Happy Halloween

BOO!

The Scare Mare...Revisited

I always enjoyed going to haunted houses and Halloween carnivals. Shoot, I wouldn't mind going trick-or-treating if they wouldn't think I needed to be committed or something. This time of year brings back an especially fond memory of visiting my first haunted house when I was in about the seventh grade. Of course, back in the day, the only way we were allowed to go anywhere like that was with the church youth group. I had just become old enough to go with my brother and sister to all of the fun activities and this visit to the Scare Mare in southern Ohio was my first chance to prove that I was all grown up. Church was all about getting everyone involved, so, I invited all of my neighbors to go along. There were several kids that were my age and we were having a really good time. We were standing in line behind my sister and her friends, and, I'm sure she would say that we were pestering her to death. I remember it being very cold and waiting for what seemed like hours before we were close to the door. Somehow, my sister got separated from her group and was forced into going in her kid sister's group. And we were glad she did. What sticks out more in my mind than anything was The Zebra Room. It was painted in black and white stripes and had a pulsating strobe light that made it nearly impossible to see. Nothing happened until this Merlin-looking character suddenly appeared from the wall and had blood drooling down the side of his face. He was headed straight for me; I screamed and jumped on my sister's back. Unfortunately, so did everyone else and my sister now had three or four screaming and crying adolescents on her back. Thankfully, we moved onto the next areas and had people jumping out at us and folks pretending to chop up body parts. It was a little gory and gross. Our dispositions were improving some until it came to the slide. You couldn't go back and there wasn't any stairs; you had to slide down about thirty feet into total darkness. Every one of us balked at going down that slide. My sister was tired of waiting and down she went into the blackness. I heard a muffled scream and a thump and that was it. People behind us were beginning to bunch up and we were getting a little upset. I went down the slide and was met with strong hands helping me up. Nobody was tying to scare you at that point; but, my friends didn't know that. All of them eventually slid down the slide and all behaved except the very last one. My young friend came down that slide kicking, screaming and slugging at anything he could reach. He landed a punch on the guy that was helping him up and ran straight to my sister and hid under her coat. He was scared to death and was crying like a new born baby. Thankfully, the slide was at the end of the haunted tour and we were back outside in just a few moments. My friend finally recovered enough to peek out from under my sister's coat and looked around at all of us somewhat embarrassed. Nobody said anything because we had all been scared at one point or another. My sister got caught up with her friends who remarked about her going through The Scare Mare with a bunch of kids. They were all in the tenth grade and hadn't been scared at all. My sister looked over at her friends and said this: I was surprised, my sister and her friends weren't scared at all. We had a really good time. Isn't that the truth? After all, that's what sisters do!

Whistling Chinese While Boxing The Cat

Any idea what that means? I had one of those fanciful, rip-roaring dreams the other night where there was so much activity that I woke up just plain tired. I was a ballerina in the Russian version of the Nutcracker that was making her debut at the National Opera House in Sydney, Australia in 1846. I was of Asian descent and was supposed to be of small stature but it seems I was a bit too, too much to fit into my tutu. I'm not sure if I had too many shrimp on the barbie or not but I kept walking around my dressing room with a Siamese cat following me and nagging that I needed to get into shape or I would be the laughing stock of the Seaman Fall Festival. (Seaman is the town where my high school is located.) Not sure how or why I was having cross-Atlantic and cross-Centuries dreams but I can assure you that the fall festival and the opera house are about as far apart as two worlds could possibly be. Or, so I thought! The last thing I remembered before I woke up was that I was a contestant in the amateur talent shows at both the fall festival and at the opera house. What was my talent? Whistling Chinese while boxing the cat...all in full tutu, of course!

Sayings For The First Cold Snap Of The Season

In honor of the first major cold snap to hit my neck of the woods this year, here are a few of my favorite sayings. Feel free to leave your own cold/colder comments in the comments section. It's so cold that my Jack O'Lantern almost froze to death. It's so cold that my runny nose is now a small icicle. It's so cold that even Mother Nature has been asking for another blanket. I wonder if I got any gas left in the tank from last year? I don't. Can I borrow $500? And my personal favorite, although I don't know why...It's colder than a witch's titty

Wordless Wednesday...Everyone Wants To Be A Clown

Flower the bear having fun at Grandfather Mountain!

No Female Holidays

Have you ever wondered why we have no National Holidays in honor or memory of a famous woman? Me too...

Losing My Estrogen

Please sing along if you remember the words to REM's Losing my Religion now affectionately known as Losing my Estrogen. There are many benefits of being a middle-aged fat woman, or so I'm told; personally, I've yet to discover any. There are so many changes going on with my body right now that I swear if I wasn't somewhat educated I would think that I wasn't a human being at all. Everything seems to be happening in reverse; Benjamin Button ain't got nothing on me. Let me provide you with a few examples: Why is it that every hair on my body is turning a darker shade of gray with each passing year except...wait for it...the hair on my upper lip. Have I mentioned the forgetfulness? I am now an official member of the older society of women in my family. What is so special about this extraordinary group of women: You are now allowed to carry around your own personal Lady Bic Shaver for the purpose of extinguishing those pesky dark hairs without fear of being made fun of or laughed at. We've all tried the tweezers, but that's too painful. Some of us might have tried the waxing technique but ever since that scene in the movie Basic Instinct with Sharon Stone...hot wax and I haven't quite been on speaking terms. Have I mentioned the forgetfulness? Another thing that I can't seem to control these days are my emotions. I'll be crying tears of joy one second and the next I go almost completely bats*it crazy with rage. Thank goodness for Midol and Pamprin; they've become my best friends. And don't even get me started on the acne problems. When I was a teenager I expected to have a pimple here and there. You woke up in the morning, stared at the small white bump, popped it and moved on; it healed within three days. My menopausal acne doesn't behave this way. When I get one of those whoppers they stay around for three weeks or longer and bug the crap out of me because they're never in a convenient place..i.e..like my forehead or the tip of my nose. One little kid pointed at me one day and asked her mommy if that lady had diseases on her face. (No, honey, just monster pimples.) Nice. Have I mentioned the forgetfulness? I've mentioned to mom the changes that I've been going through and she just laughed, "Get you some hormones and give it about ten years. You'll be just fine. I made it through okay, didn't I?" That quote took me down memory lane about twenty years ago, back to a time when mom was losing her estrogen too. You would have thought she was losing her mind; crying all the time, ornery as hell and it took 15 minutes for her to figure out which child you were. "I guess you did. You were a bit gruff sometimes, though, I think." "Gruff? I wouldn't talk if I was you, you've just been plain grouchy. Go get some of them pep pills. I gotta go, my favorite song just came on the radio." In the background, I wasn't too surprised to hear the opening chorus of my new favorite song...so I chimed right in...Losing my Estrogen.

Seens From Mount Mitchell

Here are a few photos from Mount Mitchell, the highest point east of the Mississippi River, (elevation 6871 feet) that Mom and I visited over the last week. Mom on a bench Mom looking out over the valley Mom at the lookout I love this picture of mom with the old man statue. Doesn't it just scream, "Howdy, partner?"

Looking For Leaves

Mom and I are off on an adventure for the next few days. We decided to head up in to the mountains of Western North Carolina to look at the leaves in their full autumnal splendor. It snowed there this past weekend. One place we are going is Grandfather Mountain where they have a mile high swinging bridge. Of course, you know there is always a catch with us and this time is no exception. Mom is scared of heights and I get altitude sickness. I'll let you know how it goes...

I'm Real Egg-cited About This

I like to watch infomercials. I've never bought anything but I like to see the new things that people have invented. I really like the kitchen gadgets. I have always wanted to try something cooked in a NuWave oven. As much as those gadgets cost, I'd really like to try it before I buy it. Anyhow, I was flipping channels the other night and chanced upon a new gadget that got me really excited. I love deviled eggs but I hate to peel them. I wanted this gadget! After a few days of being bombarded with this commercial, I decided I would bite the bullet and make the purchase. Of course, I couldn't remember the name of the product, so I had to Google it. Up jumped the website about Eggies, but before I clicked through to it, I saw another link to a "Try it, before you buy it" site sponsored by a television station in Maryland. Well, I thought to myself, How smart is that? I visited that station's site and watched as they demonstrated the product. And I'm glad I did, too, because the results were less than egg-citing. I'm a little disappointed, but that's okay, at least I won't be suffering any eggspensive charges on my next credit card statement.