Lucie Gets Some Toilet Therapy

Was in a funky mood this morning.

Didn’t want to walk.

Didn’t want to write.

Didn’t want to read.

Damn!

I didn’t even want to watch Charlie Rose.

Decided that my bathroom needed a “good cleaning”.

Couldn’t do it BEFORE showering, though.

God forbid, I should clean my bathroom before cleaning MYSELF!

Yep.

I’m clean.

The shower’s clean.

And I can see my reflection on the inside and outside porcelain of my toilet bowl.

I’ve got a new lease on life and I’m “good to go”!

Nothing like a little “toilet therapy”, for flushing away your sorrows; when you’re stuck on your personal pity pot, eh?

Have a great day, People!

I know I will.

And don’t be putting too much gravy on your bread dressing, Turkeys!

Be safe and take some time to breathe between eating and shopping.

Catch ya next adventure, looking at life from my shoes.

 

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A Walk in the Rain and a Whiplash!

It started raining in Northern California.

Yay!

And like the US postal people, I will not let snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night, interfere with my morning constitutional through the neighborhood.

It’s good for my heart, my Buddha belly, and it “clears the ole cob-webs” out of that petrified gray matter of mine.

My infamous blue rubber rain suit and barn boots (of last season), have been temporarily placed on moth balls, and as much as I swore I’d never do this – my belly, booty, and bazoombas are now sporting Spandex these days.

Yes, I know, People.

I swore that I’d never wear a pair of Spandex to emphasize my jiggly gluts, knicker bonkers and tumultuous tuckus, but I found an XL outfit (in black, of course), that’s actually quite comfortable, and a tad nicer than that ole blue, rubber rain suit.

What can I say?

I also vowed that I would never be caught dead in a pair of Orthotics or rubber Crocs; but alas, old age and prudence has forced me to rethink my pigheaded stance of my youthful naivety.

Oh well.

Got a funny idea, I won’t be the first one to meet my Fairy Godfather in assorted-colored rubber slippers or old lady shoes with special insoles.

Nor will I be the last.

I’m not exactly what you’d call a fashionista (lest my blue rubber rain suit made you believe otherwise), but I have always had a keen sense of matching my sneakers and sport socks to whatever I’m sportin’; and I decided that my white, orthotic Dr. Scholl’s weren’t exactly “the look” that I wanted to project to my adoring public.

So, with that in mind, I purchased a new black pair of Dr. Scholl’s, and a matching, DrizzleStix Flex 54” Golf Umbrella, with spring action canopy, for when the rainy season began.

“I’d be damned if I’m looking goofy on my walks, this rainy season.”

“No siree, Bob!”

Well, the rainy season began last week.

(Or at least we hope it did!)

And I got a chance to fashion this new outfit of mine, to all the neighbors (umbrella and all) – on my inaugural rain walk of the season.

Yep.

Everything was going swimmingly, don’t ya know?

The Mario Andretti’s and Janet Guthrie’s of the neighborhood were mindful not to shower me with the mucky rain water from the newly formed puddles, that had pooled on the side of the streets, as they grinded down into 2nd gear to pass me.

And a few of the drivers were actually hesitating at the stop signs that morning.

Yep.

Miss Buddha Belly and I were actually working up a good sweat and gaily humming along, and I was thinking that maybe with all the rain we were getting, that this idea of using reclaimed sewage water (that certain county officials were suggesting for our drinking water), could be shelved for future draught solutions, and we could move past this distasteful idea.

Uh-Hun.

I’m happily humming and singing off key and just having a grand ole morning, walking and reveling in Ca’s first, sweet, purifying, renewing rain of the season.

Yep.

Suddenly, one of the prickly spinose teeth, on the neighbor’s tall rose bushes, precariously reaches out, bites into the canopy of said nifty, new umbrella; stops me dead in my tracks, and catapults my head backwards; like the rubber band of some anthropomorphic bean shooter.

Still humming and naively thinking that this was no big deal, I quickly raised the hood of my spiffy, new Spandex jacket over my head, for protection from the now steady rainfall; and then attempted to carefully assess the situation, so I could return to my morning walk.

Yeah.

When is anything ever simple for me?

I patiently tried to unhook the umbrella from this bush’s death-grip, and began getting wetter and wetter with each passing minute; when I aptly concluded, that this plan of action was going nowhere fast.

If I didn’t want to be soaked to the bones very shortly, I’d better head-back home, put on some dry clothes, get a pair of pruning scissors; drive back to the neighbors and try to salvage what was left of my nifty, new umbrella.

Uh-Hun.

Well, the winds picked up while I was trying to implement plan # 2.

Let’s just say, I need a new umbrella, and, like Dopey’s best friend of Disney’s “The Seven Dwarfs”, find myself sneezing at the most inopportune times.

Have a grand day, today, People, and remember:

Some days you just need to let it rain and get a little wet…

It’s good for the soul.

I’ll catch you next adventure, looking at life from my shoes!

 

Lucie and the Princess are Sitting Ducks!

October 24th was a beautiful autumn day in Northern Ca. – perfect day for bike riding and bird watching at the Alviso Marina Slough.

A delightful day for opening duck season, too.

Did you know that local duck hunters love the Slough?

Yep.

The Princess and I recently learned this little fact.

While the Phil and Willie look-alikes, of the infamous A&E reality show, “Duck Dynasty”, were at the Slough vigilantly scouting for Mallards, the Princess and I were gaily riding bikes and observing sandpipers.

So, as Phil and Willie inconspicuously floated by us in their Hawaiian-skirted, camouflaged boat, the Princess and I gleefully (and naively) scouted for egrets, herons and various other shorebirds, in the surrounding wetlands and salt ponds; while casually peddling our bikes.

Everything was going along just ducky.

We then unexpectedly heard the “pop pop” of a 12 gauge shot gun ring out from the left side of us, and saw the Red-Head camo caps of the infamous Phil and Willie two-some, come popping out of their Hawaiian-skirted, floating duck blind; like two camouflaged jack-in-the-box clowns.

As their gun muzzles suddenly materialized from their Hawaiian-skirted floating duck blind, we immediately saw Donald, Daisy and the gang, fanatically scatter throughout the slough.

Aware of the fact that they overshot their prey, and evidently observant of the two fat, old, women bikers staring at them with mouths agape; Phil and Willie quickly sank behind the auspices of their duck blind, like the furry, buck-toothed little moles of the 70’s arcade game, Wack-A Mole.

About the same time that we saw our daffy duck hunters disappear into the confine of their camouflaged boat, I began to develop dancing, whirling butterflies in the pit of my stomach.

It then suddenly dawned on me – these Hawaiian-skirted boats that were around us, were actually duck blinds!

And the Princess and I, with our brown and blue-visored bike helmets, were two, over-sized female Mallards, soon-to-be (unwittingly), the main ingredients of Willie and Phil’s delectable duck soup!

Cazzo!

Suddenly, the Princess and I felt like two of the chain driven targets of Disneyland’s original shooting gallery, and auspiciously determined that we needed to high-tail it to safer ground.

We skedaddled to safety and decided to take a breather at one of the Slough’s man-made lookouts; when we heard a group of four, seasoned walkers, casually come shuffling in from behind us.

At this point, the Princess felt like she was headed for a permanent dirt nap and was attempting to control her shaking, wobbly knees and calm her frayed nerves, so I congenially greeted our unwitting guests and nervously asked,

“So, did you guys hear the gun shots while you were walking today?”

“Yes,” the one woman kindly and promptly responded.

“We did.”

“Kind of disarming to hear the sound of gun shots so close to you while you’re out in nature, isn’t it?” she benevolently queried, while looking over at the Princess and giving her an encouraging smile.

“Yeah,” I nervously giggled.

“Seeing the muzzles of their gun barrels aimed in our direction, kinda made us question if we were soon to be wearing toe tags?” I jokingly added.

“I can imagine,” she amenably answered, while nodding her head.

Finding our interchange amusing, but highly improbable, one of their male companions calmly interjected, “We saw the duck blind, as we were walking. I’m guessing they were using 12 gauge shot guns; and with that caliber of gun, you wouldn’t be able to shoot the distance to where the trail is.”

“I can assure you,” he competently continued, “there’s nothing to worry about, but I can understand how you’d be alarmed.”

Before I could even attempt a response to his pithy comment, the other female companion (whom we assumed was his wife), smiled and tauntingly replied,

“Geeze, Harold, ya think?!”

At this point, the Princess had successfully gained control over her wobbly knees, and was s l o w l y unthawing from her catatonic state; when she started one of her asthmatic, snort-laughs.

For those of you unfamiliar with the Princess’s snaughling – it’s a condition that arises when she laughs so hard that she snorts, and emits a cacophony of sounds that is not for the faint of heart or what you’d call, “newly acquired acquaintanceships”.

Trying to salvage any decorum of dignity, that we might have had left, I awkwardly looked at the foursome, flashed them a toothy, nervous grin, and congenially nodded my head back and forth; while conciliatorily shrugging my shoulders, as if to say, “She’s new to me, too. Just met her myself today on the trail.”

Go out and celebrate life today, People!

And remember: “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass…It’s learning to dance in the rain.” Unknown author

Catch ya next adventure, looking at life from my shoes.

The Death of a Post

I’m so very sad right now that I don’t even know where to start.

I spent two weeks honing a piece that I wanted to submit to a writing contest and in the blink of an eye it “vanished”.

It’s gone.

I bought an extra hard drive. I did everything to “save it”.

I hate PC’s.

If I could, I’d take a hammer to this computer. I would.

I’m so sad that I can’t even cry.

It’s stupid.

I know.

But I feel like I lost a piece of me…..how stupid is that?

There are so many things going on in the world right now that deserve my time and energy, and I’m sad because I “lost a piece of writing”…

Big deal, eh?

I was so proud of this piece. It was funny and well-written and I was sooo proud of it.

So very, very proud.

I felt like I finally wrote a piece of work that was actually worthy of people’s time and energy to read it and it’s gone…in the blink of an eye.

Oh well, I think I can finally cry tonight….Catch ya later.