DON'T RATTLE THE RATTLER

Here's the full story about what happened with the snakes and my date with my 3-yr-old grandson, Clarkie.

In the afternoon, I took a friend to a pet store that specializes in weird amphibious type pets. I don't know what's "pet-like" about bearded lizards or ill-tempered snakes, but it has its appeal to some.

I walked past a glass enclosed "cage" with a black Alabama snake in it. This snake immediately recoiled from me, hissed, and rattled his tail. Obviously he didn't like me. He did not respond this way when my 19-yr-old friend walked past. We experimented. The 19-yr-old stood there....nothing. I stood there, the snake becomes Voldermort.

Glass enclosers create brave observers so I stood my ground with Voldy and began to sway (which is a bad habit of mine, I admit). This must have infuriated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Swayed-In-Front-Of because in the time it takes to think "Wha the", that snake attacked me. He didn't REACH me, but the force with which he hit that glass was hard, fast, and angry, and I jumped backwards and left my body for a few seconds. All I left in place was an expletive, just hanging there in a blue cloud of repentance. That snake had to hurt his nose from the fierceness with which he hit that glass. Yikes.

When I finally centered myself, and my "friend" stopped laughing (bonding episode? I don't think so), he stood in front of Mr. Warmth and what happened? Nothing. Apparently, it's true. Snakes and women have a history that goes way back. I'm assuming he was a little smoother in the Garden.

Anyway, last night I took my 3-yr-old grandson on a Moo Moo/Clarkie date. We went to get some dairy-free-fat-free-taste-free yogurt and I told him about the experience. His huge blue eyes were even more huger and bluer. He hung on every word. So it came to the following dialoge:

ME: So, Clarkie, I'll take you to that store to look at those snakes, ok?

HIM: *without missing a beat* And I won't go, cuz there's snakes, ok?

Clarkie is waaayyyyy smarter than Moo.

ONE DAY...JUST ONE DAY....

ME: Hi Mom. How's everything.

MOM: Fine! Feeling good. Been gone. Out with card club. Playing Mah Jong, having lunch, you know. I just got back and was napping a bit while watching Ellen. How's everything with you.

ME: Well, I thought I'd give you a ring between moving things between houses before it got too late. My paper is finished so I have a bit more time and then we started this moving business, so I hope I caught you at a good time.

MOM: Well...I know you're busy and all and I'm just happy when you think of me and remember me. We had a good time when you were here. I talk to your picture every morning. I know it's hard to find the time to call an elderly person who isn't right there close to you. So don't worry about me. I find things to do. I have some friends. We entertain ourselves. If something happens I can call them...

ME: I missed one day of calling, Mom.

MOM: Oh! It seemed so much longer!!!!

ME: Yea...I'll call you tomorrow, okay?

MOM: Okay sweetie. Have a good day. I'm going back to Ellen now. Love you, bye!

ME: *searching for therapist on speed dial...*

MY SHITZHU, TINK:PLAYING IS A FULL-TIME JOB

I have two dogs, both shitzhus, but both entirely different. They barely resemble each other. One is short, squat, quiet, and very very "in the moment". His name is Buddha. He stays next to me all the time. Where I am, he is there also. The other one is small boned, sprightly, light, and her name is Tink, as in "Tinkerbell". I can't believe how inspired these names were. When I took Tink to the vet for her first visit, he twisted her about, unfolded her, peered here and there, held her up to the light (seriously, like a gem stone) and said, "Well [pause for dramatic effect], you're going to be handful". Thanks Doc. Here's $1,000.

The prophetic nature of the vet notwithstanding, she has been "active", shall we say. She immediately called "dibs" on being the alpha. Buddha, as is his nature, became the curmudgeonly-but-benign Wilford Brimley of the house. Tink, on the other hand, developed wings and flies throughout the living room and bedroom. She has mastered bilocation. She insinuates herself into situations she does NOT belong.

The other night the hubs and I were lying in bed exhausted, and he asked, "Are you licking my forehead?" I replied that I was definitely NOT licking any portion of his face. Without either of us moving he said "Tink is here". Our bed is a train ride away from the floor. She had to be RRREEEEAAAALLLLYYYYY motivated to get up there.

Sometimes my 7-year-old neighbor, Saroya, who weighs approximately 8 pounds asks to "walk" Tink around the complex. "Sure" I say....and then I watch as Tink leads her at break neck speed and they fly through the air in a blur-none of their six feet touching the ground.

When we walk together, Tink will spontaneously begin walking on her hind legs. It's disturbing to say the least. Her body hair is cut short, so she has the appearance of a meerkat when she stops and looks around.

But she's all about playing. Her job is to play. PLAY! Constantly and nonstop. You can wake her up at 3 in the morning to PLAY!!!! Here's the deal with Tink. You could tear her hind leg off, beat her over the head with it, throw it over your shoulder, and Tink would play fetch with it....SHE WOULD PLAY FETCH WITH HER OWN LEG!!!!!

I need Tink's attitude.

P.S. She snores like a prison guard

EIGHT PAGES LEFT....KILL ME NOW...OR KILL ME LATER, I UNDERSTAND

I have about 8 pages left to write on this stupid paper.

8.

It's like I'm constipated in my brain.

8.

It's like I can't hold a thought or something.

8.

I've given birth quicker than I have written these last 8 pages.

8.

I've eaten cheese, cake, crackers, lasagna, Mountain Dew, apple juice, iced herb tea...I can hear myself getting fatter and my IQ points tinkling to the ground.

8.

I decided to get married quicker than it has taken to write this paper. True.

8.

We're two steps further into escrow for our little house on the hill. We'll have a mortage before I have this flippin' paper done.

8.

I've tweeted, status reported on facebook, blogged, and emailed while doing this paper...maybe that has something to do with it....

8.

oh my word, I've come up with 8 statements regarding my not finishing this paper...

8.

cartoon by Richard Krzemien (he gets me....)

Earlene's bring it

A BOOK THAT FLIES THRU THE AIR...

Dear Deborah,

Yes, it's true. You most certainly did order a book from Amazon.com. You ordered it and expected it to arrive on your new e-reader, the Kindle. I know you were excited. You felt very much apart of a special family of "new techies" that now read occasionally from hand-held devices. You waited several days for your new "book" to arrive when in reality, it should have arrived at virtually the speed of light, right?

The trick, you see, if that you have to turn your Kindle "on" and by "on" we mean to the "wireless" setting, so that the "air" can magically make your "book" appear inside your new little reader.

Okay? So happy that you figured it out. So....snuggle up next to your little reader and fall asleep in bed. I know, it takes getting used to. Your favorite books would fall softly and painlessly upon your chest or tummy when you could no longer keep your eyes open. They were kind of nice, eh? The Kindle and other e-readers fall forward and clip you on the nose don't they?...in a rather cold and pokey manner. But hey! You can carry a virtual library in your purse and read while standing in line or waiting for prescriptions or any number of circumstances.

Just remember to turn it on next time you purchase a "book". Now...about how to actually "turn the page"....

xoxo, Your Kindle

ROSES ARE RED/VIOLETS ARE BLUE/I'M A SCHIZOPHRENIC/AND SO AM I

Well...today was interesting....

I had a standard doctor's appointment. I was just going to run down to the desert, drop into my neurologist's office for a quick visit, and then run back to my house. The trip down to the desert takes about an hour and a half over the mountain and is quite scenic. I enjoy the trip immensely. Once I get to the desert, it's always very warm and I forget (even after living there for several years) that it's consistently the same temperature for most of the year and it's difficult to remember the seasons.

Okay, back to the doctor's appointment. As I was going back to the exam room, I asked the secretary, "How's your summer going?" It's February. Middle of winter. Even here. She replied, "I don't remember. Summer was quite a while ago." Dutifully shamed, I hung my head and walked to the room.

She must have said something to the doctor....heck, now maybe I did, I can't remember...but he started asking me weird questions. He pointed to the "thing" on his wrist and asked what it was. I said, "Your watch?". He said, "Good". (Seriously?) He then said, "I noticed that you were reading when I came in. That's very good." He didn't say the book was good (it was an e-reader, so he couldn't see the book)....he just said that the ACT of reading was good.... (okkkaaayyyyyy)

He then said, "I'm going out of the room for a moment, when I come back please be sitting in that chair over there". I failed that one because we've never done that so I thought perhaps I misheard him. He walked in with a folder and some papers in it and looked at me strangely. He repeated it and I jumped to the other chair. Now I'm thinking I failed a little test. Then he pulled up a chair and sat across from me. He said, "I'm going to name three things and I want you to remember them because I"m...." OKAY! ... I said, "I know what's going on here. I know what this is. This is a remembery thingy". No...I didn't say that. But we discussed the test and we realized that my memory, though spotty, is fine. He said that as my stress level lessens, my memory should improve. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH....good one. But he did give me the rest of the "memory" test *cough* and will track it.

Here's the deal. At this point in time, I'm "the absent-minded professor" type of person. That pretty much sums it up. If I remember something, it pushes something else out. It could be the lunch date I made with some one or a grandchild's name. I have two grandsons that begin their names with the letter "C". One is Charlie and one is Clarkie. When my time with them kinda sorta overlaps, they both become Charkie. I'm economical like that. Occasionally, my husband and I will still refer to one of the dogs by our son's name. I'm not taking the fall for that.

I told my 91-year-old mother about what happened today at the doctor's office. She laughed so hard she almost peed herself. After we discussed it, I told her I'd call her again tomorrow. Her parting words, "Sure....if you can remember who I am."

Nice...