Or, for your added convenience, there is Nit Picky or Lice Beaters, companies who will delouse you or your child in the privacy of your own home!

Where the hell were these companies when my kids were growing up? Pre-Effexor, one of my OCD challenges was head lice. Every god damn spring, as soon as that letter came home from school with the words “possible head lice infestation”, I would start picking through their hair like a long-tail macaque sitting in a hot spring.

Get over here, kid!

Fortunately, I never found anything! God knows what I would have done if I had discovered one of those louses or nits setting up camp in their heads. I would have treated those kids until their hair follicles fell out!

I have this damn, violent, bronchial cough and every time I cough I think I’m peeing myself. What the hell is that??????I mean really, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT???

Isn’t that something really, really, really, really old women do?? Didn’t Betty White or Florence Henderson or Bea Arthur or Marlo Thomas or someone old and decrepit like that do a commercial for this?? Am I going to start having diapers delivered to my house in brown packaging????

I mean really, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT???

I googled those flabby vagina exercises that women are supposed to do to tighten up but I just keep coming up with pictures of Jewish pastries.

How the hell is a pastry supposed to help my flabby vagina?

And then someone told me I might start experiencing vagina farts – a sound or feeling of air being expelled from your vagina. It’s called a Fwaaaaaa. I’m not kidding about this ladies – there’s a NAME for this.

I mean really, WHAT THE HELL IS THAT???

It’s bad enough that when Hub and I have sex, I’m so dry, it sounds like I’m sanding my high school’s gymnasium floor with a nail file, now I have to deal with Fwaaaaaaaaa?????

Poolie is also nudging – alright pushing – us to get back to blogging – to stop using Facebook as our only way to make people think or laugh or get pissed off.  She’s right, you know, because where do those posts go when you get tired of scrolling on your I phone?  I’m going to start printing out my blog posts and compiling that big mess of thoughts and words and tears and laughs and snarky comments into something that my kids and grandkids can hold and read when I’ve crossed over to the great beyond.  I can just hear those sweet little great grand children saying to their parents, “Mommy, why did Nana complain so much?”.  Hahahaha!

My Facebook posts? Meh, not worth saving.

So here’s a little idea of what’s been going on at the Johnson ranch. Can you tell I’ve started reading  The Pioneer Woman’s blog and watching her show?   I know I read some blogs a while back whose writers were mad because they felt PW  had sold out to big business or something, but I say, “Hey, if you can make money writing, then YEEHAW  girl, you go right ahead and do it!!  And now she has a cooking show with easy recipes on Saturday mornings – all from one little ol’ blog!!!  I just might bust my britches!

The addition is not finished yet.  We had to sic the architect on our contractor.  The architect found flagrant cost cutting errors in the framing and foundation.  Hub texted and called and emailed the contractor.  I then  pulled in the Mom card and called the contractor and left him a message that if he didn’t get this fixed right away I was going to tell his mother that he is a thief.  Yeah, that didn’t work either!

So, here’s what my deck used to look like.

A Cool Summer Evening

…and here’s a little picture of the area under the deck before the blue blob arrived. (That’s my brother-in-law and nephew enjoying the green, not knowing the horror that would soon descend upon the neighborhood)

Lovely Green Grass

This is what my deck looks like now as we struggle to turn this into a four season room.

Lots of Windows and Windex!

Brick Wall Remains

New Entrance to the House

The washer and dryer will be in that opening on the right!   No more lugging laundry baskets down two flights of stairs into the basement! My knees will get some relief!

The Blue Blob

I’ve been looking at that same blue tarp and mud since August.  Uggghhh.

So, basically they cut the legs off of my deck in May of 2011 and it is February of 2012 and I still have nowhere to hide when the family is annoying me or display my once beautiful African violets“““““““““““`.  Sorry, Lola just typed that with her paw!  She is as upset as I am.

Alright, enough complaining for today.  I’m aheading to the kitchen to rustle me up some pork and beans or Afrin and Advil – whichever is easiest.

1. You had to hang the ”’socks”’ by the toes…not the top.

2. You hung pants by the bottom/cuffs…not the waistbands.

3. You had to ”’wash”’ the clothesline(s) before hanging any clothes – walk the entire length of each line with a damp cloth around the lines.

4. You had to hang the clothes in a certain order, and always hang “whites” with “whites,” and hang them first.

5. You NEVER hung a shirt by the shoulders – always by the tail! What would the neighbors think?

6. Wash day on a Monday! ”’Never hang clothes on the weekend, or on Sunday!

7. Hang the sheets and towels on the ”’outside lines so you could hide your ‘”unmentionables’” in the middle (perverts & busybodies, y’know!)

8. It didn’t matter if it was sub-zero weather… clothes would ‘”freeze-dry.”‘

9. ALWAYS gather the clothes pins when taking down dry clothes! Pins left on the lines were “tacky”! Clothespin bags were made and used – hanging on the line – to be taken in with the laundry.

10. If you were efficient, you would line the clothes up so that each item did not need two clothes pins, but shared one of the clothespins with the next washed item.

11. Clothes off of the line before dinner time, neatly folded in the clothes basket, and ready to be ironed.

12. IRONED???!! Well, that’s a whole OTHER subject!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
POEM …

A clothesline was a news forecast, To neighbors passing by,

There were no secrets you could keep, When clothes were hung to dry.

It also was a friendly link, For neighbors always knew

If company had stopped on by, To spend a night or two.

For then you’d see the “fancy sheets”, And towels upon the line;

You’d see the “company table cloths”, With intricate designs.

The line announced a baby’s birth, From folks who lived inside,

As brand new infant clothes were hung, So carefully with pride!

The ages of the children could, So readily be known

By watching how the sizes changed, You’d know how much they’d grown!

It also told when illness struck, As extra sheets were hung;

Then nightclothes, and a bathrobe too, Haphazardly were strung.

It also said, “On vacation now”, When lines hung limp and bare.

It told, “We’re back!” when full lines sagged, With not an inch to spare!

New folks in town were scorned upon, If wash was dingy and gray,

As neighbors carefully raised their brows, And looked the other way.

But clotheslines now are of the past, For dryers make work much less.

Now what goes on inside a home, Is anybody’s guess!

I really miss that way of life, It was a friendly sign

When neighbors knew each other best… By what hung out on that line
~~~~~~~~~~

She sent me for an x-ray of my abdomen and I have to call her tomorrow for the results.  She actually called my house today at 5:30, but I was at work and Hub was outside smoking instead of standing next to the phone as I would have been.  They didn’t leave a message so I’ll call early tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, I have to increase my consumption of water and I must use miralax twice a day until “something” happens.  I just hope “something” happens in the privacy of my home and not at work when I’m in the middle of doing a 10 minute dental quote.

Which leads to the question, do your 3D friends know about and read your blog?  Which leads to part of the reason my feelings are hurt.

I have been friends with MaLo for over 20 years.  She has never read my blog.  Never!!!  I have talked about it to her and mentioned the friends I’ve made through the years.  I’ve talked about Poolie’s geocache and Peggy’s horses and LA’s hair and Naomi’s photos and Robyn’s cats…..well, you get the picture.  She knows all of you in a vague sort of way.  She knows that blogging has been a part of my life for years and yet SHE HAS NEVER READ MY BLOG!!!!!

Occasionally when I am talking about blogging and that perhaps she should write one, she’ll say, “Oh that’s right, you blog – you’ll have to give me your address”, which I do and she promptly loses in that trash can she calls a purse.

MaLo was once married to a very successful printer and had two homes.  She didn’t have to work to support herself so for “fun” she worked in a very expensive sweater store and a very hip and funky gift shop that sold art work by Philadelphia artists.  She had very wealthy clients and friends.

In the 80′s, the printing business bombed when everyone purchased a home computer.  Her husband lost his business and his mojo and left her.  At this time she was working at the gift shop and the extremely wealthy friend/boss developed lung cancer and died.

MaLo was left with nothing but a basement full of wooden angels and an empty house and bank account. She now works  at the local college teaching ESL and houses four Asian students who each pay her $600.00 monthly for room and board.

She still continues to spend money like she did when she had money and still spends time with many of her wealthy friends.  For example, they meet for a book club every month. As I am a big reader, I have asked to join this club once or twice and she told me I “wouldn’t fit in”.  The women go to theatre and art shows and spend weekends down the shore.  MaLo will start to tell me about these wonderful times and when I say, “Oh that sounds like fun, I’d love to go the next time you go!” she always says, “Oh Joanie, you just wouldn’t fit in”. 

Is this because I work in customer service for an insurance company and my husband is an automobile mechanic?  Is it because my daughter went to a state college?  Is it because I reside in a zip code that is not considered as wealthy as her zip code?

So here’s where the crying comes in.  Yesterday we met for lunch at a local restaurant to exchange Christmas gifts and welcome in the new year.  MaLo buys herself whatever she wants and she loves gift cards, so I gave her a $50.00 Visa gift card and a tin of her favorite cookies.  As soon as she opened my gift, she put the card on the table with a panicked look in her eye and said, “Oh Joanie, this is way too much, I couldn’t possibly accept it”.

I waved off her objections and started to open my gift.  She started blabbering about the fact that she has purchased so much beautiful hand-made jewelry and that she has decided to start giving it to her loved ones instead of leaving it sit in her jewelry box.  I’ve seen these “pieces” – MaLo always refers to these as pieces – and they are stunning.

I opened the box with trembling fingers to see what beautiful work of art would be adorning my ears or neck or wrist.  Peeling back the glittery tissue paper, I first saw a beautiful amber stone with something fluffy on it.  On further inspection, I realized the “stone” was plastic and the fluffy thing was  fur left over from her dog that had died three years ago!!!!!  She had given me a pair of Kohl’s “1928 design” earrings that at some point she had obviously spilled something on and then her dog’s fur had become attached to it!!!!!!

Seriously?????  What the hell?????  I was fuckin’ pissed and hurt and disgusted.

Now don’t get me wrong.  I would have been thrilled to open up a pair of clean “1928 ” earrings and I would have loved them.  But don’t blow smoke up my ass and tell me you’re giving me some priceless heirloom and then hand me some piece of filth that has been sitting in the bottom of your jewely box collecting dog fur and spilled coffee!!!!!

Later I told my husband that I truly do agree with the saying, “It’s not the gift, it’s the thought that counts”.

She obviously does not think much of me.

I can’t show you a picture because I threw them out.

Oh by the way, to add insult to injury, the earrings were missing the backs…..

Right now, I’m sitting next to my Christmas tree, sipping my tea, reading your blogs, and listening to the dry wall guys in my great room talking about what their grandmoms got them for Christmas.  Hahaha, I guess it doesn’t matter how old you are, you’ll always love your grandmom.

We had a lovely day yesterday.  I took my Mom  to the hospital to visit my Dad who was admitted on 12/23.  He had a UTI which was causing severe dementia.  (He’s much better now).  I visited Dad for about an hour and then left to come home and prepare for the festivities!  Around 4:00, my sister picked up Mom from the hospital and brought her back here.  We had a wonderful day filled with food, family and laughter.  We had a “cut-throat” Pollyanna and I won a $25.oo Visa gift card.

I know I talk about the therapy and Effexor a lot on here, but I have to tell you, once again, how much it has changed my life.  Prior to starting on Effexor, I would have had a complete panic attack having my Mom sleep over on Christmas Eve and then having to get up and take her to the hospital and scrubbing and vacuuming and dusting and cooking and doing all the things that go along with hosting a Christmas party.  The meds allow me to take everything in stride  and for that I will always be grateful to the inventor of Effexor 

We had an ugly Christmas sweater contest and my daughter and her fiance won with their twin creations!

Laura and Patrick

 

The girl sitting next to me has some kind of contraption attached to the back of her nook that holds it at the correct angle for reading; however, she just can’t seem to get it right. First it’s up, then it’s down. She has moved her chair a couple of times to see if that would help, but I don’t think it has!

Christmas shopping is done. I bought a bunch of gift cards for friends and family. I think I have come to a point in my life when Christmas has become just another day to me. For years, before I was medicated, Christmas was just horrible for me – the anxiety of the shopping and wrapping and cooking and decorating turned me into a real bitch by Christmas day. My kids dreaded it and me. Once again, thanks to Effexor, I can make it through December without collapsing into a sobbing heap covered in tinsel and fruit cake.

Mom and Dad who are both in their 80′s struggled to put up their tree last week and quickly realized they couldn’t do it. Mom said Dad was so upset because his hands were shaking so badly. Instead of asking for help from us, they took the parts down that they had assembled and packed it all back into the tattered, cardboard box.

My mom told me this right before we left for VA and I remembered it as soon as we got back to PA. She said they were just going to go without a tree this year.
I don’t think so! My mother is the Christmas queen! Having grown up in an orphanage, the Christmas tree has always been a symbol of family to her. She reminisces about walking down the street when she was in high school and still living at the orphanage and glancing into the windows of the huge mansions along the way. She would gaze at the beautiful trees and decorations and hope that one day she could have the same thing.

So you know there was no way in hell I was going to let her go without a tree!

Several years ago, I bought a beautiful, completely decorated 3 foot tree with lights and garland at the local craft fair. With all the construction going on, I planned to use that this year, but instead I brought it up to Mom and Dad yesterday for their place. They were thrilled. Mom has called me three times to tell me how much she loves it and that it brightens up their apartment.

I didn’t realize it when I was schlepping it up to their little apartment, but that, my friends, is the spirit of Christmas. I brought some happiness to my mom who was feeling very old and maybe a little scared.

And that is my Christmas gift to myself.