a headache.

I know: bitch, bitch, bitch. And I was going to behave myself and count my Blessings forever. I still do, but there's no halo on my head or wings hiding under my sweater. This isn't the Dept. of Pollyanna.

But here's a Happiness! And like many True Happinesses, it caught me completely by surprise and came in an unassuming, ordinary conveyance.

Rick came home from work and retrieved the mail from the porch. Sometimes I dread this--particularly when I'm crabby or have just cleaned up the living room from all detritus--because he will often toss any and all junk mail addressed to me on my lap, even though he knows it belongs in the recycle bin. The rest of it goes onto the coffee table, waiting.  It just makes more work for me, and I don't even bother to open it. Or, he'll toss financial statements with my name on them to me, again knowing that he is the one who deals with them, not me.

But I digress.

Rick got the mail and tossed me an envelope. I rolled my eyes and then looked at the return address. It was from Blue Buffalo Litigation, Settlement Department. "Oh, hey!" I said. "I forgot about joining this Blue Buffalo pet food class action lawsuit. Geeze, it was such a long time ago. It was something about...I don't even remember. I read about it online and filed online, too." As I was talking, I was opening the envelope and taking out a check.

And then my eyes popped out of my head, fell on the carpet, became covered with cat hair, and Rick had to go rinse them off before he could stick them back into my face, where my mouth was hanging open like a drawbridge welcoming the procession of the Knights Of The Roundtable returning from a quest.

Because the check was for $108.69.

I got OVER ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS OF FREE MONEY IN THE MAIL. From a class action lawsuit. It's incredible.

I've joined lots of class action lawsuits that I've been eligible for in the past, and the most I've gotten has been maybe fifteen bucks. I could not get over it.  Almost as good as seeing a patch of grass in my yard...someday.

Warmed me right up.

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Tuesday, January 09, 2018

A New Year's Story (Somewhere, Charles Dickens Is Smiling)

Last Thursday, after grocery shopping with a lighter heart since Things Are Back To Normal, I was steering my Prius back home, barely grimacing at That Horrid Taco's Sign. It was so cold, but at least it was sunny, and I had a car full of groceries, good news from the doctor the day before, and dinner already planned in my head. It was such a Good Day!

I almost didn't see the man standing on the street corner at the busy three-way stop. He was muffled in a scarf and hat, and he was wearing a brown canvas coat that didn't look very warm. As I came up to the intersection, he turned around, and I saw he was holding a sign:
 PLEASE HELP
 HOMELESS AND HUNGRY.

The snow around the sidewalks where he was standing was piled up about fourteen inches, and in the extreme cold, had turned to ice. There were deep frozen ruts about a foot into the street, making his chosen spot a precarious one. It was also not a very smart one. Traffic coming from one direction had no stop at all, and in order for him to reach any car that did manage to stop and block this very busy intersection, he had to navigate terrible terrain. Had he merely moved to a small parking lot across from the Taco's sign fifty feet away, he'd have had a much easier time of it.

Traffic nudged me, and I had to move along. But instead of turning left at the light a block ahead, I turned right, circled back, and came around again. I was lucky--traffic had slowed, and I could stay in my lane to call him over. He was jumping up and down a bit in his tennis shoes, trying to get warm. I honked my horn a little over the noise of a loud truck idling nearby to get his attention. He turned around, and I leaned over in the seat toward my open passenger's side window.

He carefully stepped toward my car, picking his path through the icy mounds and slippery ruts. I wasn't sure if I should look at him: would it embarrass him? I glanced at him briefly and glimpsed some of the tiredest eyes I think I have ever seen. I could see that he was young, and I felt a surge of pity. "Here," I said, as I offered him a ten, "I--"

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, ma'am, and God Bless! God Bless you, ma'am!" His blue eyes glistened and he had a West Virginian accent. His cheeks were red and patched with cold, white places.

I became almost overwhelmed with...what? Embarrassment? Shame? "I hope things turn around for you soon," I said. I checked my mirrors and drove on into traffic, headed home, thinking about my December worries and how they stacked up--or, more accurately, didn't--to this man's.

To many, many people's.

When the Universe strives so mightily to Teach Me A Lesson, it is important that I not miss the opportunity to Learn It. This young man on the corner was sort of my New Year's Jacob Marley, but I won't need to be introduced to the rest of the cast.

Message Received.

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Tuesday, January 02, 2018

In Which I Update You On December And Forge Ahead

I'm just going to jump right in and Flex My Writing Muscles with a Spontaneous Post. December was a long and arduous month, and just getting through it felt like a Full-Time Job. Wouldn't it be nice if Christmas could be during the summer when zipping around is easier and you're not all bundled up like a first-time mom's new baby in about a hundred layers so that when you try to do anything you're rolling around, or worse yet, waddling? Ugh.

And yes, I know, not all of you are reading this in the grips of The Polar Vortex.

Anyway.

December.

1. Not Merry: On December 1st, Rick was fired. Long story short, the company that recruited him to start up and run a new division decided to all of a sudden not have that division. They gave him no severance. Then they contested his unemployment benefits (of course, it took all month for that to be deemed meritless).

2. Nance Meltdown: Needless to say, this was not something I was ready for. Without getting into all the boring minutiae of my health, let me simply say that it was a concern for both Rick and me. The strain of worry about finances, both immediate and long-range, was enormous, and no amount of reassurance--from anyone--could help me.

3. Living Together: I am used to being home alone (with cats Piper and Marlowe) all day long. There is a certain ebb and flow to my days, and I am a creature of habit. It was extraordinarily difficult to share that time with Rick, who would wake up, come into the living room where I was silently having coffee and reading the paper, and turn on the television (loudly) so that he could watch the morning news. I felt edgy and...watched. As if I had to Have A Plan. "What are you doing today?" he would ask innocently. My first reaction was to feel bristly and almost defensive. It was Completely Insane, and I knew it. I was on a hair trigger; things were Not Normal, and it was all just Fear.

4. Projects: Aside from Finding A Job being Rick's job, he tackled cleaning out his area of the basement, which gave him plenty to do and kept him safe from me. I also continued my own Throw It Out projects, expanding my reach to several of my bureau drawers, a storage closet upstairs, a section of my closet, and next on the list is my upstairs linen cabinet, home to all the bed linens for the house.  And there was also the biggest project of them all...

5. Christmas: This year, we plundered our stash of Secret Money and had a Cash Christmas. Nothing on the credit card to pay off in January.  Rick and I did all the shopping together as well as the wrapping.  I cancelled the Big Family Christmas Eve Open House, traditionally held at my home for the past 30 years. I knew the stress and workload would flatten me. Jared and Sam came over and we had wine and heavy appetizers and relaxed. On Christmas Day, Zydrunas came too, and we hung out, resurrected Wii Bowling, and watched Z destroy a toy. On the 26th, Rick and I took down all the Christmas, put the tree on the curb, and took some deep breaths.

6. Wine Therapy: Although I am not one to recommend drinking as a medication, I will say that our wine cellar played a large role in my December Survival. Without it, I would have spent the entire month brittle, fragile, tightly wound, and probably never smiling even once. Bonus: I am even more adept at food and wine pairings now.

7. Saving The Best For Last: Today, Rick started back to work. In a rare and truly wonderful twist of Fate, he is working at the company where he was previous to the one that fired him. He left there on good terms; his boss knew that Rick had been given an opportunity which, at the time, was one he couldn't pass up. He's been welcomed back with such warmth and good cheer that it's overwhelming.

And now, I am done sharing all that Unpleasantness. Certainly--and I know this for a fact--we are not the only ones to have had this hardship, and we are in much better shape than so very many people who have been--and are still going--through it. I am grateful for our resources and know how fortunate we are.

I do think, however, that it's Important in this Age Of InstaPinFace to put some Real Life out there once in a while. My December wasn't picture perfect with each day bringing its own little Christmas Miracle. Some days were good, some...not so much. Some days I had to Just Let Go and hope things would get Better. As many of you know, that's a tough one for me.

But here I am.  And On We Go.

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