Olympic Articulation?

Some interesting comments made around the Olympic venues in China ~

1. Dressage commentator: 'This is really a lovely horse and I speak
from personal experience since I once mounted her mother.'


2. Paul Hamm, Gymnast: 'I owe a lot to my parents, especially my
mother and father.'


3. Boxing Analyst: 'Sure there have been injuries, and even some
deaths in boxing, but none of them really that serious.'

4. Softball announcer: 'If history repeats itself, I should think we
can expect the same thing again.'

5. Basketball analyst: 'He dribbles a lot and the opposition doesn't
like it. In fact you can see it all over their faces.'

OK, Ok ~ I Admit That I Am Spoiled

Spoiled? Yes, I am. My name is Peggy and I am s-p-o-i-l-e-d. My Dad used to say "you're not spoiled..it's just your perfume"....get it? Spoiled as in food smelling bad?

I returned from a nice three day respite and one of the places that we stayed had a TV as big as a matchbook and no cable. That was OK...I was in the mood to relax with a good book anyway.
Upon my return I raced to the nearest TV (one of six in the house) and it looked at me
with a very blank expression. Well, not TOTALLY blank..it said "No signal". I called Time Warner Cable and after 42 minutes of the customer service rep having me unplug and plug and do everything but sing songs to the cable box, she told me it was broken. Yesterday was Wednesday and she told me a repairman could come out on Saturday. After much cajoling, she put me on the all-day list for today. I needed to be at home from 8 a.m. - 10 p.m. She promised that sometime in that 14 hour span of time, a cheery, knowledgeable technician would fix my cable problem.
Today I called at 12 noon and asked where I was on the list and the customer service person told me that I was booted off the list because it wasn't an "emergency".
I asked her what the deuce constituted "an emergency"~ a self-administered surgical procedure that the cast of ER was going to help guide me through?
(she never answered me)

Then I asked if anyone was going to call me to tell me that I didn't need to be a prisoner in my own home for another 10 hours and she said she didn't know who made those calls but she wasn't allowed to call out because she was too busy. I told her she was too busy answering MY PHONE call when she could have called me to prevent me being as irate as I am!

I then asked her another question...."Do you think that your department should be renamed?" (no answer)

"How about the NO CUSTOMER SERVICE department?" pause

"oh, I don't think so..that would make me look bad"

REALLY?!!????!!?

She told me that no one could help me until Tuesday now...whoops...she said "Oh, there was only one spot on Tuesday and I see by my computer screen that one is gone."

I said, "Please connect me to the cancellation department."

"Are you sure?", she cleverly responded.

"Oh, yes, 1000% sure and if I could afford someone to sky write "Time Warner Sucks" I would do it."

"OK, please hold."

The next guy on the phone (my new Super-Hero) listened patiently and said, "If I could get your cable fixed by tomorrow, will you stay with us?"

Yep...another 14 hour "window" of waiting for a cable "fix"...tomorrow...

We'll see...and I will keep my cable ~ until I can get another provider out to hook me up to DWTS.

I'm still stumped as to how my Super-Hero could get me on the books when there was no opening for 5 days?

I wonder how THAT happened?

The Case of The Missing Eyebrows

This is serious.
My favorite set of eyebrows are missing.
I swear they were here above my eyes just a few years ago and little by little, they are being kidnapped.
I just wish the perpetrators would contact me for the ransom amount. I'm not sure how much I would give to get my precious eye accessories back, but I would consider a third mortgage on the house.

I only discovered the missing pair when I saw a picture of me (kinda cute, I might add) from 10 years ago and I gasped at the clear dark "Murphy" brows looking back at me. Now it's not like I haven't noticed that I have had to sharpen my eyebrow pencil on a daily basis and that the color gray on top of my head has moved slowly south to just above my eyes.

I am on a mission to capture those bandits who not only have borrowed my eyebrows but have been stealing my youth for the past 20 years.

The hunt is on...this may be the one case that could stump Perry Mason, Sherlock Holmes, Matlock and the team at Boston Legal. IF the thieves are caught, I sure would appreciate ALL of my "Stuff" being returned...including my memory card for my brain, my ability to articulate better and find the words that I want to use, my 1972 golf swing and concentration, my agility to play volleyball like Misty May-Treanor (OK, I never was that good at volleyball but a girl can dream, can't she?)...oh, and also my...

darn! I forgot.

What were we talking about?

Roughing It For a Few Days

For those who know me (even for just 3 minutes), you know that I am NOT a camper. I don't even like to LOOK at camper-type vehicles that I pass on the highway. Camping congers up images of mosquito bites, cold baked beans and the smell of the great outdoors (stale, unwashed clothes) that with one whiff, would send a bear searching for deodorant.

Well, a friend convinced me to go away for a few days to a "cabin". To me a "cabin" is one notch up from a tent, which is no notch up from sleeping on sticks, rocks and raccoon tails.

I don't know if we will have running water, a flushing toilet, a shower with a pulsating shower-head, a microwave or satellite TV and a DVR..I'm suspecting we will be missing some,if not ALL of these comforts of home.

Where I currently live, I have lovely woods in the backyard, complete with a bird feeder if I want to see nature. I have 4 bathrooms and 1200 square feet of "Chuckie-Cheese"-like games. People would probably spend a lot of money to get away from their cabin in the woods for what I am blessed with 360 days out of the year.

I will keep you posted as to my "outdoor adventure"...I PRAY that fishing isn't part of this "Survivor Burr Oak" torture-vacation.

Wow! This News Story is News Weary

I spotted the following article yesterday on Ocala.com when I was searching for information on the flooding in Florida. This news story wasn't exactly what I was looking for but...

From Ocala.com 8/21/08

OCALA –

“Ocala police say as John R. Herdmann rammed his sport utility vehicle into the front door of a convenience store and, once inside, stole two packs of Trojan condoms worth $2.99 each.

Herdmann, 37, of Ocala, was charged with commercial burglary and petit theft, according to a police report.

Shortly before 4 a.m. Thursday, a passerby called the Police Department and said he saw a man kick at the windows and doors of The Express Pantry and Deli, 15 S.W. 10th St., force his way in and exit a short time later.

The business owner was notified and met police officers at the store, where they watched surveillance video together. The video showed an SUV ramming the front door three times, before someone is seen getting out of the vehicle and entering the business.

While other officers were watching the video, Sgt. Johnnie Robinson found the suspect, later identified as Herdmann, hiding in the bushes at the intersection of Southwest Eighth Street and Southwest First Avenue.

Officers also found two packs of Trojan condoms on the ground.

Herdmann was arrested and taken to the Marion County Jail.”


Sigh....That guy was really hard up for those Trojans, eh?

Tomato Surprise

Will someone tell me why I decided to plant not one, but THREE tomato plants in the back "garden" this year?
I now have a trio of ENORMOUS "Jack-in-the-tomato-stalk" trees that are producing Texas-size tomatoes that are bursting at their seams. All of them have had to be staked and they are still falling over from the weight of these big boys. We couldn't find a stake that was 22' tall.

I feel like I'm on the bus with Forest Gump, talking about the 59 ways to prepare tomatoes (instead of shrimp). Tomato soup, tomatoes on the salad or as broiled appetizer with sprinkled parmesan cheese, tomatoes stuffed with chicken shrimp or tuna, tomatoes on a sandwich, tomatoes in an omelet, tomatoes in chili, spaghetti and on a pizza.

This is crazy. I don't even like tomatoes THAT much. I usually take them off my salad when I am out because I figure they are not "home-grown".

I always wondered about neighbors who usually ever talked to us would stop by with charitable smiles and a sack of tomatoes as a gift for us. Mom would mumble, shaking her head as they were out of ear-shot, "they do this every year when they don't know what else to do with their tomato crop"....then really low under her breath she would add, "I wish they had a still in their backyard instead of those plants."

And what about the "EAT-TOMATOES-AND-DIE" scare this summer?
So what were we thinking?

Ah, maybe it was in the spirit of the Olympics...thinking there is some kind of contest. We would HAVE to medal in this sport.

And to think, I still don't know if a tomato is a fruit or veggie...and now I don't care.

Olympic Medal Coming My Way

These 2008 Summer Olympics have been so inspirational! I wish I were 8 years old again so I could choose a sport that I could compete in that would allow me to enjoy rubbing elbows with the greatest athletes in the world. It seems as though as the gold medal winners started training when they were still in the womb.

I saw a TV interview with the oldest woman competitor who was 53 and her sport was shooting a handgun. In four years I'll be 61 and don't EVER want to even touch a gun so that sport is out.

My niece-in-law, Anniebelle and I were saying that there MUST be a sport that we could train for and compete in during 2012 Olympics in London.
I decided I was a little "mature" for 99.9% of the events...Anniebelle has a much better chance a finding a sport that she could compete in since she is a fit 30-some-thing-year-old with previous gymnastic competition under her belt (she rarely wears a belt, so shall I say, "waistband"?).

Well, I THOUGHT that I had found the perfect sport ~ for me, anyway. Badmitton!
I saw 2 minutes of the womens singles and it looked like an old ladies sport to me.
I can remember when I was in my early 20's I bought a regulation badmitton set it up in my parents spacious and flat backyard. I meticulously measured where the lines should go and bought some kind of lime stuff to mark off the alleys (see? I KNOW the jargon! THAT should count for something!).

I'm trying to convince Anniebelle to be my womens doubles partner but I don't think she is taking this seriously.

I, on the other hand, am a woman on a mission. I have been researching the origin of the game (in case an interviewer asks me) and the correct terms and rules. (a lot like tennis only with a few exceptions (even though a player is supposed to win by 2, maximum score is 30-29 so no one gets worn out, I guess)

The other rather embarrassing fact that I found out is that I've been spelling "badmitton" incorrectly. The game is BadmiNton. Silly me. Sure glad I corrected THAT before the medal ceremony.

A disappointment is that it is a lot more expensive than I had anticipated. My thught was that I would get a badmiNton set from Wal-Mart for $20. and practice in Annie's yard with the kids...I was even thinking that a garage sale would be the perfect place to pick up the equipment.

Ha! The "competition" set includes ultra wonderful netting and stakes and two racquets and 4 birdies...er, I mean "shuttlecocks" (that term seems like if I say it, I need to go to confession). This professional set cost $230.00.
But alas, there is more...I need the correct lightweight, yet durable shoes and racquet bag t carry my 4 racquets (What? FOUR racquets?? I only have ONE hand to grip the sucker!)

The competitive racquets (I was erroneously spelling it "rackets" prior to my research) cost up to $600. Gulp.

Oh, and then I thought that I could just show up at some court in Cleveland for an Olympic audition...er, I mean "try-out". Oh, no...I have to enter and win some USBA sponsored tournaments and pay $200 entry fees just to hit a little birdie around before some "official" gives me my plane ticket and uniform for London!

Trying to find a badminton league around here just to ease into my training is more difficult than finding a Shakespeare play starring Carrot-top.

But I am not to be deterred. I am in need of sponsorship to help fund this endeavor and during my qualification process I will wear a badminton jersey that advertises whatever...probably denture cream at my age.

Any ideas?

The "Change" WIll Do You Good

I find that I have change in my pocket every day and I put it in a cup, which is the adult version of a piggy bank.

The next morning I put a few quarters in my pocket (in case I see my 7 ear old great nephew Griffin and he needs some "arcade change"). See, I don't carry a purse because I am "right-shouldered" and I have an old sports injury that refuses to mend well and I have never been able to wear a purse on my left shoulder. Got it?

OK...so the other day I realized that I had about $42.37 in change in three mugs. Shouldn't I have a goal to inspire me to enjoy throwing money into a mug every night? You can tell all the interviews with the Olympic athletes has inspired me to actually start thinking about goals again (ah, I feel another blog post coming on)...

So, I decided that I want to join an outdoor community swimming pool in our area and by next May 31 when it officially opens, I am going to stand in line with my a wheelbarrow full of 59 mugs of coins to turn in to enjoy a summer of splashing.

This is going to be fun...until I want to order that rare (weekly) pizza and have no money.

Check in with me in three months, around Christmas time, to see how I'm doing. I hope I don't have to give away one of my mugs as a present to someone who surprised me with a gift and I have nothing for them.

Olympic Trivia

Everyone seem to be enamored by Michael Phelps, the extraordinary swimmer who is breaking as many records as Jay Leno has automobiles.

Here is just an idea of what he has eaten for breakfast...
An excerpt from his book "Beneath The Surface"

"3 Sandwiches of fried eggs, lettuce, tomato, cheese, fried onions, and mayo. One omelete, a bowl of grits, 3 slices of french toast with powdered sugar, and wash that down with 3 chocolate chip pancakes."

Gulp...Swimming 5 hours a day may just assist a wee bit in helping him keep trim...
Just wait until retires and still has the enormous appetite. He can compete in Sumo wrestling later.

Here is some questions to see how well YOU do ~

1.What do the five rings of the Olympics mean?
A) Five Cities
B) Five Countries
C) Five Continents

2. What does the Olympic Motto "Citius, Altius, Fortius" mean?
A) Harder, Stronger, Faster
B) Swifter, Higher, Stronger
C) Better, Bigger Bolder

3. According to the Olympic Creed, the most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but...
A) to play fair
B) to win big
C) to take part

4. Where is the Olympic torch first lit?
A) Athens
B) Greece
C) Olympia

5. Women were first allowed to compete in the Olympics in what year?
A) 1800
B) 1900
C) 2000





Answers:
C
B
C
C
B

Back to the Tomatoes

OK, now the three tomato plants in the backyard are 7 feet tall and we finally have one small tomato about as big as a golf ball on steroids.

The three plants came from three different kinds of seeds. Did you know that there are 4000 varieties of tomatoes? All of them are hybrids.
Since I am a gardener now, I act like I know what that term means. I suppose we should have given them plant food that was half gasoline and half electricity ~ but that would be silly.

The seed packets that we used for the three pots were called "Early Girl", "Big Boy" and "Better Boy". (I'm not kidding...look the names up yourself up! gardeners have a good sense of humor, I think)
I don't think that we should have positioned Early Girl inbetween the fellas because it seems that both Big Boy and Better boy are intimidated by the other and has become....er, shall we say, "Relaxed"? (Impotent, that is)

Who would know which one IS Better or Bigger since neither one wants to show his tomato! Maybe their vines aren't up to the challenge.

Now, Early Girl is putting out...various sizes, shapes and colors but none other than the wee one looks fit to eat.

It may be winter before we finally get enough tomatoes to put on one salad, never mind be one of those annoying neighbors who bring over 23 perfect tomatoes since their garden produced "soooo many more than they could possibly eat!"

Next year I'm growing dandelion wine.

I'll Trade You

So, Brett Favre is trading in his green and yellow uniform for a New York Jets number on his back.

I've never understood professional sports when they trade a player to another team. From my limited understanding, the player is a commodity who has no input as to where or when he goes to work. There are horror stories reported about athletes who show up at their locker at work and it's been cleaned out with a note directing them to report to another team by noon the following day.

Can you imagine leaving home one day to go to the same job that you've had for 16 years where you have worked, traveled and spent personal time with the same 25 co-workers, only to find your desk empty except for the note saying "You are moving to... New York City...or no, maybe Colorado....or perhaps Miami." And there is a guy in your office hanging pictures in the place where you had yours.

You are going to do the same basic job (maybe) in this other city that you will call home....for a while, anyway.

Gulp.
One must have an understanding spouse,eh?
What to do with the house?
What do you say to the kids?
Where will you live?
What school should the kids go to?
What church, book club and bowling alley will be waiting for you?

I would be better if I knew that some of the management who decides on these "trades" were in the same position some time and got traded themselves.

I’ll stick to the security of living at one address and just watching these guys get dirty, broken and insecure on the playing fields.

I guess there are "pros" and cons to being a paid athlete.

Now maybe consider going to give your boss some sugar.

Prize Tomato Plant

A few years ago, there was quite a contest between my Mom, my friend Susan and myself as to who could grow the strongest and most "productive" tomato plant.
One Sunday afternoon we all went out and bought our little tomato-ettes and planted them in three separate pots. For those of you who know me, even just a little, you realize that I am allergic to garndening. Look, I can't even spell it...

My hand starts to shake with the thought of getting dirt under my nails. Now I know that one can wear "gardening" gloves (whew, I spelled it correctly that time) but I don't like the feel of that material.

What the heck, this was a competition and I'm ALWAYS up for that!
So we all did our thing and Dad took pictures of us acting like the Martha Stewarts of tomato planters. See? I cannot even think of ONE person who is well-known for their gardening expertise. Pretty sad, eh?

The plants were all side by side on Mom's deck and Dad was responsible for watering my plant. He was given strict instructions NOT to sing to it.

Every Sunday if we weren't in town for the measurement of the week to see whose plant was thriving the best, we would have a telephone conference call.

As the weeks passed, Susan and I were both informed that tomatoes were at full bloom and it was time to name the winner of this hot-housely contested match.

We arrived with confident expectations and Dad ceremoniously marched us all out to the deck with our promise to close our eyes until he revealed the winner.

As he said, "Open your eyes", I gasped the three plants. There was Mom's in the middle and at first glance, it LOOKED to be the exact same size as both of ours...but it had at LEAST 29 ruby red ripe tomatoes adorning it like a tired Christmas Tree that was about to fall over from all the ornaments.

I quickly ascertained that Susan and my plants both had maybe 6 tomatoes in varying degrees of greeness and ripeness.

I was stunned at the depth of this defeat. How could it be? What plant food did she use? Maybe she resurrected the Jolly Green Giant?

Then I glanced at my Dad's twinkling eyes and slow grin...and Mom's sheepishly guilty look.

As I looked closer at Mom's Tomatoes on steroids, I noticed that ....
Yup...these were store-bought tomatoes that Dad had somehow rigged to look like they were the real thing.

I can't look at a tomato to this day without thinking of that moment.

Good one, Pop.

Missing Person

Has anyone seen this woman?
She has been known to frequent Oxford, Ohio during the school year, posing as a caring elementary school teacher. She supposedly lives in Cincinnati but her friends in West Chester haven't seen her since God was a Child.

She has been rumored to be dating some hottie fella who actually is NOT a plumber.

Ah, the memories we hold of the good times when spent in the company of Jana Orwig. (really, that's her name)

OH, Jana, oh Jana, please come back to our fold
Our days are so empty, and we feel left out in the cold.
If you were to visit, we would celebrate in style
Letting you hog the karaoke mike, if only for a while.

Friendships are like spring flowers
they need tender loving care
If you don't call pretty quick,
you will be cursed with losing your hair.

Please, if anyone knows where our missing child is, we would love to see her.

No Free Lunch

I understand the term that "the best things in life are free" ~
A newborn's smile (that might be gas) ~
A close parking place when you are in a hurry (and it's NOT a handicap space)~
A bobble head of your favorite ball player..if you are one of the first 400 kids paying $44./ticket to get into the venue.
A gentle, comforting pat on the shoulder when it's needed most.

And a FREE CAR WASH WITH ANY GAS PURCHASE ~ NO MINIMUM fill up at the local gas station.
I could literally spend 1 penny putting dripping in my tank and am allowed a free drive- through car wash..."look, Ma, no hands!"

I like to have a clean car. I will get my car washed at least once every two weeks and more often than not, once a week. So when I saw a Shell gas station just 4 miles down the road offering FREE CAR WASH...NO MINIMUM GAS PURCHASE, I almost wept with joy. With gas prices hovering around $4.00/gallon, it soothed the burn that scorched my pocketbook out $53.00 price for a fill-up. I started to calculate that if I put 10 gallons of gas in my tank, I could rationalize that it actually was 50 cents a gallon less since I could use the car wash that I would normally pay $5.00 for! I was almost laughing an evil laugh at people who were using the gas station across the street and not getting a car wash, even if they paid 20 cents less a gallon than I did.

And then it happened...the statement that will haunt me forever.

"There is no free lunch."
I drove by my "cleanliness is next to Godliness" station and it had CLOSED. No gas...no car wash...no cigarettes (even though I don't smoke)...

Sigh.

I guess I will have to look elsewhere for my freebies...

An Amusing Night

Last night I went to our local amusement park, Kings Island, with a friend.
Today I am taking out a second mortgage.

We had decided to go to our local "Disney-World-Wanna-Be" attraction since they had a $15.00 entry fee special if you arrived after 5 p.m.
Usually, the one day ticket price is $49.99 although no one actually pays that astronomical amount. There are discounts available from every grocery chain and if you check out their website, they have 7 different prices depending on how old you are, how tall (or short) you are, how much you weigh, when your birthday is and what your favorite color might be. One needs a masters degree in ticket-price-reading to
figure out the "best deal".

OK, so we get in line for parking and that is $10.00 unless you want to park within two miles, then it's $15.00. No shuttle service is provided from the parking lot to the entrance. I guess the management feels that visitors don't mind walking a warm-up mile or two before walking the 23 miles while inside the park.

We went to three free 30 minute shows. The first one was 16 kids (17-19 yrs old) singing and dancing to 1980's music. That must have been fun for them, since they were not even a gleam in the eyes of their parents. They tried their best but American Idol contestants don't need to be threatened by these performers.

While walking around we passed a tempting food shack that had no line so we decided to split one soft pretzel and one bottle of water. $8.65.

The second performance was an ice skating show with skaters between 20-30 and one 40 year old fella who smiled kinda funny at the girls. It was fairly good and nice to imagine ice not melting with the temperature outside hitting 93 degrees.

Now it was time to sample some Kings Island dinner fare while we waited for the next show, so we spent $25.28 for a sandwich and 2 adult beverages.

The final entertainment was called "Girls Night Out" and they weren't kidding. There were four 13-15 year olds "girls" who tried to shake it like they were at a country line dancing bordello while attempting to sing. It didn't work so very well and at times I felt embarrassed for them.

So, off we went to the arcade area to watch people spend $5.00 to throw a 15" basketball into a 15" hoop...time and time again. Guys actually walked away shaking their heads mumbling, "I make every one of those shots in my driveway!"
I kept wondering where people were printing out their $$ after the entrance fee, parking and food prices.

We went on one ride through a haunted house and while we were in line, there was a couple with two children and as we waited, we found out they were dating. They had driven from 3 hours away to spend TWO days from 10 a.m. to 9 p.m. "in amusement park hell" as the girlfriend admitted. I could tell she was hot, tired, inpatient with the kids hanging on her after two days of "torture". Now her boyfriend thought that this was the best vacation-date he could provide for them and he was going to squeeze every minute of fun out of his alloted budget.

I'm guessing next week his girlfriend may not return his calls.

My friend, Susan looks quite a bit younger than her 57 years. So when I saw a hawker bragging how he could guess her age for $5.00 or she could have her pick of the 9,358 stuffed animals, I spent the money to "stake that bet". He guessed that she was 45.
The stuffed dog that Susan won is called "Priceless"

All in all, we spent $82.00 for a very entertaining 4 and 1/2 hours.

And I would do it again in a heartbeat.