Friday, December 23, 2016

Fly On The Wall During The Holiday Season

Welcome to another edition of Fly On The Wall group blog postings, hosted by Karen of Baking In A Tornado. Today, eight bloggers are opening the doors to their homes to give you a glimpse of their private lives if you care to eavesdrop on some pretty crazy stuff. If nothing else, it will make you realize that you are not the ONLY one living in a looney bin. Every family has their share of the crazies, and mine is no different.

If you were a fly on the wall in my home this past week, you would have heard me cursing up a storm, because planet Mercury decided to mess with me once again. I've written about "Mercury Retrograde" before, and I swear, it's a real thing. Sure, there are plenty of nonbelievers out there, but let me tell you a little story of woe about my week from technology/electronic hell. In the course of six days, my computer crashed, the jets on my new hot tub stopped working, two of my indoor ceiling fans broke, three of my brand new outdoor holiday lawn decorations fritzed out, and then my car died. To add insult to injury, my once sturdy towel rack fell off the wall while I was showering and the plug to my favorite hair straightener snapped off in the electric outlet 30 minutes before I had to get ready to go to a party. Somebody hold me, please----I'm ready to murder Mercury.

Despite the streak of electronic bad luck I've had lately, there has been a frenzy of holiday activities going on around the Doyle house these past few weeks. The whole crew was here to celebrate a wonderful Thanksgiving, and as usual, while we were gathered around the dinner table, the conversation turned to food....as it always does.....

"You're not a Doyle male unless your overeat on Thanksgiving and throw up afterwards."

"Why are you breathing so heavy?"
"I'm practicing Lamaze for when I give birth to my holiday food baby. "

"The hot dogs have gone rogue. They abandoned their packaging and fell down into a bin at the bottom of the fridge."
"Yeah, I know about that bin---our refrigerator is an official wiener collector. "

"Has anyone ever told you that you look like a T-Rex when you get up in the middle of the night to pee?"
"I can't help it----my belly is too full so I have to keep my arms up, which makes them too short to reach the toilet paper roll."

"Why are you standing so long in front of an open refrigerator?"
"I'm looking for the answers to life....or maybe just a piece of pumpkin pie."

I hope everyone is enjoying the holiday season (without Mercury's interference) and I wish y'all a Merry Christmas & A Happy New Year!

Be sure to click on the links below for a peek into some other homes:

Baking In A Tornado http://www. bakinginatornado.com/

Menopausal Mother http://www.menopausalmom.com/

Spatulas on Parade http://spatulasonparade. blogspot.com/

Searching for Sanity http://singlemumplusone. blogspot.com

Never Ever Give Up Hope http://batteredhope.blogspot. com

Dinosaur Superhero Mommy http://dinoheromommy.com/

Southern Belle Charm http://www.southernbellecharm. com

A Little Piece of Peace http://little-piece-of-peace. blogspot.com

Friday, December 9, 2016

20 Curious Questions With 20 Quirky Answers

There's this silly questionnaire circulating around Facebook that caught my eye recently. The original copy has 30 questions, but since I have the attention span of a gnat, I shortened it to 20. I mean seriously, how much do you really want to know about me? I'm about as interesting as a two-day seminar on kitty litter manufacturing. But if you're a bit curious about my life and my opinions on things as earth shattering as my favorite ice cream flavor, then this post is for you.

1. Are you named after someone? I wish I could tell you that I'm named after someone famous, like Marcia Brady. But no, just my mother's best friend who was also named Marcia. Thank God Mom wasn't close to someone named Ethel.

2. When is the last time you cried? When I peeled pearl onions for Thanksgiving dinner. By the time I was on my third bag, I noticed the directions on the back of the package said to boil the onions for three minutes and then the skins would fall right off. That's when I really cried.

3. What is your favorite lunch meat? Liverwurst, even though I hate liver. Don't ask me to explain this phenomenon to you.

4. Do you have kids? Four that I know of. But there might be some seedpods floating around that I'm not aware of.

5. Do you use sarcasm? Only when I talk to people, because my dog doesn't listen to me.

6. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes, in a jar in Missouri. They just celebrated their 50th birthday.

7. Would you bungee jump? Only from my bed to the floor.

8. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Lucky Charms. Actually, I don't really like the cereal---just the marshmallow leprechaun charms inside the box. Which explains why my family refers to me as the Stealth Marshmallow Thief.

9. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? Ties? What ties? I live I'm Florida. We only wear flip flops here.

10. Do you think you're strong? I don't know----I haven't tried to pick up a Volkswagen lately.

11. What is your favorite ice cream? I can only pick one flavor?

12. What is the first thing you notice about people? Their teeth. If they're nasty, I have to wonder what other parts of their body they're not keeping clean.

13. What is the least favorite thing you like about yourself? Skin tags and a jelly belly. Ain't midlife grand?

14. What color pants are you wearing now? I'm not sure. The pair I'm wearing was once a solid color, but now it's covered in food stains and dog hair. So......camouflage.....I'm wearing camouflage.

15. What was the last thing you ate? I don't remember.... <BURP>. Oh yeah, it was pizza!

16. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Is there a color for pinot grigio?

17. Favorite smell? The lumber at Lowe's......the smell of construction (but NOT the construction workers).

18. Hair color? Blonde-fuchsia-purple. I'm just like Eric Carle's Mixed-Up Chameleon.

19. Favorite food to eat? Anything Mexican.....because I love to say, "Chimichanga."

20. Favorite movie? Titanic. What's not to love about a sinking ship, star-crossed lovers and a shortage of lifeboats?

Now that you know all of these idiotic facts about me, how 'bout if you take a turn? I challenge my fellow bloggers to write a post with the answers to all of these questions. Game on!

Friday, December 2, 2016

Writer Series: Wonderful Winter Guest Post by Anne Bardsley

I have the lovely and talented Anne Bardsley, author of How I Earned My Wrinkles, guesting on my site again today with a story that many of us females can relate to when it comes to our attempts at looking sexy. Most women I know covet good looking shoes, and probably own at least fifty pairs. When I was younger, I had no problem sporting some flashy stilettos when I hit the night clubs. But nowadays, I'm much happier in a pair of fuzzy slippers. Sadly, my floppy-eared bunny slippers are not acceptable at my favorite dining spots, so I have to strap on a pair of heels and wobble my way into the restaurant. Anne, however, braved it one night in a sexy pair of VERY high heeled shoes. God bless the woman---she has more courage (and stamina) than I do! I hope you enjoy her story, and please welcome her to Meno Mama's site today with lots of comment love!

My Blue Suede Heels

My husband is a connoisseur of women’s feet. He notices women’s shoes. We live in Florida where flip flops are considered formal wear. There is a never ending supply of amusement for him here. He likes high sexy heels on women (obviously). We’ll be at a restaurant and he’ll say, “Anne, check out her heels. You should get a pair of them.” I am five foot seven and I wear a size ten shoe. Sexy heels make me feel like Goliatha and Scott is David. I tower over my husband. He doesn’t care. He’s looking at my feet!

Since we’re empty nesters, I decided I should spice things up a bit. I went shopping for sexy, six- inch heels. When I tried them on, I had to lean on the saleswoman to stand. I couldn’t walk without assistance. It’s a strange angle when you’re six inches higher from the rear. My head stuck out at a strange angle. I looked like an angry, wild bird on a hunt. I felt like my outstretched head was leading my body and it wasn’t good. I was following myself! I bought the beautiful blue suede, six inch, heels anyway and proudly left the store feeling like a big sex kitten…with very pointy feet.

My husband wasn’t home yet so I prepared for his arrival. I put on a short skirt and sat in the chair with a drink at my side. I bounced my legs to show off my sexy heels. They looked so amazing. When he walked in the door he nearly fainted. “Surprise!” I yelled, laughing. I modeled the shoes from my chair, bouncing my legs.

“Let’s see you walk,” he suggested, as he smiled at me. I think he licked his lips too.

This was not a good idea. I was dreading the walk part. I sipped my drink and rose out of the chair at that strange angle. I leaned my head into my walk and looked like a mad ostrich on a hunt. I took three steps, swishing my hips as I pranced down my imaginary runway. Then I lost control. I couldn’t stop myself. I ended up in the kitchen braced by the counter. I literally ran through the living room like a runaway train, trying to stay upright.

“Where’d you go?” he yelled. “Come back so I can see you better.” I did my ostrich prance back towards the living room. I was six foot one in these heels and I was rolling. This was not a sexy dance, believe me. He finally got up and walked in front of me. I put my hands on his shoulders and he led me to the chair.

“Well let’s see them sitting down again,” he said. “You’ll have to practice walking in them.”

“I think these will be my sitting heels. I’ll get seated and you just serve me drinks.” This seemed like the best possible idea to prevent injuries.

“This is just not sexy,” I moaned. ‘Maybe I’m more the orthopedic shoe type.” I was sad, very sad. My playful sex kitten has turned into an old, ragged Tabby.

“Oh stop!” He interrupted my pity party.

“Let’s go dancing!” he shrieked. Before I know it were in the car. Next we were on the dance floor. We were in each other’s arms like young lovers. No one knew he was actually keeping me vertical. One loose step and I’d be off doing my ostrich dance and take out the entire band. Just the thought of it made me hold Scott tighter. We looked like honeymooners. A few older couples smiled at us. The top of his head came just below my chin. I kissed the top of his head tenderly. It was so romantic! Maybe my blue suede heels did have a place in my future after all.

“We could get you a helmet and knee pads to practice walking,” he whispered as we swayed to a slow dance. Or we can always use Pop’s walker and I can watch you walk from behind.” I stopped kissing his head at that moment and tried to bite him.

The vision of me wearing a hockey helmet, knee pads and a pushing walker in sexy, blue heels just deflated my playful plans. Fortunately, the walker had no slip tips to keep me upright. The most exciting news was it had place to hold my drink. After a few gulps of wine, I felt like a purring vixen again.

*** You can find Anne at her BLOG, TWITTER and her AMAZON PAGE.

Menopausal Mother

Pages