Comments

Sorry for not responding to recent comments, I apologize. Things have been crazy here in a not-funny-don't-care-to-share kind of way. I appreciate all of the input regarding blog comments. I have decided to maintain a dialog in my own comments section, (but not today, because I have too much else to deal with, she said in a schizophrenic fashion LOL) instead of going to the blog of the person who left me a note, and writing, "Thanks for your comment" at THEIR blog. I will visit the blogs of anyone who leaves a comment, and may comment, but if I do, it will be a response to a topic on YOUR blog, not me dropping in to say, "Thanks for stopping by my blog". I would like to thank Darren Rowse of ProBlogger for bringing his readers into the discussion, and to Gone Away for opening up the debate over there. Hope everyone has a great day. I look forward to having my personal issues resolved, so I can focus on being entertaining (as I hope I was before LOL) again.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Trench Warfare In Our Driveway

We have a gravel driveway that is a thousand feet long and ten miles deep. It is paved with gravel. That is until the Great Rock Eating Phantom that lives underground wants a midnight snack. We'll get a new load of rock spread on it, and soon, the gravel is disappearing into the ground. Irregularly of course, so that the lovely white, smooth surface becomes lumpy and pitted. We've been feeding the GREP for 20 years now, and there is no indication of his appetite diminishing. The first few years, we thought, "Well, sooner or later the gravel will have been shoved into the earth completely to the bedrock, and THEN we won't have to dump so much on so often." It didn't happen sooner, we're still waiting for later. In between loads of gravel, dips and bumps appear. Husband related this story to me the other day, and it gave me a chuckle so I thought I'd share. Since we are out in the sticks, there is a plethora of wildlife out here. Deer roam fre
Read more

The Un-Martha

I am not Martha Stewart, and I couldn't be happier. Been seein' a lot about her on TV again, I guess she is going to be hosting her own reality show soon. We were both born with the same first name, and double X chromosomes, but the similarities end there. Many women turn to Martha Stewart as the epitome of perfection and stylish living. (This quote is directly from the food network bio) When America wants to learn how to make the perfect pie crust, plant an herb garden or fix a broken windowpane, it turns to Martha Stewart But geez, she always manages to make people feel bad about themselves in comparison. I make them feel better. Women look to me and say, "Oh hallelujah, there is someone here who": *Isn't a size six *Has unruly children *Is licking her fingers to smooth her hair down *Uses Vaseline for lip gloss Ms. Stewart's home was Nutley, N.J. Mine is more like Nuthouse. We lose things, break things, (including bones), get cranky, g
Read more

My Boobs are on File with the FBI

Here's a story from my hippie days that should brighten everyone's day. Somewhere deep in a storage room in Washington D.C. there may be a picture of my boobs. It was 1971 and the war in Vietnam was still going on.  College campuses across this great land had protest rallies to shout and demand that we get our troops out of there.  (Why don't we still do that?  But I digress.)   So I joined a large contingent of teenagers in a university courtyard to listen to folk singers and speakers filling our young, impressionable minds with anti-war sentiments.  Then the rumor spread. Someone said that there were men in suits on top of the nearby building taking photographs. Word swept through the crowd that they were FBI agents and you would end up with a "file"  <gasp!> if they could identify you. "Quick!  Cover your faces!"  shouted one of the speakers.  Some were carrying protest signs, so they shielded themselves with their placards.  A few gir
Read more