AHH, RAIN...

Rain. I love it!!! I always have. I remember being an ittey-bittey at grandma's house and running out into rain. Arms wide open, head cocked back, mouth open, tongue out and experiencing such incredible joy getting soaked to the bone. I loved to run naked through it. I still do. Much to the dismay of some of our neighbors. What can I say, me and rain got a history that goes WAY back. I love the sound of it. I love the smell of it. And I do indeed enjoy standing out there in it. Yeah, I'm a bit odd. Thank Goddess!!! We were predicted to get some serious monsoon kind of rains over night and into today. Guess what? It didn't happen. We are now in the midst of a wonderfully gentle rain. Here in 'sconsin summer is about to leave the building and fall is ringing the door bell. Yeah, transition. I love living in a location that has four very distinct seasons. Three of which include rain. Considering that I am an individual that is scared SHITLESS of water (hey, I almost drowned twice when I was a kid and when you get right down to it, fish fuck in it. Think about it! Yuck!!!) I stop just short of showering in a life preserver. Yet, I will stand in the rain and tap dance. I have no idea... I am setting here in silence, all of the windows open and listening to it rain. What is left of my heart is singing. I am within seconds of going out and standing out on the steps and getting soaked in water falling from the sky. I hope that you follow my lead.

WHEN THE HELL DID WE ALL GET THIS FUCKING OLD???

Oh my stars. When did this happen??? This coming weekend Sea Squirt and I are getting together with his older sister, his niece, nephew and his great nephew and two great nieces. Hang on, it gets much stranger. About two months ago one of his great nieces hatched an egg. Yeah, great-great uncle Sea Squirt. Yeah, I crawl under the sheets and spoon naked with someones great-great uncle. Which by default makes me great-great auntie Donaldo. I'm still not sure which on of those revelations freaks me out more. I have watched way too many little bitties become adults. Sea Squirts youngest great nephew is now a Senior in high school and he is checking out colleges. Please, I remember him with chocolate smeared on his face. When I first moved here to 'sconsin I met a wonderful couple. She was pregnant with twins. Guess what, they graduate from college next spring. WTF?!?!?!?!? Now, granted, I have had the good fortune to run through many. many time zones ( and more than my fair share of water sprinklers, plow through passports and sit under palm trees and giggle) but, where did the time go??? I know in my dark little heart that I have indeed had a damned good time with it (isn't that what you're supposed to do with it???) but that old dude in the mirror is a stranger to me. That reflection may still have a cheeky grin, a giggle in his throat and a spark in what is left of his eyes but it's the face. I honestly don't recognize it anymore. Yeah, me and this face have done some stuff. Been some places. Done some really silly ass shit. Here's to old cheese...

TAP DANCE!!!

Today, an icon was ripped from my fingers.  I am angry as hell!!!

Today we lost Ms. Lauren Bacall.  She started as a model and then went into movies.  And her world exploded into grandeur.  Hell, she was married  to Humphrey Bogart.  Can you actually get any better than that???

She was glamorous.  She was gorgeous.  Hell, she was who she was.  Shit, she was Lauren on the surface and movie posters but to her friends she was just Betty.  Shit, she was one of the founding members of the "Rat Pack".  Whether she wanted it or not. I love that!!!

Dear woman, travel safe, travel far and tap dance on stars...  With Bogie...

You will be in my heart forever!!!

OH CRAP!!!

Well, the day has finally come.  My 50's are soon to be officially over.  Yes, in a few short hours I officially jump into the shallow end of my 60's.  I'm still not sure where I stand on that one yet...  Hell, do any of us???

I can cuss like a whore (in 9 languages that I can somewhat remember.  Trust me, I know some REALLY colorful stuff), been me some places, done me some stuff, have met some wonderful souls and unfortunately have been to way too many funerals for way too many fellow crazies.  Oh, Goddess, shell shocked and t-boned way too many times my ass still goes on.  I'm damned thankful for that.  Why did I end up with a royal flush???

I am truly a "scratch and dent" sale.  In retrospect, I have loved every FUCKING second of it.  Even when I had to haul myself off the floor from a fetal position, dust myself off and go on.  Hey, sometimes shit just happens.  And sometimes shit can be an incredible character builder.  Who knew???

Tonight Sea Squirt and I are going out for cocktails and a couple of Reuben sandwich baskets at one of our favorite Madison dives.  I love that!!!  Oddly enough, my needs are indeed simple.  Although Sea Squirt would never admit to that.  I think that he views me as a "bit" high maintenance but I can't really say that I blame him.  Just think hand grenade with the pin pulled out...

Here's to a new door opening.  And Reuben sandwiches in a local watering hole that I love.  Hey, how can life possibly get any better than that???

YOU'RE NEVER TOO OLD TO BE SILLY...

I am a firm believer in this.  Trust me. The older you get the more shit you can get away with.  Pretty much because they just don't want to fuck with you and you're starting to smell funny.  Hey, if you're gonna make an ass out of yourself then just do it proud.  Jayne Mansfield had a quote that I embrace and hold dear to my heart to this day..  "Hey, if you're gonna make a mistake, make it a big one.  You're gonna get blamed the same either way".  How can you not love that???  It has become my credo.  Yes, indeed, I am a train wreck.  Hell, I'd have it no other way.  I have been known to address highrise buildings in the 3rd person and moon a city bus or two.  You don't believe me?  Just ask the guy in Michigan.  Goddess, he has some dirt on me...  He's got so much dirt on me it hurts!!!  Again, I would have it no other way...

I live in Madison, 'sconsin and we are a bit looney here.  Well, basically either under or over medicated at any given moment.  We don't care either way.  Either way can be the roller coaster ride of your life.  Yeah, just a bunch of loonies. I have been blessed.

This is Madison.  We're so not normal.  Today I decided to just cut loose and go completely feral.  Oh, please, I'm only 3 days from turning 61.  I can pretty much do what the fuck I want.  This city has some of the most amazing green spaces, parks and arboretums imaginable.  Truly world class.  One of the best is Olbrich Gardens.  A true stunner.

For the last 8 years a bunch of  crazies has been hosting a party there every July called "Escape Adulthood". Once again, right into the shallow end of the gene pool.  Yep, I did a cannonball.  It was a seminar and I really do use that in weakest terms imaginable.  Oh. c'mon, how can you not love that???  We got to write our own name tags.  BIG mistake!!!  Well, of course, I was Betty Grable.  A Lego licker, an expert napper and a Cap'n Crunch fan..  Yeah, I had to print REALLY small.  Little did they know I had a surprise up my panty hose.  Yes, my fellow cohort, Dr. Benson Honeydew and myself  revealed a "Device To Save The World".  OK, it was really nothing more than 7 cardboard boxes tuct taped together in a rather odd way.  Of course, all the while I am giving my discourse ( I honestly don't even know what that means...) I am wearing a McDonald's kids meal box on my head with a Tickle Me Elmo in my pants that kept vibrating.  I have to admit, that part of it was pretty fun...

As I plummet into my "Golden Years"  (BTW, who came up with that bullshit???)  I'm not going to do it quietly.  Oh, hell, kicking and screaming is SO much my style. Trust me, get the rhino darts ready.  I would suggest you have at least a dozen on hand.  Trust me, I ain't going down easy...

Sing like nobody is listening.  Dance like nobody is watching .  And then run naked in the front yard through the sprinkler. Scare the shit of your neighbors.  Hell, that's what they're there for!!!

Never, EVER stop being silly!!!

TODAY, WE LOST AN ICON...

Oh my stars, we have just lost something so precious.  Her name was Elaine  Stritch..  Star of Broadway, films and television.  Hey, if you're going to do it, well, then do it right.  Reach for the stars and just grab them out of the sky.  It just can't get any better than that.

Her character spanned decades.  She was a brassy old broad (goddess, I love those kind of women), she never backed down and she went through treatment a couple of times.  And again, never backed down or made excuses for who or where she was.  Again, I love that.  When you can embrace your mistakes and shortcomings openly it's a giant leap forward.  And I applaud her for that.  It does indeed take a LOT of stones to take that exit. It can be wreck less and scary. To go public the way she did took  "stones" to a whole other level.  I bow to her for her back bone.

Dear woman, you did indeed entertain me.  It more was than you can possibly imagine.  Travel safe, travel far and tap dance on stars...

IN THE NAME OF GODDESS, WHAT THE FUCK WAS I THINKING???

Corn.  Oh, wonderful corn!!!

Tonight my kitchen turned into its own private hell.  OK, I'll be honest, it was a self inflicted injury.  The sad part of it is, I never even saw it coming.  As an aside, I am one of those loons that raids local farmer's markets and road side stands looking for the fresh stuff that I can stock the freezer with for the winter.  Please, by the time I'm done our freezer looks like I'm stocking up for the siege of Moscow.  As Goddess in my witness, I'll never go hungry!!!

At any rate, I've been yanking stuff out of freezer like crazy to make room for the current years stash of nibbly bits.  Low and behold, buried back in the corner I find two boneless, skinless chicken breasts.  Damned near a year old.  Thank Goddess for vacuum sealers.  So I yank them out, put them in the fridge to defrost and then quickly forget about them.  Yeah, this was about 3 days ago.  Well, I found them today.  Well, I thought to myself, what the fuck am I gonna do with these things?  Fast!!!  So, I just grab one of my cookbooks off of the shelve.  Yeah.  Betty Crocker.  1959.  That should have been my first red flag...  I decided to make chicken breaded in smashed Corn Flakes. (For you readers out there that are familiar with this recipe, well then, you're as old as me!!!)  Again, what was I thinking???

So, I throw this simple 5 ingredient recipe together and pop it in the oven.  45 minutes later, it's dinner with some wonderful locally grown sweet corn (also from last year).  Hey, I was totally cool with that.  I think the last time I actually had this chicken was back in the early 1960's.  Goddess, I love me a time machine...

When we were done I looked at the baking dish and cringed.  At 375 degrees for 45 minutes butter, chicken grease and Corn Flakes turn into mortar.  A building material if you will.  The "scunge" (yes, that's my own word) that was baked onto the bottom of that thing was frightening.  I soaked it.  Without much success.  I went at it with scrubbies.  Then steel wool.  Again, all without much success.  So I soaked it again.  Hell, it's still soaking.  This stuff is a weird  cross between adobe and concrete.

I have racked my brain.  I don't remember my mother or any of my aunt's hitting this road block.  What the hell did I do wrong???  Have Corn Flakes started being made out of asbestos now???  I'm getting real close to just tossing the damned thing and buying a new one.

Goddess, why???

CHEESE...

OK, this really doesn't have shit to do with cheese.  I just thought that would be a good lead in...  After all, this is 'sconsin and we are indeed about cheese...

I am two weeks away from hitting a milestone.  Yeah, another birthday.  But this one is a  big one.  I officially am about to enter the 6th decade of my life.  Hmmmm.....  That's sort of an eye opener.  61.  I'm not quite sure where I stand on that one yet.  I am old, opinionated, cranky, bitchy, ornery, somewhat dangerous (to myself and others), nowhere near politically correct (thank goddess),  a bit crazy, a whole lot insane and I make some frightening noises when I move.  Hey, you have to put some effort into that cul de sac.

Oddly enough, in the last week I have done a whole lot of self evaluation.  My own little personal Purgatory.  Hey, ain't nothing more scary than judging yourself.  Growing old doesn't scare me.  But I hear the clock ticking louder.  Now, that does indeed scare the fucking shit out of me.  But, such is life...

I have spent my whole life having me a damned good time.  I am a country boy at heart.  Hell, I grew up chasing chickens and putting pennies on railroad tracks.  Yeah, I was a bit of a strange child.  Surprised???  I remember mayonnaise jars full of lightening bugs.  Which I would inevitably open up in the house.  Grandpa would cuss like a sailor and grandma would always come to my defense.  And then she would give me some Kool-Aid and some Oreo's.  Yeah, good times.  I miss those two so much it hurts.  They were both about the same age I am about to hit when they died.  Fuck me to tears!!!

High school was a joke and I barely made it through college.  Total waste of time and money.  I did party my ass off though.  In an odd way I guess it was money well spent.  Thank goddess it wasn't my money...

I've looked back on almost 6 decades and I see passports (4), airports (way too many. but still not enough of them yet), timezones (all of them) and countries that no longer even exist.  When I was young I was stupid.  Hell, isn't that what youth is all about?  I have nurtured that ever since.  Yeah, there is still a smile on my face.  You can't stop yourself from growing older but you do have the power to never grow up. Hey, if you can't tap dance naked in the rain then you're just missing the point of the whole journey.  I love that!!!

I love life so damned much it hurts.  And I'm glad to still be in it.  In two weeks Sea Squirt and I will be sitting in one of my favorite local dives, enjoying a Reuben Sandwich and a couple of beers with friends.  Yeah, life is indeed good...

Here's to cheese!!!

HOLLYHOCKS...

I am still trying to recover from what I refer to as an "Alice D. Flashback".  I was laughing so hard that Sea Squirt had to pick me up off of the floor.  For the second time this week I was transported back in time more than half of a century.  Once again, it was delicious...

A very good friend of ours has a garden out at her grandparents farm.  Can't for the life of me remember her grandmothers name ( very sweet lady that has problems carrying a radish).  Her grandfather's nickname is "Junior" and he's just a crusty old fart.  I love them both.  He's 88 years old. The stuff that comes out of his mouth just reduces me to tears at the picnic table.  Stuff like "You know, she won't let me feel her tits anymore!".  He has made me blow more iced tea out my nose than I can possible recount.  I love that kind of orneriness.

So, anyway, our friend posts some pictures of the garden on Face Book.  Some of them included some shots of hollyhocks.  That's when the time machine kicked in and the giggling started.  Yeah, 1959.  apparently I can say the word hollyhock but show me a picture of them and I go full blown bat shit crazy.  Again, the time machine.  Once Sea Squirt finally got me up off of the floor and back up into the chair I began to recount the story.  He looked at me with shock on his face.  Something akin to "how many head injuries have you had???".

I am the youngest grandchild on both sides of my family.  So I was "special".  Which didn't have quite the same connotation back then than it does now.  Although, when I think about it, it probably should have. Trust me, I'm short bus from the word go!!! Any who, just off of the back porch was a short white picket fence that was surrounded by hollyhocks on both sides.  These things were a palette of wondrous colors.  I was fascinated by them.  Yeah, I've been gay since the goddess was a small child.  Somehow, and I honestly can't remember how, I figured out that if picked off a full blossom, turned it upside down, stuck a toothpick into it and stuck a bud to the top of it it kind of looked like a female flamingo dancer.  No wait, that should be flamenco dancer. Sorry about that... I would line them up on the top of the fence.  Yep, I'm actually THAT gay.  This memory was so fucking vibrant it hurt.  I was in heaven...

When I was finally able to relate the story to Sea Squirt the look of disbelief  in his eyes was sort of frightening.  And in all honesty, you can't fault him for that one.  I could actually see the gears turning in his head.  And that question...  "Why the hell did I wink at you on Match.com???.  To this day, I ask the same question.

You have to be this old to have this much experience, excitement, craziness, over/under medication and just plain fun.  I would have it no other way.  Hell who wouldn't???

Dance.  Sing.  Go completely nuts.  Hell, ain't a better way to go through life than that...

HYPOGLYCEMIA...

Oh, goddess, why did you do this to me???

Hypoglycemia.  It's a fucking horrid medical condition.  And I'm up to my tits in it!!!  For those of you out there that know, well, you know that I've got it.  You've seen me have some "episodes" as I like to call them.  For the rest of you, let me fill you in...

I come from a LONG line of diabetics.  Yeah, that means your pancreas just isn't making enough natural insulin and your blood sugar sky rockets.  It's called insulin injections.  Well, I decided to take the other exit.  I have, quite possibly, the worlds most over active pancreas that you can imagine.  For no reason whatsoever it will kick into hyper-drive and flood my system with so much insulin that it doesn't need it hurts.  If I am lucky I may get as much as 30 seconds warning.  But usually not.  With any luck I at least get to sink to my knees before I pass out.  But again, sometimes not.  That sucks ass and I have the scars to prove it.

With no warning I get dizzy.  Then I get tunnel vision.  Then I start wobbling.  If I'm lucky I can at least scream "HELP!!!" before I quite literally disappear into the abyss.  Gasping for breath and sweating like a race horse. Fucking horrid and nightmarish is just the tip of the iceberg.  Over the last 10 years I have educated Sea Squirt on this nightmare.  I've no other option, he's just seen me go through this WAY too many times.  When he hears me yell "juice, now!!!" he knows what I mean.  He has literally picked me up off my back, propped me up and just started shoveling sugar into my mouth.  For the next hour I am a babbling idiot, yet, he manages to put up with it.  Thank goddess for small favors.

I did not know that I had this until I was 38.  I came within seconds of totally passing out while driving on the Interstate.  I luckily managed to make it to the shoulder and get the car into park.  It scared the bloody shit out of me.  A couple of weeks later I'm sitting on an exam table at a doctors visit and just go flat on my back.  They tested my blood sugar.  I didn't have any. None!!! Yeah, pretty much completely fucked. They poured so much juice into me it was amazing. I finally regained conscientiousness to find myself hooked up to a glucose drip.  It took me almost two hours to become vocal again.  Scary as fuck!!!  Well, of course, I end up with a nutritionist who tries to help me through this hell.  I had to completely change the way that I ate.  I had to give up 3 squares a day and become a grazer.  Yeah, I became a "muncher".  Pasta and I became very good friends.  I had to give up doughnuts.  That alone damned near made me want to hang myself!!!  But you do what you gotta do, right?

Over the last 2 decades I have realized that even when you do everything right sometimes it just doesn't work.  A pancreas can be a real bitch.  A truly completely  mean bitch!!!  Passing out is not my idea of a walk in the park with a purse dog.  Over the last year I have been getting slammed by this.  Big time. At least three times a month.  Out of nowhere for no fucking reason.  I hate unconsciousness.  goddess, why???  WHY???  Give me an answer.  Or at the very least, a clue...  Am I supposed to be learning something from this???  Just gotta tell you, it just isn't working real well.  Getting fucked dry just doesn't make a lot of sense...

To my fellow victims of this nightmare, I bow to you. Hell, I bow to us.  Only we can know what this means.  This just ain't easy.  With any luck you have very good friends that will pick you up, dust you off, prop you up, bring you some juice and a towel to wipe off the drool that we are more than likely covered in.  Sometimes shit happens.  And then sometimes shit just sucks ass!!!  I hate being picked up off of the floor when I'm not even really fucked up on something fun to do.

I want to sub-divide my pancreas and put in on Craig's List just to get rid of most of it.  I just don't need this much pancreas.  Or an enemy that evil.  goddess... why???

I AM AT A CROSS ROAD...

Dear goddess, pick me up and dust me off.  I am careening wildly into an age I never, EVER thought I would reach.  Yet, here I am.  I am within days of being halfway to 122.  It's blind panic on the brown acid.  I remember my grandparents being this old and they were FUCKING ANCIENT!!!!

I cannot believe that I am this fucking old.  But, I've been me some places and done me some the things..  goddess, come sit next to me.  I will tell you some stories that will scare the scales off of you.  I am indeed the weird dude with a passport, a plastic bag full of socks and an airline ticket.  Oh, wait, let's not forget about the smile on my face...

I have no idea where this comes from.  I am horribly, horridly damaged goods.  I truly am a train wreck of unimaginable proportions.  Shit, I scare myself sometimes.  Well, actually, pretty much daily when I think about it...  The fact that I am not in prison amazes me.

That I am not radio collared and ear tagged is kind of confusing me.  And goddess knows, I am indeed easily confused.  I'd have it no other way...

I'M IN HEAVEN!!!

As you know by now, I'm a produce whore.  Give me fresh seasonal stuff and I will tap dance and play a fiddle on your roof. I come from a long line of farmers and gardeners who knew what they were doing.  I grew up with so much fresh, home grown stuff it hurt.  I loved it.  Yeah, good times and good eats...

It is now late June and the bing cherries are coming in from Washington state.  Dirt cheap.  The stores are overrun with them and I am buying them by the bag full.  It's fucking wonderful!!!  In about two weeks the ones from 'sconsin will be hitting the market.  Again, fucking wonderful!!!  I am addicted to these things.  They are sort of like my own personal form of crack.  I dearly remember grandmas front porch with a bowl full of these things, chowing down and just spitting pits into the petunias.  Yeah, really good times.

I have so far destroyed two Polo shirts because I'm pretty much a messy eater.  OK, I'll admit it, I drool a bit.  Food is my drug of choice and I take no prisoners.  It's not pretty.  Sea Squirt just sort of sets back in horror and watches me make a mess of myself.  Hey, I make no excuses...  Don't even ask how many shirts I laid waste to with last months fresh strawberries.  It's actually kind of sad.  If food were a china shop then I would definitely be the bull.  Sea Squirt has just had to sit back and watch me lay waste to acres of fabric.  Again, kind of sad...

Next month gets really fun though.  Concord grapes start coming into season..They're heavenly.  Trust me, if I could figure out a way to freebase those things I'd be doing it!!!  Food and I have truly strange relationship...And they stain like nothing you can possibly imagine.  Hell, by the time my birthday rolls around I'm going to be completely purple. Head to toe.  And there may not be a wearable piece of clothing in the closest.  I love it.  And then the local corn crop starts to show up...  Ain't nothing more fun than a lap full of melted butter.  Trust me on this one, I do indeed know what I'm talking about.

Well, now... me and corn have special bond.  Sort of like the one that I have with potatoes.  It's a weird addiction.  Hell, I'll tap dance with both of them.  I have so many butter stains on my clothes it hurts.  I only eat corn from a local farm here, it's freaking heavenly.  I buy it by the bushel full and pack the freezer full of it.  Yeah, it's that good.  And then I spend the rest of the year just dropping it all over myself.  Life is good.. Yeah, I eat like a pig...  yep, smile on my face!!!

I count myself lucky.  I live in a part of the country that is full of farms, farmers, rich soil and people that know what to do with it.  To them, I bow.  Keep it going.  You feed my belly, you keep me going  and you make me sing!!   Thank you for the goodies  THANK YOU!!!!

A TSUNAMI OF MEMORIES...

Oh, goddess.  Sometimes shit just happens.  I am on the precipice of my 61st birthday.  I'm not quite sure were I am with that yet.  The right side of my brain is panicked and saying "Dude, you're older than mold".  Yeah, pretty.  But the left side of my brain (which btw, I love dearly) is telling me to cut loose and cause some trouble.  I like the sound of that.  Now you know why I like the left side of my brain...

So, I'm sitting at the computer this morning and an earthquake of memories came back to me.  The summer of 1959.  I was about to turn 6 years old.  I was spending the summer with my grandparents in Kinmundy, Illinois.  It's a town about the size of a postage stamp.  Ahh, yes, the South.  They lived right next to the rail road tracks.  And right across the street from a huge vacant lot full of peonies.  Their back yard was full of hollyhocks and the occasional snake or two. They had a burning barrel.  And a "glider" on the front porch that I was constantly rocking in as I enjoyed the strawberries that I had raided out of the garden.  And occasionally their next door neighbors garden as well.  I was a notorious produce thief.  Hey, I was a precocious little shit.  Surprised???

That was the summer I decided to go into business for myself.  An entrepreneur, if you will.  Yeah, I opened a drink stand out by the side walk.  Two gallon jars, a card table, one of grandpa's "ceegar" boxes with a couple of nickles in it so I could make change and a horridly self made sign that said "Lenomade and Gape Dink".  Only 5 cents a cup.  I'm not sure if I looked like an abandoned child or an indentured slave out there.  But my first day I made damned near 2 dollars.  Hell, I felt like a Rockefeller!!!  So, of course, after dinner I go charging down the hill, past the peonies to Jesse George's General Store to spend my nickles.I was in heaven!!!  I snagged 4 different flavors of Fizzy's, some cherry licorice, a balsa wood airplane and a Spud Gun.  (If none of that makes any sense to you then you need to use Google).  The Spud Gun thing would eventually become an issue of enormous proportion and my aunt Margaret and I would never talk again.  To this day I still harbor some issues of that incident.

Yeah, all this came flooding back to me this morning.  I started laughing so damned hard I actually slipped out of the chair and ended up on the floor in tears.  Then I stared giggling.  Once again, not pretty.  I loved it!!!  To be transported back a little more than half of a century and reacquaint myself with the little melon headed, garden raiding and happy thing that I was...  It was delicious.  I can still smell the burning barrel and the hollyhocks.

Hmmm, maybe 61 doesn't sound all that bad when I think about it again...

RAIN...

Oh, goddess, I love rain!  I have no idea why but rain makes me sing. It makes my heart race.  It gives me the opportunity to dance wildly in puddles like Gene Kelly.  And to run naked through the neighborhood.  OK, you probably don't want to take that exit.  TMI...

I love rain.  Whether it is a sprinkle or a monsoon.  And goddess, I have been through them both.  My intermittent wipers have served me well for decades.  And then I have literally been pounded to my knees in the Tropics in the middle of something of Biblical proportions.  I have been in the middle of flash flooding that would scare the scales off of you.  I have witnessed SUV's floating down streets and stairways turn into water features that you could literally white water raft in.  Yeah, I've seen me a whole shit load of water...

I can count at least 4 time zones (that I can remember) and two hemispheres when I have literally been beaten down to my knees by rain.  Yeah, some big stuff.  Oh, have mercy, I have been subjected to rain that words just cannot describe.  And I have loved it all.  Well, once I got finished being scared shitless at what was washing done the hill...

It is raining at the moment.  A nice, gentle June rain.  I am in heaven.  BTW, I am taking my clothes off as I type...

WHY??? SOMEBODY PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME!!!

As a species we are monsters of unimaginable proportion.  All you have to do is open a history book.  Trust me, it will scare the feathers off of you.  We don't give a rats ass about anything.  Including ourselves.  We have turned on each other with a vengeance for millennia.  Fuck, we've actually honed it down to a science.  Yeah, we've actually managed to perfect it.  And "perfect" is so NOT the right word in any way, shape or form!!!  Push come to shove, we make a rabid pack of hyenas look warm and fuzzy...

Why is it that at least once a decade we decide to go just full blown bat shit crazy and turn on each other?  I have, in my 6 decades seen so much cruelty and violence it crushes my soul.  Whether it be a mindless drive by shooting or genocide.  If either of those things, or everything in between doesn't  make you cringe then you have no heart or grey matter worth counting.

It saddens me to think that we will follow the carrot on a stick, no matter who is holding the stick and what dark alley they are leading us into.  And yet, we do it.  Willingly.  Hitler.  Well, enough said on that one...

If even a fraction of the info coming out of Irag right is true it's a a FUCKING NIGHTMARE over there right now.  Mass executions.  Beheadings for not being a "believer".  WTF is up with that noise???  C'mon, you all know me, I joke about religion at the drop of a hat.  I refer to the "goddess" for no other reason than to piss of the Republicans and I'm really quite good at that.  But this is insane.  It reduces us to a depth so low, so evil and so horrid that I think we have just reached a new low point that is quite possibly unimaginable.

Zealot's scare the scare the scales off of me.  Yeah, I'll stand up for what I believe in but I'm not going to start beheading people because they don't believe in what I do. Bitch slap them?  Oh, hell yeah! (Trust me, I can bitch slap you into the next time zone!)  Behead them?  That would be a BIG negatory!!!  Nor will I arm myself up to my tits in assault weapons and go nuts.

I just can't wrap my brain around why we keep on insisting to do this bullshit.  Again, hyenas....

How sad...

LIFE IS MUCH TOO IMPORTANT TO EVER BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY!!!

Oh, Goddess, I am looking at an exit ramp that is so incredibly strange.  And Sea Squirt and I are doing our damnedest to try to pull it off by this weekend.  It involves a couple of good friends (fiends???) on both sides, the First National Church of Elvis and the County Clerks Office.

I don't know where to start on this one.  Oh, hell, I'll just jump right into the deep end.  Do NOT fuck with me.  I actually know how to kill with my bare hands.  Trust me on this one. I'm a handful of weeks away from turning 61.  Yeah, I got some experience under my skirt...

OK, about 5 years ago 'sconsin put a referendum on the ballet that didn't actually turn down same sex marriage as much as it "defined" marriage.  Yeah, that would be one man and one woman.  It passed.  It actually changed our states constitution.  And in complete violation of it. I ruffled up all of my feathers, tripled my size and went just full blown bat shit crazy.  Yeah, it was that bad. I was outraged. And for those of you out there who have known me long enough, well, you know all too well how easily I can do this sort of chaos.  That it was not challenged immediately shocked me.  Last week a Federal judge said "I don't think so, Cupcake".  I did a happy dance of such severity it hurt.

As a caveat, in principle I do not believe in "marriage".  Who the hell thought that nightmare up???  But you do what you have to do.  It actually does have some perks.  However, with an hour and a half with a lawyer you can pretty much accomplish the same thing.  Yet, it can still be challenged.  That's NOT fair.

Do I believe in"marriage"?  Hell no!!!  Do I believe in the legal rights it gives you?  Oh, hell YES!!! Why it takes that single legal document to give you sanctity and some legal rights to make decisions when all hell breaks loose confuses the bloody shit out of me.

Sea Squirt and I are about to grab the moment.  Goddess know why but we are in the process of doing something totally silly this weekend.  Sorry, I have to stop giggling.  This is SO out of nowhere and SO out of anything that I believe or support but...  Sea Squirt and I are getting married this weekend.  Even if the ruling is overturned or put on stay we will be grandfathered in.  In 27 states.  I love that!!!

Here's to a warm body in the middle of the night.  And two opposing forces who can clash on a battle field and just butt heads and still manage to curl up around each other under the sheets a couple of hours later.  Sometimes, it just works.  And that is so fucking delicious it just makes you drool on your pillow.  In the words of Jackie Kennedy:  "Your first marriage is for love.  Your second marriage is for security.  Everything after that is about companionship."  I am his third, he is my fourth.  It all makes so much truth to me now.  Happy dance!!!

Yeah, life sometimes deals you a winning hand.  Hey, ain't nothing better than a damn good poker face and a race in your heartbeat.  Overall, I have been one of the lucky ones.  And thank the Goddess for that gift...

FOOD STORAGE CAN BE SO STRANGE...

Oh, my stars...

OK, Sea Squirt and I were just a little bit lit tonight.  I'm taking all of the plastic crap out of the dishwasher and putting it into the sink to dry.  For some unknown reason I decide to threaten him with wet Tupperware.  OK, actually it was Faber Ware.   Get over it.  Next thing you know I get wonked across the side of my head with some of this stuff.  Guess what?  It shattered.  Big time.  Next thing you know I'm standing in the kitchen with a freezie  pack on my forehead and up to my ankles in broken plastic.

I do not blame him.  I am the one who started it.  But I have a welt on my forehead the size of a walnut.  It's actually big enough that I can balance the freezie pack there while standing upright.  A part of me was laughing my ass off and the other hand was just angry as fucking hell.  Such is life...  Hell, I deserved it.  And I wear that badge proudly.  I just wish that it didn't hurt so fucking much...  All this being said, he did not do it viciously  or violently.  But goddess knows, if he had any sense he should have...  For the one's of you out there who know me, well, you know what I'm talking about...

How do I get myself into these situations?  Well, could have something to do with me being me.  I am an explosive little shit.  Duck and cover.  Trust me, I'm not a normal woman...

For almost 10 years Sea Squirt has put up with me. Who the hell knows why but I am damned glad that he has.  I just can't figure out why though.  I'll ask no questions...

Walnut be damned, Sea Squirt is a warm body in the middle of the night.  And I hope that I am the same to him.

Here's to walnuts...

WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND...

Would do something this ass backwards???  Ten feet of underwater dynamite fuse.  Even at the age I am now I wouldn't let me have access to that shit.  Yet, at the age of 14 I was able to buy it.  In cash.  goddess, the 1960's were such a simpler time...

OK, let's just cut to the chase here.    Me.  A large pan on the stove.  Some salt peter and sugar.  A bit of duct tape. And an empty compressed air cartridge.  And a very devious mind.  Very, very devious mind...

So, I took out a garage, a 1966 Chevrolet Biscaine, most of the side porch and a lot of windows for about two blocks around.  Thankfully it wasn't my house.  Just a couple of doors down though...  Oh, goddess, the fireball was amazing!!!  Needless to say I high tailed it to the cemetery and hid behind a large grave stone.  What I did had to do with youth and stupidity but today would put me in prison for life plus 99,  To this day, I sit on my ass in the kitchen and laugh my ass off.

I was not an easy child by any stretch of the imagination and as an adult I am even worse.

I would have it no other way...

OH, HAPPY DAYS!!!

Oh my...

Last night was way too much fun.  Three good friends in a tiny kitchen with shitty lighting.  Knives twirling.  Cutting boards flying.  Way too much hot oil.  And damned near every burner going.  Who could bitch about that???

Yeah, last night was the paella feast.  It started going awry as I began to load up the car.  I had way too much shit for this.  WAY too much shit.  I quickly grabbed the other two paella pans and fired up the Dodge.

About 3 hours later we are setting down to about 30 pounds of Pealla Valinciana.  It could have used about twice as much rice but with all of the other stuff we tossed in there, who really gives a rats ass???  Brandy (this is is 'sconsin after all) flowed like a river, shots of tequila came out of nowhere and we stopped just short of smoking our shoes.  We gorged like condemned death row inmates.

I love being in a kitchen with people who know what they are doing.  Of course, I love being in a kitchen with recent head injuries that don't have a clue.  Those are the ones that you put in charge of dicing the onions.   goddess, thank you for kitchens!!!

All of our freezers are stocked full of pealla.  WAY stocked!!!  The three of us are a bit (a bit???) adventurous and have decided to make this a reoccurring event.  As long as every time it's a different country.  We actually broke out a globe to find some interesting countries to eat out of.  For the life of me, I can't remember which one that we decided on.  I do remember it being kind of obscure though.  I'll ask later...  Let's just say that we ruled out England immediately.  My suggestion of Scotland and haggis was shot down damned near in a heart beat.  I said it includes a bottle of Scotch and they still said "no".  Wussies...  I think that we decided on something that involved a large bbq grill which to me means nothing more than open flames.  I love that!  I'm there for ya' baby!!!

In about a month there will be flames, smoke, hot oil, fire extinguishers, a 911 call and some band-aids. If not a large bath towel wrapped around what should have been left of someones  hand.  I LOVE IT!!!

Here is to food, friends and way, way, way too many shots!!!  Yeah, it just don't get any better...

AAH... PAELLA!!!

I am in heaven!  This coming Saturday Sea Squirt, two of our dear friends and I are going to crowd up in  a kitchen and make paella.  Just the mention of that word makes my heart race.  Knives will be flailing.  Stuff will be searing.  Yes, indeed, we will be slicing, dicing, smushing and gushing!

Paella and I go back a LONG time.  Over the summer of 1971, after I graduated from high school I back packed and hosteled my way across Europe.  When I found myself in Spain I discovered paella.  Oh, goddess, what a dish!  Every place I landed in had a different version of it.  Freaking heaven!!!  It's normally a sea food thing.  Fish, mussels, clams, shrimp.  You name it, it could go in there.  If you do it right you toss a whole lobster on the top of it.  But if you go 30 miles away it could be made with chicken and pork.  Let's just say that about the only thing you don't put in in paella is beef.  Rabbit, yes.  Beef, no.

I actually have 3 different paella pans.  Yeah, it needs its own sort of pan.  Mine are small compared to what I saw being used in Spain.  My largest one is about 20 inches across.  I saw ones in Spain with a footprint bigger than my car.  Hey, if you're gonna make paella, do it right.  You do not stir paella as much as you rake and shovel it.  There is no such thing as "a" paella recipe.  There are as many paella recipes as there are grandmothers.  It's kind of like "a" chili recipe if you know what I mean...

This weekend I will be doing a chicken, chorizo, three bean, saffron rice, lime, lemon, artichoke heart and black olive concoction that I find especially appealing.  And it is something that Sea Squirt can actually eat.  He has that shellfish allergy thing that just makes him explode like a puffer fish.  goddess, that must just suck!   Personally, I have been known to eat about 3 pounds of shrimp, oysters, clams and mussels in a single setting and wash it all down with a pitcher of beer.  Yeah, I'm pretty much a pig...

A kitchen, good friends, way too many sharp knives, boiling oil and the prerequisite bottle of tequila.  Someone is gonna get cut, burnt or scalded.  I just know it.  Luckily, another good friend of ours is a 911 operator.  We've given her a heads up.  We have her on speed dial...

Here's to Saturday!  Yes, a song in my heart, a tap dance on my toes and smile on my face...  What can I say, life just don't get no better than that!!!