Saturday, July 31, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
I'm not big on housecoats, especially this time of year when it is so hot. I don't have central air, I have three window units but only two can be turned on at a time.
You can't have the microwave, hair dryer or coffee pot on while more than one unit is running either because that will result in flipping the breaker, which is a bad thing.
The breaker box is in the basement which wouldn't be a bad thing if you didn't have to go outside, down the steps, move the pole that holds the two basement doors closed, grope your way through numerous cobwebs, try not to step on the big toad that lives there, work your way past the riding mower that won't budge and hold your breath because of the worm farm that Janie Bell kept down there back in the 50s.
(It's a really old house and Janie Bell was one of the characters that used to live here over 50 years ago.)
All of this results in taking certain liberties within my own home. Namely, I like to air dry myself when I get out of the shower. Since there is no air conditioning in the bathroom I usually go into the kitchen and stand in front of that unit--which is right beside the door--and which also has another window with a curtain but no shade.
The shade on the door is usually open; I like to look outside and watch the seens. Recently, I had an unexpected visitor, the UPS man. He and I have become friendly this past year. He had been admiring my mini greenhouses that I raised over a 100 tomato plants from seed in since March of this year that I took and sold at the flea market.
He usually backs the truck down the driveway because there isn't anywhere to turn around out back. I usually hear the truck because they are pretty loud. I don't know if it was the radio blasting, or the window unit roaring, or I just had my head up my ass because I heard a knock at the door and then everything seemed to go in slow motion.
I jumped, looked through the shade on the door, saw him, screamed and crossed my arms across my chest.
Brown's eyes shot straight up, he stumbled backward and nearly lost his balance and dumped my packages on the chair outside. "Nothing to sign," he said. "Have a nice day."
I didn't move, I was too mortified to budge. I had just flashed the UPS guy. Goodness, with my luck, the Jehovah Witnesses will be pulling in next. After the shock wore off, the worry set in: What was his reaction? Will it make things weird between us? Maybe, I do need to wear a housecoat?
Later in the evening I was sitting out on the porch when I was surprised to see another UPS truck pull into the driveway. Yep, it was him and he had a package in his hand. Oh crap, what am I going to say to this guy? Before I could say anything this is what he said: "In all of the excitement this morning, I forgot this one, and by the way, nice package."
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Monday, July 19, 2010
Friday, July 16, 2010
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Friday, July 9, 2010
|I guess I was more successful than I thought I was in regards to talking to LeBron James. Not only did I convince him to move south--he moved really south, all the way to South Beach.
Maybe it will make the NBA a little more interesting? It's been really boring since Michael, Scottie and Dennis retired. I like the Lakers but they really don't have any personality--Showtime, it ain't!
I used to love the Celtics when Larry played. Today, they make me want to throw up because they act like a bunch of babies. Shoot, they even got a so called baby that plays for them (Glen Big Baby Davis).
I was very surprised too. It was kind of refreshing to see a professional athlete take "less" money to play with his buddies. What's another 30 million bucks when you already have 300 million or more?
Posted by Gianetta at 2:10 PM
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
|Have you missed me?
I know I've missed you. I hate to be one of those people--ya know, the one that says I've been really busy. Well, I have been and the blog has suffered. I've managed to get out a few original posts lately but I've relied on some of my past material. Is that a bad thing? I don't think so because I hate to be one of those people that says they are burnt out and can't think of anything to write. Good heavens! I wish I had that problem. I've got so many seens, stories, happenings, and opinions floating around up there that they almost got lost.
Some of the happenings that have kept me occupied for the past few months include trying and failing to buy a new house, my birthday, way too many undercover assignments, a two month stint with the Census Bureau, a week of jury duty, fighting with the riding mower, a 25 yr high school reunion, looking for a lost relative, taking square dancing lessons with mom, a tooth ache and a week at the beach.
That's it! I think things might have calmed down for awhile. I can now get back to being the MA Fat Woman; although I think I should be known as the MA not so Fat Woman. Did I mention that I've lost some weight!!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
|Orignally published July '08
The scene--Any small town in a state that doesn't allow fireworks, namely Georgia.
A guy walks into his local courthouse and asks where he can get a permit. The guard sends him down to the permit office. There is a really long line and only one window open. He admits to himself that this permit thing must be a pretty good idea, 'cause everyone here seems to be getting one. After all, on July 4th, he always hears fireworks going off all over town, so, they must have a permit, right?
The man finally reaches the counter after one lunch break, and two smoke breaks and asks the lady about applying for a permit. She pulls out the forms and said that the fee was going to be $500.00. He scratches his head and thought that that sounded like a lot of money. "Ma'am, why does it cost so much to get a permit to let off fireworks," he asked?
"Let off fireworks," she said. "Don't you know that is illegal in this state?"
The man scratched his head once again and then asked, "What are all of these people here for?"
"Sir, this is the tag office," she said.
The man, quite confused by this time, looks up and asks, "Where does the city get its permit to let off fireworks for the community each year?"
The lady, quite at a loss for words looks up and says, "Wait right here, I'm gonna go get my supervisor."
Enjoy your 4th of July wherever you are and remember this: Let the professionals shoot off the fireworks, because they have a permit. Just don't ask to see it.
Posted by Gianetta at 12:01 AM
Thursday, July 1, 2010
|What is red, burnt, and has spots all over?
I've got a red nose, a sun burned back and more freckles than I can count.
I'm still on vacation having a great time!
Wish you were here...not really, well, maybe?
Let me think on it and I'll get back to you...next week some time!
MA Fat Woman