Menopausal Mother

     We survived the Y2K "computer crash" on December 31, 1999, and we surpassed the deadline of the Mayan calendar. But what about a zombie apocalypse?
     I am once again participating in a Secret Subject Swap with 17 other bloggers, hosted by Karen@http://www.bakinginatornado.com. My prompt this time comes from Jenn over at http://www.somethingclever2point0.com. Her question to me is: "What is your zombie plan?"
     I was actually pleased to get this prompt, because I live in Florida, home of the most notorious flesh-eating zombie stories of 2012. Zombie defense plans were all the rage last year, and after watching enough episodes of The Walking Dead, I think I am prepared to do battle. This folks, is how I plan to survive a zombie apocalypse:

1.  First, disguise myself as a zombie to fit in with the rotting rogues. I will do this by refraining from bathing for weeks, rolling in garbage and raw sewage, shredding my clothes, tossing out my toothbrush and skipping my daily naps for awhile. Of course at this point, none of my fellow humans will want to be downwind of me, either.

2.  Hone my growling, moaning and slobbering skills.

3.  Practice precision slicing of cantaloupes with a large machete.

4.  Stick wood planks down my pants in an effort to walk stiff-legged.

5.  Stockpile toilet paper, chipped beef, canned corn, beans and Little Debbie Cakes to eat secretly in my attic while the zombies are outside gnawing on human chicken wings.

6.  Build a mote around my house and fill it with zombie-eating alligators. Or perhaps piranhas would be more effective since they don't leave anything behind. The vultures in my special, ugly bird aviary will be allowed out each morning to eat the zombie leftovers. If they are too full to finish the gruesome banquet, I can always haul out the wood chipper/shredder to finish the job.

7.  Blast Judy Collins, Bette Midler and Barry Manilow songs from loud speakers to deter the zombies and make their brains explode.

8.  Douse myself in a perfume repellent known as "Eau De Zombie Poop".


9.  Trap the zombies by digging big holes in my yard and camouflaging them with leaves and branches. Once the zombies fall into the trap, I'll torch their asses.

10.  Place a large banner across my home that reads: "1st Annual Zombie Barbecue. If You're Human, They Will Come".  Then I'll sit behind the machine gun turrets on my roof and wait....


     As I go through my check list in preparation for the apocalypse, I realize all that is left is for me to slip into my special zombie gear.

     I'm ready for battle. Are you?

     Now that winter is actually approaching Florida (it's sixty degrees out..BRRR!) and the palm trees might be threatened by frostbite, I pulled out the winter clothes from the attic. Inside the trunk I found an old, leather jacket from my early mommy days. As I tried it on (and noticed it was a bit snug at the waist), I slipped my hands into the pockets and discovered unidentified objects from years past. My fingers delved into the deep depths of the unknown for hidden treasure, and this is what I found:

* One lint coated breath mint

* A faded receipt from a Star Trek convention along with one rubber Spock ear

* Fossilized stick of gum from 2001

* A key to a piece-of-crap minivan I unloaded 10 years ago

* Wadded-up tissue that had disintegrated into a pile of white ash

* A used strand of floss from a steak house

* An unwrapped tampon that had swelled up to the size of an airline pillow

* A clump of moss

* An uncapped, hairy stick of lip balm

* A petrified granola bar

* Ticket stubs to an outdoor concert where the Hubs got smashed and stumbled into the ladies room

* A champagne cork and two sea shells from a night of celebrating on the beach when we...well, you know...

* An arm from a Batman action figure

* A scrap of paper with a phone number to a turtle taxidermy shop

* Two quarters, a Heineken beer bottle cap and a baby's pacifier (sounds like a party to me!)

* A Barbie doll head. No comment.

* A cocktail napkin from Al and Suzy's wedding...the party lasted
longer than the marriage

* A matchbook from a hotel in Orlando where the fire alarm went off at 3:00 a.m. and we were herded like cattle out into the parking lot.  I learned that people at that hour of the morning look like they belong in a circus act or an episode of Swamp People


     After much consideration,  I decided to leave the contents in the pockets---it was a time capsule of sorts. One day my kids will inherit the jacket and wonder about the contents. I like to keep them guessing.

     If you've been reading my blog for any length of time now, you already know about my love affair with anything sweet. I LOVE to bake---that's a no-brainer. Baking relaxes me.  After all, nothing soothes the soul better than a thick slice of chocolate, peanut butter cake.
     Blogging is another hobby that relaxes me, and when I combine it with a sweet treat, that's my definition of NIRVANA. This past year I've participated in several blog hops and was fortunate enough to come across a blog that immediately caught my attention---and I've been hooked ever since my first visit.  I'm talking about Karen over at www.BakingInATornado.com. I find myself stalking her site daily because the recipes, combined with her funny & heartwarming stories, are a major draw for anyone who loves sweets with a side dish of humor.  I've made several of her recipes, and folks, let me tell you, they are ALL delicious (and addicting). Just the other day I baked her egg nog bread for the three of us....and let me just confess here and now that the loaf was NOT divided evenly into thirds.
     Karen has graciously accepted my offer to do a guest post here and I am honored to have her. Luckily for us, she has brought one of her mouth-watering recipes sure to satisfy everyone's sweet tooth----especially if you have a house full of bottomless pits, also known as teenagers!

     I was tagged in a holiday post two weeks ago by one of my favorite bloggers---Rachel @ http://taoofpoop.blogspot.com. She tagged me to list 5 Christmas wishes and to pass the "honor" down to 5 other bloggers. As usual though, I am late to the party and here it is only a few days before the BIG DAY. I'm not vengeful enough to pass this little project along to 5 other stressed out bloggers busy with the whole shopping/baking/decorating/wrapping/getting-drunk-on-spiked-egg-nog thing, so I'm going to share my 5 wishes here and leave it at that. Merry Christmas to the 5 prospective candidates I was GOING to tag (and cause the undue stress of writing a last minute blog post). BOOM! My Christmas shopping is done.

FIVE WISHES FOR SANTA

1.  I want to party like a rock star with Santa and his merry band of elves. But there are certain conditions----I am NOT cleaning up after those sloppy, drunk elves, and Santa MUST wear something other than that tiresome, red suit. How about a kilt? Or maybe some jeggings. An industrial strength girdle might be in order too, after all the milk and cookies he sucks up like a Hoover vacuum on Christmas Eve.

2.  I want to ride in a pimped out sleigh with Santa, as long as there is a bottle of cognac in the glove compartment. Rudolph won't be the only one with a red nose. Which reminds me---Santa needs to switch out that nose to an LED light to conserve energy.

3.  I'd like to have my own reindeer. He could live in my backyard, and I could charge admission ( to support my blog habit, of course) for reindeer rides to all the kiddies in the neighborhood. He could also nibble on our grass during the spring so we wouldn't have to mow the lawn as often.

4.  I want all the elves to show up the day after Christmas to dismantle my ridiculously large collection of holiday decorations and neatly pack them away in our attic. Ever notice how those lazy bastards suddenly disappear once the last gift has been unwrapped and the Christmas feast devoured? They don't even stick around long enough to help with the dishes.

5.  I want to live in a world where acorn squash is high in fats and calories, and chocolate truffles are a nutritious element in your daily, dietary needs. While you're at it, Santa, how 'bout a home liposuction kit? Cookies in, cookies out....no more gingerbread on the thighs.


     All kidding aside, what Menopausal Mama really wants for Christmas is peace. I know that sounds cliche, but at my age, I yearn for simplicity---a time when people marveled at a sunset, not the latest technological gadget. I miss respect and the kindness of strangers. Social media, as enjoyable as it may be, has also created a major disconnect in personal interaction.  A certain coldness permeates society now---we live in a world where greed is becoming the norm and compassion has waned. I want to feel safe when I walk down the streets. And I don't want to have to worry about the world my granddaughter will grow up in. I wish, as many do, an end to violence, hatred and racism.
     Despite the frightening things we have been surrounded by lately, there is still beauty to be found--in a smile, a kind word and laughter. Embrace these simple pleasures and you will discover beauty and love in the world, and in love there is hope.
     This is my wish for you, dear readers, and your families.
     And cookies...lots of cookies...

     Today I am participating in a fun little blogging project known as Secret Subject Swap, which is the brainchild of blogger Karen @ www.bakinginatornado.com. She has started something special here that motivates other bloggers to get creative by working off a prompt that has been secretly assigned to them by another blogger. Fifteen brave bloggers are participating today, simultaneously revealing their prompts and writing a blog post based on their interpretation of the topic chosen for them. Here are the links to all the sites now featuring Secret Subject
Swap:




     My prompt, "Write a list of things you are NOT going to do today and why"--- was submitted by http://stacysewsandschools.wordpress.com

WHAT I'M NOT GOING TO DO TODAY....AND WHY:

* I'm not going to shave my husband's back because if I do, I'm going to get creative and trim it into an FSU logo.

* I'm not going to eat the worm at the bottom of a tequila bottle. Last time that happened, I hallucinated I was dancing with the Care Bears.

* I'm not going to allow my husband to wear my Spanx at the next holiday party because that's just wrong on so many levels.

* I'm not going to unpack my long johns with the butt flap because nobody in Florida wears that stuff.

* I'm not going to ride the Goodyear Blimp today---I don't want a repeat of the Hindenberg incident.

* I'm not going to wear a bra today because baby those puppies were born to be free!

* I'm not going to flush down somebody else's anaconda size mess in the toilet---get a damn plunger and do it yourself.

* I'm not going to ride a donkey today. I might make an ass of myself.

* I'm not going to wear my husband's Depend Undergarments because they have a big pouch in the front.

* I'm not going to get drunk tonight because the last time I did, I ended up crawling on all fours in search of the rabbit hole from Alice In Wonderland.

* I'm not going to try on my skinny jeans today...or any other day. I ate french fries last night....

* I'm not going to strap on a mask and cook liver and onions for my husband (even though he loves it)
 because it always makes me feel like I'm on the set of Silence Of The Lambs.


What AM I going to do today after cooking/dishes/laundry/exercising/facebooking/house cleaning/ and sneaking chocolate?

* Feed a baby panda at the zoo.

* Pour myself a glass of pinot grigio.

* Cuddle my chinchillas.

* Make sure I have enough toilet paper for the week.

* Play tug-of-war with my pug.

* Kick off my high heels and dance to my own tune---the Hokey Pokey!


......and then take a long nap.....

     I'll admit it. I have an addiction. I need to attend meetings for this because I am unable to pass a Hallmark Store without stopping for a quick purchase. This addiction has taken over my closets, my attic and yes, my husband's coveted tool shed.  "You know you have a problem," he says. "You need help."
     He's right. It's time I stood up at the local Holiday Hoarders Anonymous meeting and admitted the truth to the world.  "Hello, my name is Marcia, and I'm a holiday hoarder..."
     My obsession started with my first Sesame Street ornament---Cookie Monster---a gift from my father when I was twelve. A joke at the time, but now a sentimental reminder of a great man who was so loved and now gone.
     Fast forward 30 years and 25 plastic Rubbermaid containers later.  We're talking YEARS of accumulated holiday decor, and I don't just mean Christmas. I've got lights for every occasion---from shamrocks to bunnies, turkeys and hearts; pumpkins, goblins, American flags and plastic trees for Arbor Day. The Christmas decorations are the worst because there are Just. So. Many. We need three days and a conveyor belt just to unload the attic.

FRONT YARD DECORATIONS

     This is what my husband despises most. It is the reason he becomes the Grinch and Scrooge all wrapped into one. Our power company sends us a thank you note every holiday season for the amount of lights we use in our yard. Decorations such as a lighted reindeer pulling a sleigh were carefully packed away last season---INTACT. Yet this year when we open the box, our reindeer is now a pile of antlers and hooves. I think that it, along with all the other holiday decorations, intentionally retaliates by knotting itself up during the long, summer months stored in a hot attic.
     And then there is the issue of the lights. Strands and strands of them---once packaged in a neat coil, now a tangled mess that NO ONE wants to deal with. They were working fine last year when we packed them away. They were still working fine when we took them out of the box this year....when we wrapped them around all of our trees, across the roof and around every front window of the house.  We stood back when we were finished, admired the yard, did a few "high fives" and patted each other on the back for a job well done.
     An hour later, only half of the strand of lights on the roof stayed lit. The white icicles across the porch flickered a moment, as if gasping for breath before fizzling out. Even the twinkling angel on the front lawn has a droopy wing and the lights on the other wing were completely burned out. That's what we get for buying our lights at a dollar store. We have no choice but to schlepp to the local Walmart for more lights, but by then the pickings are slim.  I don't want neon beer can lights decorating the front of my house. The alternative is to purchase those giant, inflatable lawn decorations that look like Macy's Day Parade rejects. At night they're not so bad---glowing and erect as if they've been given a high dose of Viagra, but come morning after they deflate---they look more like fiesta-colored condoms strewn across the yard.

INDOOR DECORATIONS

     This is just as bad as the outside decor. Remember the fiber optics craze? Yeah, well so do I, because  I collected every Santa, snowman, sled, elf, Christmas tree and reindeer that sparkled, dazzled, danced and sang a cheery, holiday tune. I also have an entire village of little porcelain houses that my husband would like to pillage. What drives him to drink gallons of spiked egg nog this time of year is the cartons of decorations labeled "Assembly Required." On a particularly bad day, he'll claim that these boxes are grounds for divorce.

THE TREE

     "Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas Tree, How Steadfast Are Your Branches!"  Not for my husband. He breaks out in a sweat just contemplating endless hours of affixing lights and delicate ornaments to sappy pine tree branches. So much so that he convinced us to  break tradition this year and switch to the dark side by purchasing a faux tree. Yup. I've got an artificial tree from China, not the mountains of North Carolina. The silver lining in all of this? No more pine needles to clog up the vacuum. I was still sucking up those little escape artists on the 4th of July last year.
     The worst of my hoarding habit is my ornament collection. Hundreds---no, THOUSANDS---lie nestled in layers of crumpled tissues. At this point my husband is willing to dig a large hole in our backyard and tunnel his way to China in order to avoid a day with Bing Crosby, Perry Como and me, decorating our lovely tree.  He is terrified that history will repeat itself---the day we NEVER speak of---THE DAY THE TREE FELL DOWN....when all of my expensive, sentimental ornaments were reduced to glass shards scattered across a hardwood floor. Now we tie that sucker to the ceiling with endless loops of fishing line and guard it like it was Fort Knox. If my husband had his way, all those fragile, glass ornaments would be replaced by rubber ones. Ever see an ornament double as a tennis ball? You get the idea.

THE DAY WE PACK IT ALL AWAY

     This is the hardest part. I'm torn between feeling relief at dispensing all the holiday clutter and wanting to cling to the sentimentality of the season. Fitting everything back into the boxes from whence  they came is the REAL challenge. There always seems to be more items than what we started off with. And everything has to be disassembled---you need a degree in Engineering in order to fit the decorations back into their original boxes.
     Once everything has been stored and the attic door closed, it's inevitable that we will find a few stray items that were left behind in our weary state of packing. We are forced to schlepp back to Walmart for more Rubbermaid containers. As I am contemplating the aisles of Christmas decorations marked 50% off, my husband is contemplating divorce....or maybe just converting to Judaism. After all, how much room does a menorah take?
   

       I love the winter season. It's a time for baking pumpkin bread, having a big pot of beef stew simmering on the stove, trimming the Christmas tree, sharing a glass of egg nog, and entertaining friends around our backyard fire pit. We often enjoy a mug of hot, buttered rum while we are chatting by the fire, but sometimes, after several drinks, the conversations turn...weird.