You and Me

For my friend Pamela because you encourage me to get out of my own head.
Happy 1 month anniversary B! 
  

I’m starting to remember that day more clearly. I remember how intently you were staring at me as I turned the corner and you misjudged the table and dropped that glass. I didn’t want you to pick it up. I had joked about me becoming your mother and called you Bernard and told you to have a seat. I remember you made me a drink too. I remember wondering why we were drinking so early in the day. Crown Royal your favorite. I’m so glad I just drank it. I didn’t say I didn’t want it or even that it was too early in the day. I just drank it. I didn’t know we were celebrating your surrendering. That look of longing, that look of intense love. That look like the day we first met gave you courage to surrender it all for my sake. I’m glad I was happy at that moment making snacks for your game. You telling me my guacamole was restaurant quality made me smile. I’m glad you were happy that day. It was a happy day. You were running with the underdogs, the Falcons. What a good game. I watched you cheering them on while you were slowly accepting your departure. You waited for everyone to leave. Going to their homes, going to bed. Then you came to me not quite ready to go but not wanting to be alone. Thank you for choosing me that day in the beginning and again that day in the end.

For all the times I had to share you it always came down to you and me.

It’s So Complicated – Mundy Madness

Hello Wonderer.

Do you ever wonder why things have to be so difficult?  What can possibly be hard about purchasing a trash can and then use it correctly?  Probably nothing in your household but in mines – madness!

I don’t know why in this day and time you have to touch the top of the trash can.  In my day we had to take trash outside and pick up the lid and place it back down, make sure it was on tight before we came in the house.  My jokers have it so easy if they could just figure it out, they should never have to touch the lid.  I have purchased several brands of trash cans over the years.  Ones that flips up.  They don’t work because somebody never sees the can is full and leaves it open smelling the house up with garbage.  Swings open.  No because everyone had to touch the lid leaving some residue that just makes the can look nasty.  I had pedestal to open the tops.  But someone used their super human strength and breaks off the pedestal and so on and so on and so on,  None of these have worked.  Thirty three years of searching for the perfect can.  I just gave up.

Well I thought I found it.  My friend has an automatic trash can.  I was at her house having a coffee break when her grandson walked up to the can and wait for it….it opened and he put his thrash in it and then it closed.  WOW!  He didn’t touch it any where.  It just opened as if he mentally suggested – open sesame!  For two hours I watch her family navigate around the can tossing, scraping, even spit trash into the can.  I was impressed.  I had to have that trash can.  I was too ashamed to ask her where it came from but I knew Goggle would know.  He sent me to Amazon and I purchased a NineStars Electronic Stainless Steele can that came with a bonus can.  Two for the price of one.  Impressive, I know right!  I even additionally purchased the adaptor because I’ve seen this baby in action and I knew it was a keeper.  Shouldn’t have to waste batteries on this life changer.  I had to wait a couple of days for it but I was so excited i went to the store and purchased a rug to go under it.

  
When it came I set it up immediately, prancing around the house like it was Christmas. Days went by and my hopes were slowing dashing. Somebody can’t get it to open.  They stand in front of it waving their hands over it, gives up and pushes the backup button because they couldn’t wait a second.  Everyone can’t change the bag properly.  There happens to be a ring inside the can that you wrap the bag around so it doesn’t show on the outside.  Someone occasionally opens it with their hands and leaves it open all night.  I’ve even witnessed the can opening and close before the person let go of the trash and it hit the lid as if the person was stammering o op open pen ses sa meeee!  Damn, what’s a girl to do?

Titus, My only smart guy can open the can with no problems.  He stands in front of it, waits, and when it opens gets his paper towels and let’s it close.  At night he throws them around and leaves the mess all over the floor.

That’s right Wonderers, only the dog can do it!

The search is back on!  I guess my mom was right, the trash can must go outside for sanity to remain inside.

Thanks for perusing and good night.

Mundy Madness – Flip and Fold

Hey Wonderers:

Ever get something that you never knew you wanted or even better ~ needed?

Well here it is!  A Flip and Fold.

First, I have to admit I am kinda anal about laundry and it makes getting it done correctly (as in my way of doing it) difficult for everyone else so I do all the laundry for a family of six.  But now thanks to the gag gift I received over the Christmas holiday.  A laundry miracle has happened to my household.  I literally just heard an heavenly, “Ahhhh!”

  Who would have knew!  Something for me turned out to be a gift for every one of them.  Now everybody up in here can fold laundry.  And guess what?  I already ordered another one.  This is something I know they are going to try and break.  But I’m in it to win it, but I still won’t let them run the washing machine!

I wonder what else is out there I didn’t know I wanted?

Until next time, thanks for perusing.

Mundy Madness

Good Morning to You Wonderers:

Today didn’t start off to well for Alex.  My grandson said to me, “Hey Mom Mom wake up!  I don’t like paper on my cheese toast.”

  I replied, “I’ve eaten plenty of paste sandwiches in my day and I’m still here.  You’ll be fine.”
Hope you have a better morning Wonderers.  I’m going back to bed and will try again later.

Day 7 of 25 Days of Christmas Crafts

Good evening Wonderers:

I wasn’t sure if I was going to get to post today’s craft because it literally took me a whole day to put it together.  This one might be considered another “c” word beside craft.  A word like challenge or maybe even chore but for me I like to word chaos.

I over heard a neighbor talking about the neighborhood is “playing keeping up with the Jones’s”.  I Had to think about that one for a minute and I decided to tell you about why I hang lights up for Christmas.  I know I’ve told you guys about some of my Christmas memories before and here’s another one.

I came up in the 60’s and 70’s when a string of lights went on individual bulbs.  I recently saw replacement bulbs in the store and wondered who still uses them?  Well I wished I had kept up with the old lights my grandfather used to hang.  Every year my Pop-Pop would sit out on the front porch and wash, test, and  replace each of the bulbs on those old lights while smoking Lucky Strike cigarettes.  He’d be making up stories about us riding in wagons visiting family  and how Santa was coming to town and would use those lights to find the house because he didn’t have a fireplace or chimney.  My Pop would spins yarns for hours keeping us outside in the Philadelphia coldness of winter while my grandmother made Thanksgiving dinner.  Those lights would be up from Thanksgiving until New Years and they were never turned off, or went out or burnt out.  He had so much pride in displaying those big bright lights even when everyone else went to the new fangled version.  He held fast to the tried and true version until his passing.  But I can still see him and those lights.

At our house my Dad would unravel lights and lay them across the living room floor and no matter what he said, somebody would walk by and step on them and break a bulb.  In those days if you broke one, the whole string would go out.  But my dad had the patience of a saint.  He would just laugh and run through those lights until he got them working again and again and again every year.  We lived in the first house on the block and he set the tone of the season and he was known as the “light fixer” and would help anyone light up their house.  His lights woud be up from Thanksiving until New Years and never burnt out or fell down.  He would pack blankets, hot chocolate and Christmas cookies into the station wagon and ride us around West Philadelphia to see the lights.  He had so much joy into putting those lights up for us and still lights up his house every year.

Now here I am outside in 60 degree weather putting up lights.  Last week I was so excited that I called my dad after going through the lights on my pre-lit Christmas tree.  The middle of the tree had burnt out.  It took me four hours to find the three bulbs that burnt out but I got them and my tree is fully lit again.  I said, “Hey Dad.  I feel like I just graduated from the George Stevenson school of Christmas light Repair!”  Boy did he find that funny.  He laughed and we had a long talk about Christmas past and I felt like I was right around the corner instead of the long distance between us.

So today I hung lights that didn’t connect correctly.  I needed a grounded extension cord for some of it.  Went to Walmart and got one, took down the lights and got the ideal from my dad to light them up first, connect them then put them up.  Everything was in place and working when Alex gets off the school bus and steps on a string going across the front porch, although I told him to go up the walkway!  I HAD to go BACK to Walmart and get another string of colored lights because I was NOT going to go through the string.  I got them all lit again when for some strange reason a string of colored lights went out on the first shrub.  I went back to Walmart and got another string of colored lights and put them up and now a string of white lights are out on the center post so I give in.  I’m going  to say it’s not the lights so they will burn until  New Years  but there is a short in the shrub.  It’s not the lights!

So neighbor, in case you were wondering,  

  

  

 

 I’m not trying to keep up with the Jones’s.  It’s way more serious than that.  I’m trying to keep up with the memories my grandfather (may he rest in peace) and my dad (may God grant him a many more Christmas) left me.  I’m trying to light up my generation’s memories in hopes that I’ll stay lit up in their minds and never burn out.

So for the 7th day – Light up your houses!
  
Until next time, thanks for perusing and have a good night.

My Invitation to a Barbie Party

I was invited to a Barbie Party by a younger girl friend.  I was so excited and also too embarrassed to admit I didn’t know what kind of party it was.  In fact, I thought I knew.  My version of a Barbie Party was a group of girls getting together to drink cosmos and talk about anything that entered the conversation.  I came up with the conclusion you wore pink of course and some sort of mule styled shoes. As the date got closer, I started to get an uneasy feeling about it all.  I didn’t want to be out of the know and just ask what is a Barbie party to my friend.  I didn’t want to be uncool, so I asked my daughter, who just laughed at me and said, “I wasn’t invited!”  Okay she was happy just to leave me flapping in the wind.  I just kept my vision in mind and purchased a pair of straight leg jeans.  Lord knows I have plenty of pink up in here.

The day of the party I dropped off a plate of appetizers and a salad at the party location.  My girl asked if I wanted to see the cake?  Sure I did, what kind of friend do you think I am?  You my girl, your super excited about your birthday cake.  You’ve been talking about it all week.  When she opened the box, it was a penis cake?  OMG what kind of party was this?  It just didn’t matter at this point.  I wasn’t gonna show all up in the strip club with no dollar bills!  When I got back to the house I asked my daughter if a Barbie Party was a exotic party or a male dancer party or maybe even a toy party?  She just laughed and said, “Worse.”  Okay, I’m always telling my kids to use their words so I looked it up in the dictionary.  The Urban Dictionary and guess what, there is actually a definition in there.  I just can’t make this stuff up!

“Barbie party – incapacitating a female and or females by either a club or drug and having your way with their unconscious body or bodies, this is usually performed by the incapacitator alone, friends must be very trust worthy! usually performed only on really hot chicks that you couldn’t get otherwise.”

The only thing I got out of that definitions was, she didn’t know what a Barbie party was either!  We are like minded. Besides the cake, her definition was right up there with minds.  I missed a fun party.

Mundy Madness – The Vow of Silence

Well Wonderers:

Today is as good as any day to tell you about my madness.  So get your cup of coffee or whatever it’s your drinking because I’m going to be awhile.

First let me say it is not easy to not talk about something.   I had a heavy predictiment.  I was praying to GOD to help me so much to the point that I actually took it to pen and paper.  For me that Is the same as taking it to the alter and at that time you are to put it down and leave it in the hands of the Lord.  But I couldn’t.  No matter what the conversation was it always rounded out to my predictiment, my home’s foundation had cracked.

Is there a such thing as a small crack?

I notified our home warranty company and they sent out an engineer to review the situation.  Everyone in the neighborhood told me that they were just going to put a crack gauge on the house.  But I thought, NO not my house.  They are going to fix my house.   Needless to say I did get that answer that there was nothing structurally wrong with my house.

My poor husband.  I was like, “Do something, call somebody before my house falls to the ground!”  At the same time, my mother was ill and I went to Philadelphia leaving my husband to deal with the situation.  I was calling him every day.  I had him call a geo-technical engineer, Ramjack, the county, our house inspector, anybody who could give me an answer to my problem.  What I learned was I had a bigger problem than I thought for what the letter said was – there was nothing structurally wrong with the house but that we were being advised to fix the main crack.  Oh, did I tell you I had multiple cracks but one was so bad the it has deflected and was a trip hazard.  My brand new house of 3 years.

When I came back into town, my husband informs me that the problem was worst than we thought because no one would touch it.  I call a concrete guy, a brick mason.  a jack of all trades guy that said he would fix it for $200.00 but to tell the warranty company that we fixed it because he wasn’t licensed.  The last person I spoke to said this, “Your at a Catch 22.  If I fix it and it gets worse, your warranty company will say I did something wrong.  If you fix it and it gets worse, you did something wrong.  If you do nothing and it gets worse its because you didn’t fix it as advised.  Either way they were not liable and I was screwed.  What else was I to do.  Well I thought about moving as in walking away from this house.  Shucks, I had good credit.  Just buy another house and everything else I needed and just walk away and let them foreclose on it.  I wouldn’t be able to get anything else for a long while, so I was actually writing a list of the things I needed until my husband said that was not an option.  Okay my next option was talk to an attorney.

So my attorney writes a letter to the builder and the warranty company along with the geo-technical engineer’s report and we wait.  Now at this time my nextdoor neighbor is sending emails out that her foundation has cracked. WTF!  Now the neighborhood is abuzz with foundation issues, drainage issues and that’s when I go into my closet and start to pray about it.  But all that was on my mind was my house.  That’s all I was talking about and I started getting cocky about it too.  I was saying things like, “There’s only two ways we can go about this, the easy way or the hard way, but either way, my house will be fixed. ” That’s when I had to take a vow of silence because if I had went on social media with my madness,  things might have really turned out differently.  Because when I stopped talking about it and put my energy someplace else. I started thinking differently.

The first thing I did was christened and named my house.  I chose the name “Ethanael”.  It means God given strength.

When I was not talking about it I was reminded that the only thing I didn’t like about my house was that is was carpeted .  But because of that crack the whole downstairs floor had to be removed and what a good time for them to be replace them with the hardwood I wanted.  Needless to say, everything worked out and the builder did a remediation on my house.   No one can predict ground movement and if they put my house on piles (like we originally thought) they might have fell and I really would have had a problem.  I still have seven years left on my warranty.  When I think about it now I am reminded God choose this house for me.  I had to be inconvenience but I know have everything in here I wanted.  All I had to do was shut my mouth and wait on him.