<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363</id><updated>2011-07-28T20:40:59.131-06:00</updated><category term='Changes'/><category term='Fun Finds'/><category term='Cats/Pets'/><category term='GolfGuy'/><category term='Rants'/><category term='Pastimes'/><category term='TTT'/><category term='DWTS'/><category term='Rambles'/><category term='Family'/><title type='text'>But Not For Lunch</title><subtitle type='html'>"I married him for better or worse,BUT NOT FOR LUNCH!"


Musings and meanderings about surviving retirement and life in general</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>90</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-9213002521383372970</id><published>2009-07-23T05:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T05:47:55.845-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>My Turn</title><content type='html'>Yesterday it was my turn to deal with the medical world.  Actually, yesterday and the day before.  What should have been a quick in-'n-out turned into a 2 day trial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About 3 or 4 weeks ago, I received a letter from Intermountain Health that it was time for my annual screening mammogram.  Several weeks went by before I got around to making the phone call to schedule.  I knew that last year I had actually had 2 mammograms - a &lt;em&gt;screening&lt;/em&gt; mammogram and later a &lt;em&gt;diagnostic&lt;/em&gt; mammogram to follow up on something the radiologist wasn't sure about.  I was able to have the screening one done at the IMH clinic that is only about 1/2 mile from our house, but I had to make the 32 mile round trip into the BigTown for the diagnostic one.  OK, the letter said &lt;em&gt;screening&lt;/em&gt; so when I called for the appointment, I asked for the nearby facility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dutifully showed up at the assigned day and time, but when my name was called I was told that there were some problems.  The tech who was to do the test said that Medicare only paid for 1 mammogram a year and this was only day 365 since the last one and they wouldn't pay until day 366.  "So, let's just re-schedule," I said - logically I thought.  Well, there's another problem.  The last mammogram was done digitally and the doctors will want this one to be digital also for comparison purposes and we don't yet have the digital equipment at this clinic.  "OK, I'll call and schedule at the other facility when I get home."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to happen.  The reception-drone behind the desk who checked me in was already speed-dialing the scheduling number.  You'd have thought she was a used-car salesman desperate to close the deal and have me sign on the dotted line she was so determined.  Meanwhile, she is dithering about how she had already had me sign the Medicare form and what should she do with that.  "Don't you have a shredder?"  The tech rolled her eyes at my remark and the drone just kept dithering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing that bugs me is that when I originally called, the scheduler put my name and birthdate into her computer and instantly knew everything about me - she had my complete IMH records right in front of her.  Why didn't she realize that I needed to be scheduled after the 21st or that I needed to go into BigTown instead of the local clinic?  The information was right there.  Second, reception-drone had the same information available to her when I checked in.  Oh wait, she would have had to THINK.  Thus, it was left to the tech to spot the problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday I made the 32 mile trip and was in-'n-out in less than 20 minutes.  The form that had the drone so concerned was waiting for me when I arrived - I really would not have minded signing another one.  At least I didn't have to be stuffed into a scary box and hauled off to God knows where.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-9213002521383372970?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/9213002521383372970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-turn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/9213002521383372970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/9213002521383372970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-turn.html' title='My Turn'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-175240081306255439</id><published>2009-07-22T05:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T05:45:19.465-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Snickers' Turn</title><content type='html'>On Monday, it was Snickers' turn to be stuffed into the scary box and hauled off to the vet's.  Over the weekend he had been exhibiting some of the same behaviors that had resulted in Pudge's trip to the vet, so we packed him up and headed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, including the vet, are a bit puzzled as to why these problems are now cropping up with him.  He is eating low magnesium food.  In fact, Snickers will eat only the wet low-magnesium stuff, which comes in 2 flavors - smelly and smellier - and Pudge will eat only the dry stuff.  We got the recirculating water fountain, and they both seem to be drinking fairly good amounts of water.  As the vet said, "We've shot our best bullets already".  There are a couple of things left to try - one is to give him a daily dose of kitty glucosamine/chondroitin (hopefully, it can mixed with his food) and as a "last resort" bring him back in for a sub-cutaneous injection of fluid to "flood" his kidneys and bladder and flush them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Snickers was very good on the trip to and from the vet's - that is to say, he didn't throw up.  Back when we hauled the cats along with us in the RV, we could count on Snickers throwing up within the first 3-5 miles of the wheels starting to roll.  Sometimes he would pee and poop as well, but the throw up was a given.  Since the cats were always put in their carriers when we were moving, the throw up was contained.  I had a tote loaded with paper towels, spray bottles, surface wipes, plastic bags, etc., and we quickly developed a routine in which Snickers would crouch in the back of the carrier while I cleaned and wiped up the mess. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, no throw up on the trip to the vet's.  He was terrified though - his eyes were extremely huge and he was quivering all over - no drooling, but that was a definite possibility.  He put up with the poking and prodding from the vet, burying his face in my stomach during the ordeal.  After the poking and prodding were over, he did growl at the doctor, so I put him back in the carrier while we discussed what to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last couple of days, he seems to be a little better.  All we can do at this point is keep an eye on him and hope that the measures we have taken will do some good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-175240081306255439?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/175240081306255439/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/snickers-turn.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/175240081306255439'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/175240081306255439'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/snickers-turn.html' title='Snickers&apos; Turn'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7838951432075570668</id><published>2009-07-19T06:32:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T06:36:34.502-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Sewing for Dummies</title><content type='html'>Mamie’s latest sewing project involves making aprons.  Since she basically doesn’t sew, that generally means that my latest project consists of my sewing whatever it is she has come up with.  But we decided that this time it would be a good idea for her to learn at least some of the basics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First up was to check the pattern books in the fabric department at oldWalmart (where we happened to be because they have a way better fabric department than our newWalmart).  We came across patterns labeled “Sewing Patterns for Dummies” – who knew?  Of course, oldWalmart did not have the particular one we wanted, so we headed across town to JoAnne.  There we found the pattern and 3 pieces of fabric that Mamie wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A caution about the so-called “Sewing Patterns for Dummies” is in order here.  I have been sewing since I was in 7th grade (over 55 years for those of you who insist on counting), and I must really be some kind of dummy because I found the directions tricky and somewhat misleading.  You DO need to have some idea of what you are doing or these patterns can get you in a world of discouragement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday afternoon was devoted to the first sewing session.  Mamie did the majority of the work, from ironing the pre-washed fabric all the way through the final steps.  She determined the pattern pieces she would need, separated and ironed them, laid out the pieces on the fabric, pinned and cut them out, sewed seams, etc.  I did have to help out and adjust the methodology on some of the trickier parts, but she was the main person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were both pleased with the final product, even though it is not perfect.  But this was a learning curve for both of us, and the next ones should go more smoothly now that we know where the pitfalls are.  She is already thinking big ideas about aprons for Pi (who LOVES to cook and whose personal idol is “that cooker girl” aka Rachel Ray) and aprons for each holiday, etc.  I guess we can add “Apron Lady” to my resume, along with Kleenex Cozy Lady, Coaster Lady, and Pillow Lady.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7838951432075570668?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7838951432075570668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/sewing-for-dummies.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7838951432075570668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7838951432075570668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/sewing-for-dummies.html' title='Sewing for Dummies'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1871806836939244595</id><published>2009-07-17T06:04:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T06:23:28.903-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>HOT!!!!</title><content type='html'>It is &lt;strong&gt;HOT, HOT, HOT&lt;/strong&gt; here.  Breath-stealing, lung-scorching, soul-searing hot.  The temperature has been over 100, closer to 110+, for well over a week; and it doesn't look like things will get any better for at least several months.  Yeah, yeah  - I know we live in the desert southwest and have to expect hot, but that doesn't make it any easier to take.  The wind which seems to always be blowing just adds to the misery, sucking all the moisture out of all living things - plants, animals, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UDOT is in the middle of a project to re-surface about 15 miles of State 9 from I-15 to the eastern edge of the Village.  Lots of workers earning some much needed wages.  I do worry about them toiling away in this heat - how in the heck do they take it?  They must be part lizard or really acclimatized to the heat.  I nearly collapsed walking the short distance from the car to the door of newWalmart, and that was at 8:30 AM!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mamie and her fellow Facebook fanatics in the southwest have been discussing whether it is better to go outside and be a roasted chili pepper or stay inside and be a chilled pickle.  Another discussion topic has been the HOT water that comes out of the supposedly cold water tap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever the gripe of the moment is, the fact remains that is DAMN HOT and not going to change for a long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1871806836939244595?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1871806836939244595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/hot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1871806836939244595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1871806836939244595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/hot.html' title='HOT!!!!'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-186091007890191591</id><published>2009-07-10T05:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T05:48:19.037-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GolfGuy'/><title type='text'>TV Controls</title><content type='html'>You know those parental control thingies you can put on TV’s to prevent children from watching shows that might possibly pollute their little minds and warp them forever?  I think there should be something similar so wives could lock out husbands from the Food Network.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golfguy periodically comes up with some recipe that he’s seen some food guru prepare and thinks looks good and like something we should try.  Nothing wrong with trying new recipes; I’m all for discovering something new and good.  The problem is these cooking shows have UNLIMITED budgets and most of these recipes contain at least 1 or 2 unusual, exotic, and expensive ingredients that no normal pantry EVER regularly stocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Golfguy’s latest find resulted in 4 items on yesterday’s list that are not part of our usual buy-list.  Do you have any idea how much fresh thyme costs?  Or any fresh herb, for that matter?  The few little sprigs of whatever couldn’t be more than 20 or 30 cents; the expense must all be in the plastic coffins enclosing them.  I probably can use up the remainder of the peach preserves on morning toast, and GolfGuy can probably use the Dijon mustard, but I’m not sure about the molasses.  And we haven’t even gotten to the meat part of this recipe yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the real kicker is that the vast majority of these recipes, once assembled and prepared, generally rate at least one “Blech!”  Very few are ever keepers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-186091007890191591?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/186091007890191591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/tv-controls.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/186091007890191591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/186091007890191591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/tv-controls.html' title='TV Controls'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7591564555091380330</id><published>2009-07-09T16:07:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-09T16:18:21.970-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Back to School</title><content type='html'>I know it’s only the second week of July, but I was in newWalmart today and they had HUGE displays of school supplies.  The schools in our county do start the middle of August, but it does seem a little bit early to start hounding parents about getting kids ready for school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I can tell you that the first, and most avid, customers of all those shiny supplies will be the classroom teachers.  The average “civilian” would absolutely NOT believe the amount of their own money that teachers, particularly elementary teachers, spend on supplies for their classroom.  Sure, some states supply the majority of the basics, and in others the parents are provided with long lists of items to send with their kids.  But neither method covers all the needs, and so teachers do what they can to fill the gaps. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The years that Mamie spent as a classroom teacher were focused on the summer back-to-school supplies deals.  At some point during the summer once the sales were on, we would get together and try to purchase what she might need for the coming year.  Of course, we could not anticipate every need and things didn’t usually last the whole year, but it helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first summer before Mamie was no longer going to be in a classroom, I was relentlessly drawn to the school supply displays.  With a feeling of great sadness, I stroked pencil boxes, brushed fingers over boxes of crayons, and gazed regretfully at piles of notebooks and stacks of folders.  The urge to buy something, anything, was great, but I turned away.  The second year was easier – I looked but didn’t stop.  Today, I just kept on going with barely a twinge of awareness of what I was seeing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What did get to me, though, were the “Back to College” displays.  The Walmart ad that came the other day featured all this stuff, and today the displays were all over the store.  Bowls, plates, cups, wastebaskets, laundry baskets, storage containers, sheets, comforters, pillows, towels, faux suede storage ottomans, every possible household goodie a college-bound kid could want was there for the taking.  And featured in 4 colors – PURPLE being one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Purple is Mamie’s favorite color, and the temptation to grab purple items for her was almost overwhelming.  She &lt;em&gt;IS&lt;/em&gt; 40 years old, but it seems like there are times when I revert and think of her as 20something.  I think I may have a problem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7591564555091380330?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7591564555091380330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/back-to-school.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7591564555091380330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7591564555091380330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/back-to-school.html' title='Back to School'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-8257072925104724420</id><published>2009-07-08T05:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-08T06:14:01.527-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GolfGuy'/><title type='text'>Gettin' Back in the Groove</title><content type='html'>Things are starting to settle down into the same old, same old again.  Mamie, Igor, Brendin and Pi are back safe and sound from their big road trip.  Sounds like they had a great time in Garden City - lots of family, food, and fun.  Mamie is off today for 3 days of conferences in the town just an hour to the north.  On Thursday, she and a friend will spend the night there so they can go to one of the Shakespeare festival plays being presented there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GolfGuy is back to playing golf - his elbow has healed up again.  The last 2 days of his big road trip, he was not able to play because his elbow had flared up and was really hurting.  He's just playing 9 holes at a time now, not 18, to keep down the wear and tear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pudge seems to be overcoming her bout of "stones".  Her pee clumps in the litter box are close to normal, and she's not going to the box a zillion times a day and straining to no effect.  I'm not sure the water fountain is a big hit, but both cats seem to have accepted it.  The change in food is going fine; they are eating the &lt;em&gt;REALLY &lt;/em&gt;smelly canned food well, especially Snickers, and eating the dry food as well.  Pudge is bouncing around again - all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The baby quail were back yesterday around noon time.  Several hours later, they were back - only this time so were the 1st batch of baby quail that I saw a month or two ago.  Now this first batch are "juveniles" and look huge in comparison to the little ones.  Baby quail dad did not like having the other quail family around his babies and shooed them off to one side of the yard before herding his family to the other side.  Guess there won't be any play dates in their futures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fourth of July was pretty quiet around here - no parades, no bar-b-ques, no fireworks for us.  I spent a good part of the day turning pounds of Costco hamburger into meatloaf and hb patties to stash in the freezer - boring and lots of work.  I did watch "A Capital Fourth" from Washington, D.C., on tv that evening.  Some of the music was good and some not so good - the best was when just the orchestra played as the Sesame Street characters and the blond bimbo singer in the skin-tight gold dress didn't do much for me.  The fireworks were OK; the fireworks from NYC were better, but by then I was pretty much falling asleep anyway so gave it up and turned the tv off.  Watching fireworks on tv just isn't the same as sitting in a lawn chair at the ballfield with several hundred other people and kids running around all over the place, hearing the boom and feeling the thump as the sky explodes with light and sparkles and a collective sigh and gasp from the crowd goes up.  Just not the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm headed off to Silver Sneakers later this morning.  After playing hooky for a week and a half, I forced myself to go on Monday because if I didn't, I knew I might never go back.  Our instructor had surgery 2 weeks ago and will be out for another 3 or 4.  Unfortunately, the sub isn't "TOO tall, too...", and I don't much like her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-8257072925104724420?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/8257072925104724420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/gettin-back-in-groove.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8257072925104724420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8257072925104724420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/gettin-back-in-groove.html' title='Gettin&apos; Back in the Groove'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4361143447899563111</id><published>2009-07-07T05:23:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T05:32:45.177-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Quail2</title><content type='html'>We had another little scurry of baby quail in the backyard yesterday afternoon.  Mom and Dad and seven little cuties following as they meandered across the yard and patio.  These babies would be the second hatching of the season - or maybe just a late first batch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suspect that they have been in the front yard for a while as Pudge has spent the last few days on the table behind my sewing machine with her nose stuck between the blinds, totally focused on something in the yard.  There are lots of low growing bushes and other good cover in front, and several months ago it appeared that a pair of ring-necked turtle doves was building a nest under one of the bushes.  But nothing seemed to come of it that I ever saw.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was a thrill to see the little parade of quail yesterday.  I really hope they come again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4361143447899563111?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4361143447899563111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/baby-quail2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4361143447899563111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4361143447899563111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/baby-quail2.html' title='Baby Quail2'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-5684540240941761923</id><published>2009-07-03T05:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-07-03T06:15:09.695-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>On the Road Again</title><content type='html'>Mamie, Igor, Bubby, and Pi set off on their big road trip yesterday.  Not as early as they planned to (3 am) as at 3:30, Mamie twittered that Igor was still looking for the power inverter so the kids could use their portable DVD players in the back seat.  I could do pages of rant on kids and electronic devices on car trips, the missed opportunities to &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;see this huge, wonderful country of ours, etc.  I suppose, tho, it does cut down on the whine factor - "are we there yet?", "I'm bored" - and the he-did, she-did issues.  And the so-called adults, Mamie and Igor, certainly hauled along their share of electronic devices to use when it wasn't their turn to drive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mamie at least put one of those devices to good use - she twittered updates all through the journey.  We read about pit stops and fuel stops, that Pi puked in Grand Junction, CO. and saw a baby deer by the side of the road just before the Eisenhower Tunnel, raindrops in Denver, farmers still cutting wheat at 9 at night outside of Oakley, KS, and wheat trucks lined up at the elevator in Oakley.  The last message was from just north of Scott City - about 40 miles north of Garden City and Grammie's house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a good travelogue and went a long way toward settling my nerves and calming my worries about these four precious people travelling in one vehicle over such long distances and in such a short time.  I imagine Mrs. Igor was also grateful for the news of Igor and her children (she has to work and take care of Max and Roxie and Jo the cat;  GrandmaT has charge of Mamie's house and Molly and Scout).  Hopefully, the return trip will go well (minus the puking) and the updates will keep coming.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-5684540240941761923?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/5684540240941761923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/on-road-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/5684540240941761923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/5684540240941761923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/07/on-road-again.html' title='On the Road Again'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1510798816768237968</id><published>2009-06-30T05:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T05:38:23.905-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Pudge's Stones</title><content type='html'>Pudge has stones in her bladder.  They are called "stones", but they are actually crystals -all pointy and sharp.  They form because Pudge doesn't drink enough water, and the urine becomes too concentrated and thick.  So crystals start to form, and they irritate the lining of the bladder because they are all pointy and sharp and cause problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's to be done?  One obvious thing is to get her to drink more water.  Yeah, right!  Ever tried to get a cat to do something you want it to do and the cat has no intention of doing?  Trickery is called for - like adding a little extra water to the canned food (which so far is working quite well).  The Vet also suggested getting a "cat water fountain" - a continuously recirculating water fountain that seems to catch cats' attention and attracts them to drink.  Of course, we couldn't find one locally, but GolfGuy got on the handy dandy internet and ordered one; it should be here tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another suggestion was to switch food to one with no magnesium - one of the three elements of the crystals; no magnesium, no crystals form.  We found the dry food (expensive stuff) and switched it out with the previous chow.  They seem to like it all right - always a concern as cats are such &lt;em&gt;picky&lt;/em&gt; eaters, unlike most dogs who wolf anything down without pausing to taste it.  We haven't as yet found the right canned food - I would just as soon avoid having to purchase the extremely expensive brand at the vet's office (and which most cats would rather cover up than eat).  I will do more looking today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting her into the carrier for the trip to the vet's office was classic cartoon "Bill the Cat" action.  The cat spread-eagled over the opening and the humans trying to pry loose the feet and legs and stuff them and the body in.  I expected the same scenario at the vet's office, but he just turned her around on the table and she headed right back in the carrier.  We think she decided it was better to be in there then out on the table where that man kept pushing on her bladder, trying to make her pee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We expected her to really "punish" us when we got her home.  She has a very long memory and harbors a good grudge quite well.  But after a short disappearing act, she emerged her usual self, wanting GolfGuy to groom her, settling on "her" chair by ours to nap.  At least we don't have to give her a pill - "pilling" a cat is NOT a pretty sight - or try to squirt liquid stuff down her throat.  I just wish there was a quicker fix for the problem;  it really bothers me to see her so uncomfortable.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1510798816768237968?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1510798816768237968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/pudges-stones.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1510798816768237968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1510798816768237968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/pudges-stones.html' title='Pudge&apos;s Stones'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7889561259163772986</id><published>2009-06-28T05:48:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-28T06:09:01.350-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>The Big 1-1</title><content type='html'>Bubby's birthday was Friday; he's now officially 11 years old.  He'll be in the 5th grade in the fall - top dogs in the school (next year, the class will be at the bottom rung again, such is the cycle of life).  I suspect one of the things he's proudest of at this moment is that he's "almost as tall as me", which I remind him is not much of an accomplishment as most everyone in the world is taller than I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His birthday party was yesterday - lots of kids and lots of noise.  And the biggest inflatable water slide I have ever seen.  I am so glad that I did my "bucket list" water slide thing last year at Pi's birthday party - there is no way I would have climbed up that thing.  Mamie said she wouldn't even try it, and Mrs. Igor admitted that she had fallen backwards off it 2 times trying to go up.  The kids didn't seem to have any problem though, scrambling up like monkeys and screeching back down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bubby is growing into a good person - a little lacking in focus at times, but basically a really good kid and really nice to have around.  I hope the coming teen years don't change him too much; change is inevitable but hopefully the basics are strong enough to remain strong through the turmoil of adolecence.  In the meantime, we'll just enjoy our good kid, interspersed with moments of exasperation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7889561259163772986?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7889561259163772986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/big-1-1.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7889561259163772986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7889561259163772986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/big-1-1.html' title='The Big 1-1'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1323930510407091955</id><published>2009-06-22T13:12:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T13:42:36.376-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Plain or Polka Dots?</title><content type='html'>If Mamie is involved, the answer &lt;em&gt;ALWAYS &lt;/em&gt;will be "Polka Dots".  There is nothing plain about our Mamie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years ago, she had me make a "sleeve" for her laptop out of fleece so she could put it in her tote and not get it all scratched up.  The fleece she choose was a BRIGHT smeary rainbow stripe - totally her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sleeve has served her well, but she recently decided that she needed something more "professional" in appearance.  I happened to be going to newWalmart the day I spoke with her, so she asked me to scout out the selection of fleece - looking for dark gray or black or brown or navy.  NewWalmart had a very limited selection of fleece - all "sherbert" colors (pale green, pale yellow, pale pink, pale blue, pale lavendar), definitely not Mamie.  The next day, I was going into the BigTown, so I stopped in OldWalmart.  They had an extensive selection of fleece, including a nice medium dark gray that looked like what she said she wanted.  This information was duly conveyed to Mamie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday, she showed up for dinner bearing the piece of fleece she had purchased.  Not sedate medium dark gray, but black background with polka dots in good bright greens, purples, pinks, yellows, blues.  She claims she "had" to buy it - once she saw it, she didn't look at anything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So polka dots it is.  It's not as in your face as the smeary rainbow stripes, but it is still completely Mamie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1323930510407091955?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1323930510407091955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/plain-or-polka-dots.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1323930510407091955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1323930510407091955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/plain-or-polka-dots.html' title='Plain or Polka Dots?'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4782794350626585992</id><published>2009-06-21T05:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-21T06:21:42.059-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Mea Culpa</title><content type='html'>Last Friday, I let GolfGuy go to Costco on his own.  Any wife worth her salt knows this is a &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;BIG&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;  mistake.  He did quite well his  first go-round there - only ended up with a watermelon and a bag of Mrs. Mays Ultimate Crunch (&lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; good stuff) in addition to the ibuprofen that was his original intended purchase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it was the second visit that was the kicker.  And for that I must take the blame.  I had called him on his cell to ask him to stop at the grocery store to pick up something for me.  He told me about this really great deal he had seen on a 19" Sony flat-screen TV; so good you just KNEW those things would fly out of there and be gone before the next day.  A few minutes of conversation had me agreeing completely that we had better take advantage of the opportunity to replace one of the ancient TVs in the bedroom or our "workrooms".  So after finishing his other errands, back to Costco he went to get this great deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must admit that I really like having the new, way smaller TV in my workroom - a space that is so stuffed with stuff that I have to sidle sideways in some places to get around.  I was feeling so guilty about ending up with the new TV in my space that I was seriously entertaining the thought of going back for a SECOND one for his room.  After letting me stew on the thought until the next morning, GolfGuy graciously said that he "would rather not spend the money now and put it toward a new set of irons" (when his elbow is better - yet again).  Have I been manipulated or what?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4782794350626585992?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4782794350626585992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/mea-culpa.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4782794350626585992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4782794350626585992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/mea-culpa.html' title='Mea Culpa'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7643478316456230010</id><published>2009-06-20T06:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-20T06:51:22.069-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Dad's Day Dinner</title><content type='html'>We did the Dad’s Day Dinner thing last night so Mrs. Igor could be there (she works weekends, usually).  It was a good evening – funny cards and nice presents - except for a couple of glitches.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glitch #1 – just as I finished putting the vegetables in the crock pot with the pot roast to cook for the last three hours, the phone rang and GolfGuy hollered it was for me.  It was a friend from Silver Sneakers exercise class, and we chatted for a while.  Then I went on to the next thing that needed to be done.  Several hours later I checked the crock pot to see if I needed to turn it back down to low and discovered that the I had not put the lid back on securely and there was a slight gap along one side.  By the time we ate, the food was cooked but not &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;done&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; the way we like it.  As Mamie said, it was good but certainly not my best effort.  Apparently I can’t talk and cook at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glitch #2 – GolfGuy had requested Lemon Cream Pie for dessert, which is finished off with a layer of whipped topping.  Mamie was passing a plate with a piece of pie to Bubby – and telling me to check the tiny print in the book she had given to Igor – when she let out a gasp.  We all looked at her and she was sitting there with a horrified look on her face, a big glob of whipped topping sliding down her front, and an empty plate in her hand!  Apparently she can’t talk and pass a plate at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, we all collapsed in hysterics – how could we not?  But all’s well that ends well.  While Mamie was scraping the pie off the floor, GrandmaT offered to split her piece in two.  I took her up on the offer, and we each had half a piece of pie while Mamie got to eat a piece as well as wear it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7643478316456230010?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7643478316456230010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/dads-day-dinner.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7643478316456230010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7643478316456230010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/dads-day-dinner.html' title='Dad&apos;s Day Dinner'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-3321146906802604111</id><published>2009-06-17T05:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T09:10:39.651-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>No More Chicken?</title><content type='html'>The San Diego Chicken is thinking of retiring – says so right in the SinCity newspaper. If you don’t know who or what the Chicken is, then you’re either not from San Diego or haven’t been to a minor league baseball game in many, many years. The Chicken was perhaps the first and certainly the most iconic of baseball mascots. All the others – the Fanatics, the dinosaurs, the Indian chiefs, the bratwursts, etc. – have one thing in common: they owe their existence to the Chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MLB was floundering around, trying to rebuild flagging fan interest; NFL teams had their cheerleaders in skimpy get-ups a la Dallas Cowgirls to catch attention. Ted Giannoulas convinced the San Diego Padres that his crazy Chicken would boost attendance and fan loyalty, and it did. So much so that it was his undoing. Other MLB teams began developing their own mascots – some good, some lame, some really bad – and frequently hired the Chicken to “train” the newcomers. Even the San Diego Padres came up with a fat Friar as a mascot (who, by the way, was one of the really bad ones).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Chicken soon found himself relegated to minor league games, county fairs, second-tier rodeos, and other similar events. But for 35 years, the quality of his performances has never suffered – just look at the faces of the hordes of children who trail after him and reverently reach out a small hand, just for a quick little touch. Over 100 of his gags are copyrighted and remain fresh and funny each time he uses them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family spent many happy hours at the San Diego stadium, watching baseball and laughing at the Chicken. In later years, after GolfGuy and I became thoroughly disenchanted with MLB and the spoiled, drug-abusing, money-grubbing brats employed by it, we would travel about an hour to attend minor league games at a small town north of us. By then, that team had its own mascot – something that was supposed to be a tornado, as I recall – but NOTHING could replace the Chicken as far as we were concerned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the Chicken does decide to hang up his feathers, he will be missed by more people than he could possibly imagine.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-3321146906802604111?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/3321146906802604111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-more-chicken.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3321146906802604111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3321146906802604111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/no-more-chicken.html' title='No More Chicken?'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4557119886175318165</id><published>2009-06-16T06:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T06:25:57.643-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>I am so bummed</title><content type='html'>Mamie and Igor are planning a road trip of their own.  They are going to Western Kansas to see Grammie.  They need to go see her; she is in her mid-90's.  They are taking Bubby and Pi with them.  Four very important people in my life, in the same vehicle, hurtling down the highway at high speed, pushing hard.  I don't like it; I don't want to think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They plan to leave on a Thursday and return on Sunday - one day out, two days there, one day back.  Long way, short time -really don't like it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend they plan to go happens to be the Fourth of July weekend.  No Bubby and Pi to go to the parade with.  No one to take me to the fireworks show - 10 pm is way too late for GolfGuy and Mrs. Igor has to work.  I will have to make do with some televised thing from Boston or Washington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am &lt;em&gt;really, really&lt;/em&gt; bummed!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4557119886175318165?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4557119886175318165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-am-so-bummed.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4557119886175318165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4557119886175318165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-am-so-bummed.html' title='I am so bummed'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7147151320195777107</id><published>2009-06-15T05:53:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-15T06:07:25.227-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Road Trip</title><content type='html'>GolfGuy and his BackNineBuddies are off on their annual golf jaunt.  As usual, they are headed to the Four Corners area - Page, AZ; Farmington NM; Durango, CO; and Monticello, UT.  Yep, they're hitting all four of the Four Corner states this time around.  I could probably think of better places to go and better things to do - 4 states in 4 days and 4 rounds of golf with LOTS and LOTS of driving sandwiched in does not sound like a good time to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not the "road trip" of college days - a bunch of frat guys piling in a car with a cooler of beer and heading off for an away football game or spring break.  This is 8 guys, 60+ years old, who will be too pooped to party at the end of each day.  I suspect that by the end of the last round of golf, at least some of them will be barely able to drag themselves back to the vehicles for the trip home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fingers are crossed that they have a safe trip - those 2-lane highways are brutal.  Well, the roads aren't so bad - it's the clueless and braindead other drivers that scare me witless, as described a few weeks ago after our Arizona trip.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7147151320195777107?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7147151320195777107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/road-trip.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7147151320195777107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7147151320195777107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/road-trip.html' title='Road Trip'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7871890869792151985</id><published>2009-06-12T15:06:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T15:18:51.544-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Paintballs, Violins &amp; Food Storage</title><content type='html'>Paintballs, violins and food storage.  What do they have in common?  Nothing that you or I or any semi-rational person could possibly conceive of.  But someone in the BigTown has connected them all into one business.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We see the storefront of this business occasionally as it is in the same strip center as the pie shop we sometimes frequent (although now that I have found a really good lemon cream pie recipe we have no need to drive all that way and spend that much money on their justifiably famous Sour Cream Lemon Pie).  And we have always commented on what a &lt;em&gt;VERY &lt;/em&gt;strange combination paintballs, violins, and food storage is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today when GolfGuy and I were driving in to Costco, we passed the van belonging to that business and painted all over it was PAINTBALLS, VIOLINS, &amp;amp; FOOD STORAGE", with appropriate graphic images.  Just to cap the whole thing off, the motto...slogan...whatever for the business was also included.  "Your family still matters!"  Not sure how that ties in, but then nothing else does either.  Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7871890869792151985?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7871890869792151985/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/paintballs-violins-food-storage.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7871890869792151985'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7871890869792151985'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/paintballs-violins-food-storage.html' title='Paintballs, Violins &amp; Food Storage'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1637710737427114633</id><published>2009-06-09T10:33:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T10:47:34.965-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Thief</title><content type='html'>I decided I needed a mid-morning snack, and since I didn't go to Walmart and buy cookies like I &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; wanted to do, I had to make do with cheese and crackers. One quarter of a slice of American cheese fits &lt;em&gt;perfectly&lt;/em&gt; on one soda cracker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got out the cheese and the crackers and took the twist'em off the stack of crackers. I turned around to get a paper towel to put things on, and when I turned back, Pudge was on the counter with the twist'em in her mouth. She saw me looking at her and took off. I eventually got the thing back - not that I don't have others in the drawer that I could have used, but it was the PRINCIPLE of the thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was not happy with the little thief. But then not nearly as unhappy as GolfGuy is going to be when he gets home from golf and discovers that she has totally destroyed the jigsaw puzzle he was working on (the majority is now on the floor under the dining room table) in her haste to get away from what she mistakenly thought was a chase by me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1637710737427114633?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1637710737427114633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/thief.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1637710737427114633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1637710737427114633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/thief.html' title='Thief'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-9159084255916263748</id><published>2009-06-07T08:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T09:03:59.166-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>You'd think I'd learn...</title><content type='html'>But apparently not. For the second time in about three weeks, I grabbed the wrong bottle and tried to shampoo my hair with conditioner. Believe me, conditioner does not lather worth diddly!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Granted I can't read the labels without my glasses, which I don't normally wear in the shower, but the bottles are totally different shapes.  Something should have dinged in my mind and said, "Oops, girl, wrong bottle".  Instead, I just blindly grabbed the bottle on the LEFT and went for it.  Because the shampoo is always on the LEFT and the conditioner on the RIGHT.  Sometime in the few days since I last washed my hair, the bottles switched places.  Of course, I am not the only one who uses that shower and those products, so draw your own conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that in the big scheme of things, this is a petty annoyance.  But it is not the happiest way to start the day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-9159084255916263748?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/9159084255916263748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/youd-think-id-learn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/9159084255916263748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/9159084255916263748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/youd-think-id-learn.html' title='You&apos;d think I&apos;d learn...'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2175646815229518208</id><published>2009-06-01T10:35:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-06-01T10:40:41.848-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Sunshades</title><content type='html'>Why don’t people use them?  Those fold-up cardboard things or the spring-loaded fabric ones that have to be wrestled into submission (although once trained, they are fairly easy to deal with) that go in your car’s windshield.  People in this area don’t seem to have caught on to the good things they can do.  Such as keep the interior much cooler, protect the dash from damaging sun rays, keep the seat from burning your butt, and prevent the steering wheel from instantly blistering your hands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have noticed this phenomenon ever since we moved here, but in the last week or so I have been paying particular attention.  Every time I have been in a parking lot – Walmart, Costco, restaurant, post office, health club, etc. – I have made note of how many vehicles actually have a sunscreen deployed in their windshield.  Other than the vehicle I have been in, on only one or two occasions has there been even one other sunscreen in use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live in a high desert area where it gets scorching hot in the summer and the sun blazes relentlessly.  You would think people would do whatever they can to ease the effects of the heat.  But it doesn’t happen that I can see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And they don’t tote water bottles with them everywhere – guess it’s only us wimpy transplanted Californians who are into the benefits of water.  But that’s a rant for another day…&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2175646815229518208?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2175646815229518208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunshades.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2175646815229518208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2175646815229518208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/06/sunshades.html' title='Sunshades'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7771603615899036937</id><published>2009-05-27T11:54:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T11:56:44.994-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Too...</title><content type='html'>We had a substitute instructor at Silver Sneakers today; our regular instructor is “going to Disneyland” for a week – with 3 kids in tow.  Not for me, thanks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the sub basically works the same muscle groups, but she does different exercises and a lot more reps of everything.  I’m pooped and already starting to feel sore; by tomorrow I am liable to be stiff as a board.  If we had her all the time, we’d either be in awesome shape or dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The major problem with her is that she is too tall, too tan, too blond, too gorgeous and, worst of all, too nice.  Other than that she is perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7771603615899036937?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7771603615899036937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/too.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7771603615899036937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7771603615899036937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/too.html' title='Too...'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1613833767835975438</id><published>2009-05-26T09:07:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-26T09:11:35.207-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Unfortunate Umbrella Incident</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Memorial Day, and we gathered at Mamie’s for a barbeque.  Good food, family, friends we hadn’t seen in a while – a very pleasant evening.  Except for the wind.  It was blowing hard enough that we had to hold onto our plates and food to keep them from being swept away.  I vaguely remember, at some point, Mamie coming out and asking if it had gotten too windy for the umbrella.  Someone replied that it had, so Mamie assumed that it had been taken down and put away and didn’t pursue it as she was involved in being the good hostess that she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, she called me in tears.  She had found the umbrella outside the patio wall, smashed up against the house with a broken rib.  She had planned and saved to buy that umbrella last year and had taken such good care of it – taking it down and stowing in carefully in the garage whenever the wind or weather was iffy.  She doesn’t have the money to replace it and is heartbroken at its loss.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neither one of us was there when the umbrella flew off so we don't know how or what happened.  Thus far, no one else has mentioned seeing it happen.  Actually, the incident is not just unfortunate – it is devastating to her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1613833767835975438?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1613833767835975438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/unfortunate-umbrella-incident.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1613833767835975438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1613833767835975438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/unfortunate-umbrella-incident.html' title='Unfortunate Umbrella Incident'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-303431864496042699</id><published>2009-05-25T06:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-25T06:33:46.569-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Clueless, Lame-brained and Witless</title><content type='html'>We made it back home safely from Arizona.  Although, I sometimes wondered if we would.  We ran into rain for most of the trip there – mostly light to moderate, sometimes really heavy.  Much of the time, visibility was limited and it was difficult, if not impossible, to see another vehicle until it was 15-20 feet away – and that’s when their lights were ON.  I noticed that a lot of vehicles did not have their lights on, so I started keeping a loose kind of count and came up with about 1 out 4 without lights.  Talk about clueless – made me wonder if they had even turned their windshield wipers on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Except for the stretch south of Flagstaff, we were driving on 2-lane roads.  Most of the route was slightly hilly to mountainous as we climbed to 8,000 feet north of the Grand Canyon and descended back down.  So passing was tricky and chancy, although many areas had numerous, short passing lanes.  The weather was clear on the home-bound trip and visibility was good.  One lame-brained driver going the other way decided to pass about 3 vehicles when he didn’t have room to pass even 1.  He was definitely bound for a head-on meeting with us, but GolfGuy slowed WAAAY down and pulled as far to the right as the narrow road and skinny shoulder allowed – one of the vehicles being passed also slowed.  So lame-brain was able to squeeze back in safely, even though he did not appear to make any extra effort to avoid the really ugly mess he was about to cause. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other drivers scare me witless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-303431864496042699?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/303431864496042699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/clueless-lame-brained-and-witless.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/303431864496042699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/303431864496042699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/clueless-lame-brained-and-witless.html' title='Clueless, Lame-brained and Witless'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2112814667277836991</id><published>2009-05-20T12:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T12:39:32.942-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Baby Quail</title><content type='html'>Had my first actual sighting of this year's crop of baby quail just now.  There appears to be 5 of them - the brood usually starts out with 10+.  They are just past true puff ball stage and getting little stripes on their backs, which will go away as they mature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The grass in the backyard is kinda long right now (GolfGuy's been slacking), and they were having trouble navigating.  They kept hopping up to spot Mom and Dad and get a fix on where to go.  Later, I will have to go out and spread a good supply of bird chow on the ground and get the water dishes down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pudge is the one who alerted me to their presence - she had her nose pressed up against the sliding glass door, staring intently at them.  Yesterday, it was a fat lizard that caught her attention.  She seems to be pretty blase about the finches and doves - same old same old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spring is now complete.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2112814667277836991?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2112814667277836991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/baby-quail.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2112814667277836991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2112814667277836991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/baby-quail.html' title='Baby Quail'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7286922476254044241</id><published>2009-05-20T08:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T08:30:34.111-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Yawn...</title><content type='html'>The overall best dancer did not win last night.  Actually, he &lt;em&gt;lost&lt;/em&gt; it - mostly due to his free style dance on Monday which sucked big time.  Cheryl should be shot for her lousy choreography - too much smarm and not enough dance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not a fan of GMW, but must admit she did the best job of performing the final two nights.  Notice I said &lt;em&gt;performing&lt;/em&gt;, not dancing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole show was obnoxious and boring to the extreme - 1 hour, not 2, would have been OK.  That "roast" bit by the so-called comedian was demeaning to all involved and insulting to the audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really upset when the final result was announced.  But after reading the blogs and comments this morning, I can put it in better perspective.  I thought I was obsessed and opinionated, but some of those people are positively RABID.  Time to move on people - me too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But why do I keep having the thought that GMW reminds me of a female Emmett Smith?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7286922476254044241?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7286922476254044241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-yawn.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7286922476254044241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7286922476254044241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-yawn.html' title='DWTS, Yawn...'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1048896687166098329</id><published>2009-05-19T08:26:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T08:32:23.242-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>MNF</title><content type='html'>Yeah!  Tony Kornass is OFF Monday Night Football.  He &lt;em&gt;says&lt;/em&gt; it was his choice - his "fear of flying" was just too much.  I don't really care why; I'm just glad he is gone.  We thought anyone would be better than Dennis Miller; boy, were we wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jon Gruden will be taking over the spot.  Gruden is kind of a smug little snot (my opinion) so it remains to be seen how he comes across - Aug. 13th is his launch date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MNF is once again safe to watch - at least unless Gruden proves differently.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1048896687166098329?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1048896687166098329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/mnf.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1048896687166098329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1048896687166098329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/mnf.html' title='MNF'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6787831579273887275</id><published>2009-05-17T10:37:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-17T10:40:10.381-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Good News, Bad News</title><content type='html'>The good news is that our President has &lt;em&gt;FINALLY&lt;/em&gt; chosen someone for a high government position who is &lt;em&gt;actually&lt;/em&gt; qualified for that post.  Not a sleaze.  Not a slime-ball.  Not a tax cheater.  Not a lobbyist.  Not a recycled political hack with convenient memory lapses.  But a morally upright and honest man who is open-minded and wide-thinking.  Utah’s Governor Jon Huntsman, Jr., is eminently and uniquely qualified to be the U.S. Ambassador to China.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bad news is that the President has chosen Gov. Huntsman to be the U.S. Ambassador to China.  When he steps down, it will be a tremendous loss to the state of Utah.  He has been governor for ALL of the people of Utah, not just the members of the dominant church (of which he is one).  He has stayed true to his beliefs but has not been dominated by the church leaders.  He has helped the state move forward and begin to adapt not only to the changing demographics of the state, but to move more in line with the rest of the country.  The state legislature has not always agreed with him, but he has held steady with his positions when he believes that is what is best in the long run – he doesn’t swerve based on the latest polls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The “political pundits” in the papers this morning were opining that Huntsman is positioning himself for a presidential bid in 2016.  I don’t know anything about that.  I do know this – the country’s gain is Utah’s loss.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6787831579273887275?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6787831579273887275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/good-news-bad-news.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6787831579273887275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6787831579273887275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/good-news-bad-news.html' title='Good News, Bad News'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4673623120034321244</id><published>2009-05-15T09:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T09:05:33.139-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>To Facebook or Not...</title><content type='html'>I think NOT – at least at this point.  I have thought about it for some time but could never quite take the leap; it was hard enough for me to tip-toe into the blogworld.  Mamie and the Igors are into Facebook big time – currently being obsessed with something about a farm on Facebook (Mamie hasn’t posted anything new on her blog since Easter and that was a cartoon, not even writing).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are reasons for joining Facebook, &lt;strong&gt;BUT&lt;/strong&gt; they are countered by reasons for not joining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could potentially make contact with people from my past that I haven’t seen or heard from in years. &lt;strong&gt; BUT&lt;/strong&gt;, I’m not sure I want to make contact with some of these people – there are reasons why they are “past”.  Also, I have read of instances where someone really shredded another person for some past transgression, real or imaginary, that occurred in high school or even junior high.  Some people just never manage to mature.  I don’t need that – I’m trying to eliminate “mean” from my life, not open myself up to insult or vitriol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could keep up better with what is going on in my children’s lives and minds.  &lt;strong&gt;BUT&lt;/strong&gt;, I would feel like a peeping tom; somehow it feels intrusive – like I would be trying to invade their world.  I think I would feel better about myself just trying to do a better job of maintaining some sort of actual contact with them.  I don’t HAVE to know every little detail of their lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other people could keep up with what is going on in my life.  &lt;strong&gt;BUT&lt;/strong&gt;, who would care?  And if they do, they can read my blog, or email me, or send an actual letter, or dial a phone.  There are many choices of communication – Facebook and/or Twitter are not necessities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, I think I’m out of reasons FOR, but I still have reasons NOT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometime ago, Mamie informed me with absolute horror in her voice that the mother of one of her high school friends now had her own Facebook page.  She appeared to believe that there was something really awful about a woman “her age” joining in on a young people’s “thing”.  She then asked me to please, please NEVER have my own Facebook page.  I haven’t forgotten that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am more comfortable being “under the radar” – writing the blog is as far up as I want to stick my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, how humiliating would it be if no one wanted to be my friend (close family members don’t count – they would probably feel obligated anyway)? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, NOT to join it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4673623120034321244?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4673623120034321244/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-facebook-or-not.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4673623120034321244'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4673623120034321244'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/to-facebook-or-not.html' title='To Facebook or Not...'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1602701770786878133</id><published>2009-05-13T17:38:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T17:55:48.602-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Twist'ems</title><content type='html'>You know those little plastic-covered wire ties used to keep bread bags and other such things closed?  Pudge, the "young" cat, &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;LOVES&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; them.  If she has one, she can entertain herself for hours - batting it about, wrestling with it, picking it up in her mouth to carry to some other better location (frequently, the water bowl).  But we have observed that if more than 1 or 2 are available, she's just not that interested in them - too much to deal with, perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She does lose them - under the white chest in the living room, under the stove or refrigerator, under recliners, under the sofa, etc. - but if she gets them in the pantry or front closet, she has learned to open those doors so she can retrieve them.  Which is why we have been finding them open in the morning - she was looking for her twist'ems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GolfGuy found a bunch this afternoon.  We have decided to take the carpet cleaner into the fixit shop for repair (the carpet is approaching nasty state), and he went to the front closet where it lives with the vacuum cleaner to get it and load it in the belovedRav4 for the trip to the BigTown tomorrow.  Later he showed me what he found under the carpet cleaner - a HUGE handful of Pudge's twist'ems.  She KNEW they were in there, that's why she keeps opening the door, but she hates both the carpet cleaner and the vacuum and won't get close enough to either to try to fish out her toys.  GolfGuy gave her one (the one she had been playing with is currently residing in the water bowl and she usually doesn't fish them out of there); the others went into the drawer where we store "her" twist'ems, to be doled out as needed.  Believe me, she knows where they are and WILL let us know when she thinks she needs one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1602701770786878133?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1602701770786878133/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/twistems.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1602701770786878133'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1602701770786878133'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/twistems.html' title='Twist&apos;ems'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-9073129994714322176</id><published>2009-05-13T17:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T17:27:01.919-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Company</title><content type='html'>Company is fine.  Company is good.  I like having company.  What I don’t like is all the bustling about getting ready for company, the extra work while they are here, and the putting away and catching up after they leave.  Lest anyone feel unwelcome, let me just point out that I am still fighting fatigue issues and I get plain worn out quickly, to the point that I can hardly enjoy the company.  GolfGuy fussed at me preceding the last company’s arrival, saying I was being too ambitious in my plans.  I thought I had things under control – after all, dinner was to be at Mamie’s one night – and the other 2 dinners were menus I had done frequently and were fairly simple.  But I also had a plan B lurking in my mind – not making lemon cream pies for the last dinner, just using the leftover Peaches ‘N Cream cake and Chocolate Pound cake with strawberries from the previous 2 dinners.  Which is what we did, and it worked out fine.  Although Mamie claims that I owe them lemon cream pie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have lots of help, of course.  Bubby and Pi are of an age to be really useful for setting and clearing the table, and they do a nice job of it.  Igor is a wonder at rinsing dishes and getting them into the dishwasher – neatly stacking up what won’t fit.  Mamie, Mrs. Igor, and GrandmaT all help with fetching and carrying as needed.  GolfGuy cooked the chicken breasts and served them, so we all had a part in seeing that people got fed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nonetheless, here it is Wednesday, and I am just now getting the last chair put back in place and the last of the extra dishes stowed away.  Next week I have to pull myself together enough for a visit to Arizona and the convening of the remainder of GolfGuy’s siblings (just 3 brothers and him out of the original 8 – getting old means losses).  And I am &lt;strong&gt;eagerly&lt;/strong&gt; looking forward to June and a visit from an old friend (&lt;em&gt;she’s&lt;/em&gt; not old – it’s just been a long time).  Her visit will be a quick stop – not nearly long enough – so the fatigue issue should not be a problem (I’d just ignore it anyway).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-9073129994714322176?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/9073129994714322176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/company.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/9073129994714322176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/9073129994714322176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/company.html' title='Company'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6267576128773263132</id><published>2009-05-13T08:55:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T09:02:08.225-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, semi-finals</title><content type='html'>Finally we are down to the final 3 - who, by the way, are the 3 I picked from the start.  No surprise that CuteCowboy is gone - as likeable as he is, he just is not that good as a dancer.  The judges are REALLY stuck on the GMW - I just don't see it, but that's me.  The Cheerleader gets no respect from the judges - or at least not as much as she is due as she is head and shoulders above GMW (I almost called her Miss ChunkyLegs, but that would be mean).  The only surprise next week would be if YummoG doesn't win.  I'm not holding my breath in anticipation, and you shouldn't either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6267576128773263132?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6267576128773263132/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-semi-finals.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6267576128773263132'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6267576128773263132'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-semi-finals.html' title='DWTS, semi-finals'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-333786566583944613</id><published>2009-05-12T09:03:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-12T09:08:48.457-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>How strong IS Mrs. Igor?</title><content type='html'>BigSis and her husband, LawyerGuy, were just here for a 3-day visit, and most of last week was spent in preparing for that visit.  GolfGuy was helping me out by vacuuming, and it brought to mind the incident of several years ago when he first took over that tedious chore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mrs. Igor and I were helping Mamie clean the rented townhome she was vacating.  I was standing on the kitchen counter, wiping out the top cupboard shelves, when I decided to move on to another section.  Being somewhat coordination-challenged, I missed the transition to the stepladder and plummeted to the floor – doing some serious damage to my right arm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some months afterwards I had limited use of the arm, so GolfGuy took over the vacuuming and mirror cleaning duties, which he continues doing to this day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The image that stands out in my mind is that of Mrs. Igor&lt;em&gt; LEAPING&lt;/em&gt; out from behind the ‘fridge where she was cleaning and literally &lt;em&gt;THROWING&lt;/em&gt; that thing back to the wall so she could get to me.  The girl &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;IS&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; strong, but come on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-333786566583944613?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/333786566583944613/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-strong-is-mrs-igor.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/333786566583944613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/333786566583944613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-strong-is-mrs-igor.html' title='How strong IS Mrs. Igor?'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-372921080244698459</id><published>2009-05-11T17:08:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T17:12:12.922-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Meet Max</title><content type='html'>The Igor family has a new member.  On Saturday, they drove to a not-so nearby Boxer rescue farm to meet Max, a 2 year old brindle male who had just been brought to the farm that week.  Not only did the 4 people-type Igor family members go, but they took Roxy as it was important to make sure that all involved would get along.  The meeting apparently went well because they returned home that afternoon with Max.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That evening we were all gathered at Mamie’s.  Igor left to “check on the dogs” and soon returned with both dogs.  Max is a nice looking boy and seemed very calm in the circumstances.  Max had had a traumatic week himself – separation from his family who had to give him up due to job loss and a move to another state, a stay at a strange place, and a long car trip with unknown people and dog.  Igor was keeping Max and Roxy on the outside of the front patio gate to avoid any possible problems.  The only incident occurred when Max decided he needed to check out Molly and Scout, Mamie's dogs,  more up close and personal and vaulted the patio gate – not once, but twice.  He wasn’t hostile, just curious at that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max and Roxy did get into a bit of a tiff over a donut on Sunday, but evidently not too seriously.  Later in the back yard, he treed Jo the cat when she had the bad sense to parade under his nose.  She spent about 5 hours high in the tree before she made her way down far enough that Igor could get a ladder close enough to extricate her.  Max and Roxy tiffed again briefly during that time – Mrs. Igor thinks Roxy was protecting Jo in the tree.  At the vet’s this morning, he also managed to slip both his collar and the cone-collar the vet had just put on him to chase a cat.  He couldn’t get much traction on the slippery floor and so didn’t get far in his pursuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than these minor incidents, he seems to be settling in.  He has spent the last 2 nights in Pi’s room – occasionally checking on other family members before returning to his bed.  He does need some work on manners, although he does walk quite nicely on leash and will stand still when told, but “sit” is not yet in his repertoire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He does not exude the joy of life that flowed so freely from Rusty – BUT he is not Rusty and should not be compared to him.  He will find his own way and place in the fabric of the Igor family life, and that is how it should be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-372921080244698459?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/372921080244698459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/meet-max.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/372921080244698459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/372921080244698459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/meet-max.html' title='Meet Max'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7906357977100587739</id><published>2009-05-06T04:49:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-06T05:01:35.026-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS Results</title><content type='html'>Boy, did I call that wrong!  I am still shaking my head in wonder after reading that the Rapper was the one kicked off last night.  Her fans must have all been out on the streets, doing their thing, and didn't bother to vote for her.  She certainly is a better dancer than CuteCowboy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't even begin to guess who will make the finals now.  I guess that's "why they play the game".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7906357977100587739?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7906357977100587739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-results.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7906357977100587739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7906357977100587739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-results.html' title='DWTS Results'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-305642393330680971</id><published>2009-05-05T06:33:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T06:35:33.510-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Sad Day</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a sad day for the Igor family.  They had to say good-bye to their beloved boxer, Rusty.  For over ten years, he was an important part of the family – most of the family photos have Rusty in them somewhere.  In later years, his earlier transgressions such as chewing the siding off the house and chomping through the cable TV line were mostly forgiven and laughed at.  He tolerated, perhaps even enjoyed, toddler Bubby’s and toddler Pi’s pounding, tugging, yanking and overly enthusiastic hugging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rusty was a handsome fellow with a wonderful brindle and white color, lively manner and engaging personality.  He loved people and welcomed everyone with great delight, sure they came just to see him.  He especially loved his family and shared everything with them – furniture, bed, food (which often disagreed with him and resulted in HUGE disgusting, smelly piles) – even to the point of joining in on the fun on the trampoline or splashing in the wading pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years ago, Rusty assumed an additional, very important task.  The Igor family acquired a female boxer who came from an almost abusive situation.  Roxie is deaf – stone cold deaf.  Rusty was her mentor and guide, acting as her ears and alert system, teaching her the ways of the family and of life.  She has been lost and bewildered since he left without her, pasting herself to Mrs. Igor’s side, trying to understand what has happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all knew this day was coming sooner or later; but, of course, it happened too soon, much too soon.  No matter how much you think you have prepared yourself, the reality is a terrible blow.  We grieve for the Igor family and the huge hole in their lives.  Go in peace, Rusty; we will miss you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-305642393330680971?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/305642393330680971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/sad-day.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/305642393330680971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/305642393330680971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/sad-day.html' title='Sad Day'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1004240087187406651</id><published>2009-05-05T05:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T05:30:25.495-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Quick Hit</title><content type='html'>Seems like every week there is one surprising knock-your-socks-off dance.  This week it was the Cheerleader's Samba.  Her waltz was lovely, but her samba really commanded attention.  The major surprise was that she managed to move so well in light of the rib injury the week before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, it is time for CuteCowboy to hit the trail.  He has worked so hard and so sincerely, but he is over his head here and has never managed to lose that deer-in-the-headlights look.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1004240087187406651?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1004240087187406651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-quick-hit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1004240087187406651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1004240087187406651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/05/dwts-quick-hit.html' title='DWTS, Quick Hit'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1353013941094524249</id><published>2009-04-30T11:21:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T11:26:04.221-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>New Register Receipts</title><content type='html'>Coming out of newWalmart this morning, I glanced at the register tape.  Whoa! Something weird going on here - it was too short and half of the items were missing.  I turned it over for some reason and lo and behold, the first half of the printout was on the other side.  Seems like a darn good idea to me to use BOTH sides and half as much paper.  Kind of startling at first, tho.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1353013941094524249?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1353013941094524249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-register-receipts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1353013941094524249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1353013941094524249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/new-register-receipts.html' title='New Register Receipts'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4604550505545694784</id><published>2009-04-29T15:57:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-29T16:01:44.184-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, this week's results</title><content type='html'>I, for one, am certainly happy that CountrySinger is gone.  But I fear CuteCowboy's turn is next week.  Although, it could be Cheerleader since her rib won't be healed and she won't be 100%.  I think GMW needs to go as well - she has not improved since the first week, even slipped back.  My guess is that YummoG and the Rapper will be the last two standing - that will be a really interesting face-off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4604550505545694784?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4604550505545694784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-this-weeks-results.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4604550505545694784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4604550505545694784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-this-weeks-results.html' title='DWTS, this week&apos;s results'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-8890198272036628570</id><published>2009-04-28T11:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T11:26:59.448-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Passwords</title><content type='html'>Google was being mean to me this morning – it wouldn’t let me access my blog account unless I entered my user name and password.  I could come up with the user name, but none of the various versions of my universal password seemed to work.  Google said they had sent an email to my gmail address with instructions – only I couldn’t access &lt;em&gt;that &lt;/em&gt;because it was demanding the password and I couldn’t remember the freakin’ password!  Finally, I managed to click on the right thing, entered the first few letters of my user name and the whole name and password came up.  Of course, the password was just represented by black dots, but I counted them and figured out which version of the universal matched and all was well with Google once again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A little while later, I decided to check on our account at a local bank.  When I tried to access it online, the whole stupid password issue reared its ugly head again.  This time the claim was that my password had expired and I had to enter a new password that would be “hard to guess”.  Yeah, right.  Hard for who?  The person probably trying to guess it would be me, and I sure don’t need things to be any harder.  The evil beings ruling the web site didn’t like any of my versions of the universal password – too close to the original.  So I had to come up with something entirely new.  This website doesn’t “remember” user names or passwords; they have to be entered each and every time.  That is probably the only reason why I have a chance of retaining the password in my mind.  And, I had to change the user name a few weeks ago as the website decided it resembled something or other and needed to be changed.  So 4 ½ years of retained memory flushed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have all sorts of bits and pieces of paper with scribblings on them, listing user names, passwords, etc. for various websites in one of my drawers.  The problem is that different entities have different requirements as to type and number of characters and numerals.  So a multitude of such things come into being; and not only do I have to remember what they are, but what they apply to.  And at my age, that’s not easy.  Hence, the piles.  I have been intending to make up some sort of master list of user names and passwords.  I think it is past time that I do just that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-8890198272036628570?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/8890198272036628570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/passwords.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8890198272036628570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8890198272036628570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/passwords.html' title='Passwords'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6687488941648128759</id><published>2009-04-28T09:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:21:51.002-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, this week</title><content type='html'>Whew! JudgeLen sure had a burr up his butt last night. He was unnecessarily cruel to CuteCowboy after the individual dance; although he did sort of try to make up for it following the team dance. But then he turned his spite on YummoG. Cranky is OK; it’s what we expect from JudgeLen. Mean is not, ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a lousy break for the Cheerleader. She has been good enough that she would have been way up the leader board, but I fear she will be booted without getting the chance to dance to stay. Bummer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julianne is still carrying the CountrySinger – I don’t share the judges’ new found enthusiasm for him. He remains really ordinary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nor do I understand the judges’ fascination with GMW. She doesn’t come close to TheRapper in excitement and Cheerleader in style.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rapper, once again, had the best individual performance – as well as best team dance. Some dances are inherently dramatic and effective when done well, and the Rapper’s Paso was extremely effective. I continually marvel at how her pro – who is not a tall person – can make himself look long and elegant. He’s one of the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;YummoG was a lot of unexpected fun doing the Lindy. It didn’t reach out and grab like some of the more intense, dramatic dances do; but it was good for what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ll see what the results are this evening. I won’t be watching – too painful to sit through all that nonsense. I’ll pick up the results from the internet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6687488941648128759?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6687488941648128759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/whew-judgelen-sure-had-burr-up-his-butt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6687488941648128759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6687488941648128759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/whew-judgelen-sure-had-burr-up-his-butt.html' title='DWTS, this week'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6316572027921146874</id><published>2009-04-24T11:13:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T11:17:29.197-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Pull-thru Parking</title><content type='html'>GolfGuy and I arrived at Costco a few minutes prior to opening time this morning – actually about 15 minutes before but our Costco &lt;em&gt;always&lt;/em&gt; opens 5-10 minutes early, unlike an Oregon one we used to frequent that waited, deliberately I think, until 5-10 minutes late so that there was a sufficient crowd gathered to cause a mini-stampede when the door did roll up.  Anyway, as we sat there chatting we noted a number of vehicles that had pulled through the parking spaces so as to land with their noses out to the driving lane – set for a quick get-away perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of these pull-through vehicles were SUV’s of some sort or vans with TAILGATES.  We wondered how these people planned on loading their purchases should some inconsiderate soul park behind them and actually pull close enough that not only could they not squeeze their carts in, they probably could not open their tailgate.  We watched one lady in a large SUV, who had no idea where her back end was, leave it hanging over the space behind her.  Whoever parked in that space would have no choice but to pull up close or leave their back end hanging out in traffic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we speculated on how much fun it would be, if we had an old beater of a car, to pull up bumper-to-bumper with one of these pull-throughs and then hide and watch what they did when they returned.  Do you suppose they might learn something?  Not a chance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are all these people that backing-up challenged?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6316572027921146874?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6316572027921146874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/pull-thru-parking.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6316572027921146874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6316572027921146874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/pull-thru-parking.html' title='Pull-thru Parking'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-8077118711098206766</id><published>2009-04-22T11:44:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-22T11:46:24.923-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS this week</title><content type='html'>Now that we’re getting into the doldrums of the DWTS season, I have found the perfect way to watch (other than reading a good book and only looking up for the actual dancing), is just to record it and watch the next day.  That way I can fast forward not only through all the commercials and the stupid Samantha parts, but also bypass the ever-so boring practice clips.  Also, my tolerance for the results show has dropped to 10 minutes, max; so I just check the ever handy internet the next morning and Voila! I know who is a goner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not at all surprised that LT was the chosen one this week.  His heart has never been into the show, and he never seemed to enjoy what he was doing.  Perception can be a major part of how people react, and it was easy to perceive that this was not where he wanted to be.  Although he might be a very nice guy, a dancer he is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cute Cowboy did a really good job on the waltz, but either he or the Country Singer will be the next to punch out.  The Country Singer’s pro partner is carrying him, but Julianne can’t do it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m getting less and less impressed with the GMW, although the judges – particularly Bruno – seem to really like her.  The Rapper is the one to watch – she just keeps getting better.  YummoG seems to have reached a plateau – hopefully he can find some way to regain momentum as he is still the best dancer on the show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-8077118711098206766?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/8077118711098206766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-this-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8077118711098206766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8077118711098206766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-this-week.html' title='DWTS this week'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6690856320491739362</id><published>2009-04-20T11:56:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T12:04:52.150-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>No More Warm, Fuzzy</title><content type='html'>This morning, GolfGuy went in to the BigTown to practice chipping golf balls - says that course's practice area is better than the one at the golf course a mile from our house.  OK, whatever works for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On his way home, he stopped at the local Jack In The Box to purchase 2 cold, delicious fountain Diet Cokes - one for him and one for me (because he can be really thoughtful at times).  The manager on duty refused to give him the senior discount on both drinks - "One person in the car, one discount."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think it ever occurred to that manager that he has totally alienated 2 customers - we won't bother to stop there again.  Not a good thing to do in these stressful economic times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am really disappointed by his attitude.  I had had such warm, fuzzy feelings about that place; but no more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6690856320491739362?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6690856320491739362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-more-warm-fuzzy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6690856320491739362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6690856320491739362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/no-more-warm-fuzzy.html' title='No More Warm, Fuzzy'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1365998441568378302</id><published>2009-04-20T11:51:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T11:54:03.777-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>May We Have Some More Spring, Please?</title><content type='html'>It is warm today, very warm – bordering on hot.  Tomorrow is supposed to be even warmer.  Last Wednesday it snowed.  As the natives say, that’s Utah for you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it’s only the late middle of April.  April is supposed to be soft Spring days, with just a hint of the summer heat to come.  It’s not supposed to be early Summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it will get hot, wretchedly, horribly hot for weeks on end come July, August, September, even into October.  But please, not yet; I would really like some more Spring.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1365998441568378302?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1365998441568378302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/may-we-have-some-more-spring-please.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1365998441568378302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1365998441568378302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/may-we-have-some-more-spring-please.html' title='May We Have Some More Spring, Please?'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6392839666626408165</id><published>2009-04-17T10:14:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-17T10:20:15.049-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Pi's Pillows</title><content type='html'>I have several functions within the family – Kleenex Cozy Lady, Coaster Lady – and Pillow Lady, among others.  Shortly after we moved here, Mamie asked if I could make her a “car pillow”.  I thought I could, so we selected an appropriate sized pillow form and fabric she liked.  And the pillow factory came into being.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soon Aunt Mamie decided that since she frequently transported Bubby and Pi in her vehicle they needed car pillows as well.  Bubby’s fabric was some sort of black-red-gold pattern and Pi’s was a Dora the Explorer print (Pi was DEEP into her Dora phase at that time).  Without realizing it, we had created a monster.   Pi dragged that darn pillow &lt;em&gt;EVERYWHERE&lt;/em&gt;, and hysterics ensued if the pillow was inadvertently left behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over time the pillow cover became worn and filthy – Mrs. Igor had to sneak it away from her to wash it.  I bought more Dora material – but it was wrong, pink background not blue, and would not do.  As the blue Dora disintegrated into shreds, the situation became desperate.  Mrs. Igor located the fabric on-line and was able to order some (the local Walmart no longer had it in stock).  A new cover was made, and disaster was averted – for a time.  Then GrandmaT took Pi shopping and let her pick out 2 or 3 fabrics herself.  Covers were constructed, but they never really satisfied her. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had been churning out pillows all along – Charger pillows for Igor, Bronco pillows for Mrs. Igor, Raider pillows for Mamie (NFL Sundays get &lt;em&gt;very&lt;/em&gt; interesting in the family), various themed pillows for Mamie’s friends, holiday pillows for Mamie and for me, etc.  Pi eventually latched onto one of Mamie’s purple pillows, and that became the pillow that accompanied her everywhere.  Somehow, it almost completely disintegrated; but before it’s last gasp, GrandmaT managed to piece together and stuff a shape about 4 inches by 2 inches. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That worked for a while, and I suspect we all harbored the hope that the days of pillow hugging were finally over.  The last time Pi was over, I noticed that she was clutching one of Igor’s Charger pillows.  So much for that hope.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6392839666626408165?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6392839666626408165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/pis-pillows.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6392839666626408165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6392839666626408165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/pis-pillows.html' title='Pi&apos;s Pillows'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2244011287157186270</id><published>2009-04-16T14:30:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T14:36:45.852-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Health Care Hell</title><content type='html'>This was going to be a simple rant about the $419 we spent on prescription medicines today – and that was after the insurance company paid their pitiful part.  But I find I can’t rant about our current insurance without getting into why we no longer have our previous insurance.  So the back story goes like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A year and half ago or so, I reached the magic age of 65. Hallelujah!  Benevolent Uncle Sam was now going to provide me with Medicare coverage.  For months prior to my birthday, I was inundated with information from a multitude of insurance companies offering all manner of coverage.  Part B, Part D, supplemental, replacement, on and on…  When I tried to get further information about the offerings, I became hopelessly entangled in voice mail hell or disconnected or if I did manage to reach an actual person, told that they didn’t cover our area.  Hellooo – why are you sending me brochures if my area is not covered?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally settled on one company that seemed to be a major provider in this area.  I agreed to allow a representative to come out to the house and pitch their product.  The coverage sounded good and the premiums were reasonable – much better than what GolfGuy was paying through a well-known senior citizen organization.  Forms were signed, hands were shaken, and the coverage would take effect the 1st of the following month, one week from then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early the following morning, GolfGuy had to rush me to the emergency room of the regional medical center in the BigTown.  Subsequently, I was diagnosed with cervical cancer, monstrously high blood pressure, and kidney failure (loss of function in one kidney, reduced function in the other).  The fortunate part of this is that Medicare coverage had taken effect the 1st of THAT month, even though the other coverage wouldn’t kick in for a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new insurance proved to be quite good through all the months of treatments – co-pays were not unbearable and there were no hassles about payment.  GolfGuy signed up with the same company during the open enrollment period.  The drug coverage was exceptionally good – I paid $4 each for my 3 prescriptions at Walmart and GolfGuy got his through a mail order place and paid little or nothing.  The insurance even paid for our memberships at the local health club where we went for Silver Sneakers exercise class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then rumors started flying around the class – the insurance company was going to raise premiums by as much as 400%!  That couldn’t be true – but a phone call to the agent confirmed the bad news.  The reasons being heard were that there were too many cardiology and oncology (heart and cancer) claims in our county.  No brainer – large population of retirees and large population of Downwinders (people adversely affected by the above ground atomic tests by benevolent Uncle Sam in the Nevada desert).  And subsequently, a concentration of medical specialists in those areas – drawing people to the facilities.  What did the insurance company expect when they set up shop here?  However, rates were NOT raised in neighboring counties or throughout the whole state.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thus, we were forced to change insurance companies.  Our agent recommended one that he said was a “good replacement” – this company was looking to take over from the other company.  It’s not nearly as good – particularly the drug coverage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GolfGuy and Dr. Dan have been going around and around with the company, trying to find medications that are effective on GolfGuy’s issues and that they will cover.  The company finally came up with some, and those were the ones we picked up today.  My one prescription was $4; GolfGuy’s 4 prescriptions totaled $415!  At least that’s for a 3 months’ supply, so that brings the cost down to a slightly more reasonable range.  The total cost of our prescriptions for this year after a bit more than 3 months has almost reached the total cost for the whole of 2008!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fear we are locked into this situation until next year when open enrollment rolls around again.  Health care has become a huge national shame, and all the high-sounding talk out of Washington, D.C., is but posturing and hot air from the politicians who don’t have to navigate the hell of health care.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2244011287157186270?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2244011287157186270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/health-care-hell.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2244011287157186270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2244011287157186270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/health-care-hell.html' title='Health Care Hell'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-3360457698453317331</id><published>2009-04-15T12:55:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T12:57:03.151-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, results</title><content type='html'>Wrong again.  So what else is new?  Jackass WAS the one to get the boot.  FINALLY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I must confess – I didn’t bother to watch the results show after about the first 20 minutes.  There is something excruciatingly painful about watching nice guy Tom and dumber-than-dirt Samantha trying to s-t-r-e-t-c-h out the proceedings to fill the hour.  The over-blown, highly dramatic (?) pronouncements of who is “safe” and who is not make me want to yell “Just get on with it!”  Samantha’s colossally stupid questions of the celebrities “backstage” make me cringe in sympathy as they struggle to come up with some reasonable response.  Does she write her own stuff?  I can’t believe professional writers would come up with such garbage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, at least I get to watch CuteCowboy one more time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-3360457698453317331?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/3360457698453317331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-results.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3360457698453317331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3360457698453317331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-results.html' title='DWTS, results'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2731938197555490771</id><published>2009-04-15T11:47:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-15T11:55:25.071-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Snow in April</title><content type='html'>Yep, it is April 15, and it did snow today.  For about 45 minutes, it was coming down pretty good.  Our Silver Sneakers instructor threatened to take us out for a run in it, but decided it might be a tad slippery for her senior students - fortunately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only place it seemed to stick down here in the valley was on the canopy at the Chevron station in the Village center.  But it was a nice wet snow, and we'll take it gladly.  It is so dry here that almost any moisture is more than welcome.  Hopefully, the mountains around us got a good layer of snow - can't tell yet as the clouds are still flying too low.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, the weather gurus in the BigTempleCity tell us our high temperatures will top 85.  Sounds about right for here.  Of course, I didn't really believe them when they showed snow for today - they got it right for once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2731938197555490771?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2731938197555490771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/snow-in-april.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2731938197555490771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2731938197555490771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/snow-in-april.html' title='Snow in April'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6618448617526845362</id><published>2009-04-14T06:01:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T06:09:32.677-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Wk Whatever</title><content type='html'>I knew YummoG could do passionate and intense, but I wondered about more fun and light-hearted.  Wonder no more, he can’t – at least not as well.  It was a good performance, but a bit of a let-down after the previous two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Cheerleader and the GMW better look over their shoulders – that’s the Rapper closing fast, breathing down their necks and set to race on by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT tried so hard, but even a session with Warren Sapp couldn't turn surly into fun.  LT could have the moves if only he could lose the football attitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to get serious about culling the herd.  I think CuteCowboy will be next to go – the hordes of brain-damaged adolescents will probably keep Jackass on for a couple of more weeks, in spite of the judges' best efforts to get rid of him.  The CWSinger will also be one of the culls shortly.  I’ve been wrong most weeks about who will go, so we’ll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6618448617526845362?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6618448617526845362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-wk-whatever.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6618448617526845362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6618448617526845362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-wk-whatever.html' title='DWTS, Wk Whatever'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-3841278856659280747</id><published>2009-04-13T16:58:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-13T17:03:43.484-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Poor Snickers</title><content type='html'>Poor Snickers.  He’s in deep doo-doo with The Family – and he doesn’t even realize it.  Maybe that’s for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everyone was over for Easter dinner last evening, and I was in the kitchen finishing up when I heard a big ruckus in the living room.  Igor yelled, “Damn cat – you’re lucky I didn’t drop kick you into the wall over there!”  By the time I got there, Snickers was so stressed out from all the noise and yelling that he hissed at me when I approached and appeared ready to attack.  It took a long time, but I finally got him talked down enough that he let me pick him and carry him into the bedroom out of harm’s way (Snickers, that is, not Igor – who is way too big for me to carry).  I closed the door and told him he would have to stay there until everyone left – Pudge, of course, had bee-lined for either under the bed or the closet shelf as soon as the first scary outsider came through the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turns out that for some reason, Snickers had felt threatened when Igor walked by him to put something on the table.   Snickers slashed out, claws at the ready, and left some very ouchy scratches on Igor’s leg – right through his jeans.  Cat scratches burn like the dickens, so I understand why Igor reacted so strongly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As is our habit, GolfGuy and I walked out to the drive with them when everyone left later on.  Mamie and GrandmaT were the last to leave, so we headed back inside when they rolled down the street towards home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got inside, Snickers was coming down the hall, aiming for the front door; Pudge was still in the bedroom, peering around the door that was now open about 8 inches – plenty of room for a cat to get through.  A quick check with GolfGuy and the departed family showed that none of them had opened the door.  Had to have been Pudge.  Our interior doors have lever handles and she has gotten quite adept at opening doors that swing AWAY from her.  She has been working to perfect her technique on doors that swing TOWARD her, as the bedroom door does from the room side.  I’d say she has it down pat – I frequently find the front closet door and/or pantry door open in the morning; and I know for darn sure that neither GolfGuy nor I have been opening doors while sleepwalking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’re fortunate that Igor was the object of Snicker’s wrath and not Pi, who has been the usual target in the past – earning him banishment from family gatherings on many occasions.  Snickers has never forgiven Pi for coming over here with Aunt Mamie when she used to bring her dog as well; nor has he forgotten that she used to basically chase him and try to squeeze him, as toddlers are wont to do.  He was called “Mean Meow” for a long time by her.  Cats have long memories, so we’re told by the vet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Snickers – he’s getting on in years and doesn’t handle noise, confusion, and invasion of his territory by hordes of noisy people very well.  Family gatherings here will now be time-outs for Snickers, behind the closed bedroom door.  Hopefully, Pudge won’t spring him until people are gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-3841278856659280747?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/3841278856659280747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/poor-snickers.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3841278856659280747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3841278856659280747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/poor-snickers.html' title='Poor Snickers'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-8538629936851928820</id><published>2009-04-10T08:38:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T08:46:17.183-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Now I am ticked off!</title><content type='html'>The following, a direct quote from the local Daily Disappointment, is a PRIME example of #7 on my TTT list of Things That Bug Me About Our Little Corner of the World.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     "A dazzling display of quilts and fiber arts awaits visitors to the Dixie Quilt Guild Show, Festival of Fabric Arts, April 10 and 11.&lt;br /&gt;     There is an array of quilts and a lecture by a NQA judge.  There will also be a merchant's mall, boutique of hand-made items and gift baskets and special exhibits by our featured artists.  Bring your quilts to be appraised."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just me or did YOU see any mention of just where this dazzling display will be held?  I &lt;em&gt;might&lt;/em&gt; have had some interest in attending, but evidently the paper doesn't think anyone should go who doesn't already know where to go.  Guess I'm not one of annointed ones.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-8538629936851928820?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/8538629936851928820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/now-i-am-ticked-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8538629936851928820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8538629936851928820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/now-i-am-ticked-off.html' title='Now I am ticked off!'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-484171427429028832</id><published>2009-04-10T06:18:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-10T06:24:14.723-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Snarky - not yet</title><content type='html'>The past few days, I have felt crummy – not cruddy or crappy, just crummy.  Not bad enough to call in sick, but not good enough to do anything but mope around, feeling sorry for myself.  I’m grumpy and close to out-grouching my cat, Snickers, but I’m not really snarky – not yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven’t felt like writing – don’t want to try to be creative, witty, clever, wise, informative or anything positive.  Negative is where I am.  Besides, is anyone actually reading this drivel?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t like any of the books I’ve been reading – too intense and I know that the hero/heroine is about to get in big time trouble if they go through with whatever ill-advised things they are planning (which they will do no matter what) and I don’t feel like struggling through their troubles with them.  I bought a couple of basically fluff books during our newWalmart trip yesterday, finished one, and will probably take care of the other today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My latest Kleenex Cozy project has been tossed aside – don’t like the color of yarn I started to use, doesn’t work with the other shades of pink, so now I have to take out what’s been done with it and dig through my piles and piles of yarn to find a color I’m happier with.  Crap!  And I really wanted to have it done by Monday when I do the switch out of Easter stuff with the more generic spring stuff.  Crap and double crap!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer games aren’t doing their job – which is to provide relaxation and to refresh my mind.  Particularly the HOGs (Hidden Object Games), of which I seem to have 17 on my computer (I just counted).  Takes too much concentration, so I dump out of them almost immediately, and go back to Spider Solitaire, Slide Tiles, and Bejeweled.  But I’ve played them so much over the years that I am getting REALLY bored with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if I did something wonderful like cleaning the house or sorting out drawers and closets, I would have such a feeling of accomplishment that I would snap out of this funk.  Nah!  Not going to happen!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I’ve been whining relentlessly, but I don’t care.  I’m not allowed to whine in real life, so I’m doing it here.  IT’S MY BLOG AND I’LL WHINE IF I WANT TO!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-484171427429028832?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/484171427429028832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/snarky-not-yet.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/484171427429028832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/484171427429028832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/snarky-not-yet.html' title='Snarky - not yet'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4834643643824682540</id><published>2009-04-07T06:51:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T07:03:56.296-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TTT'/><title type='text'>TTT - Kitchen Tips</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, when I should have been working on a REAL TTT list, I got side-tracked by my daily email from Tipnut (&lt;a href="http://tipnut.com/"&gt;http://tipnut.com&lt;/a&gt;).  One of the items looked interesting, so I clicked on it, which then had 2 or 3 more links, each of which also had more links…  I not only found myself going from site to site to site, but copying and pasting tidbits I wanted to remember to a Word document.  After about an hour and a half of clicking, copying, and pasting, I had a list of 25 items I had extracted.  Here are 10 of them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ten Kitchen Tips from Tipnut -&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;French toast is made crisper by adding a tablespoon of flour to the egg and milk mixture.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Oooh! I can’t wait to try this; I LOVE crispy French toast!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Popcorn should always be kept in the freezer. Not only will it stay fresh, but freezing helps eliminate “old maids”.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;We keep ours in the ‘fridge – seems to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Measurements:&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;Mamie this is for you, particularly the yeast part&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;a.       1 cup of whipping cream = 2 cups whipped&lt;br /&gt;b.      1 cup uncooked rice = 3 1/2 cups cooked&lt;br /&gt;c.       1 pkg. yeast = 2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Whenever boiling potatoes, it seemed that the pot always boiled over no matter how we tried to prevent it . . . until discovering this simple tip: simply put a little slice of butter into the pot!&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;Hope this works – wonder if it also works for rice?  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Use a steamer basket to cook potatoes for mashing (instead of boiling them). The flavor is MUCH better, and you never have to worry about your potatoes being watery.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;Now THIS would be a way to prevent the dreaded boilovers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prepare your mashed potatoes an hour or two before serving the meal and store them in the slow cooker (on low heat). Serve with the rest of the meal and they’re still hot and tasty.&lt;/strong&gt;   &lt;em&gt;How great for Thanksgiving, Christmas, etc. when the stove is extra busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Use a pizza cutter to quickly slice everything from pizzas, fudge, pancakes, French toast, chicken strips and more. If you have small kids, this is a great time saver when cutting up food! &lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Mamie uses a fork to poke vent holes in hot corn dogs to get them down to kid temperature!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When you buy a container of cake frosting from the store, whip it with your mixer for a few minutes. You can double it in size and frost more cake/cupcakes with the same amount.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;Doesn’t this kind of negate the whole convenience thing of canned frosting?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Use spices and herbs sparingly when preparing dishes for freezing. Cloves, black pepper and garlic become stronger; onions lose flavor; nutmeg, cinnamon and sage remain about the same; celery flavor becomes more noticeable.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;Mamie and Mrs. Igor, pay attention to this when you do your big cookathon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Use a small funnel for separating eggs.&lt;/strong&gt;  &lt;em&gt;Cracking/separating eggs is one of many activities that I do not excel in, maybe this will help with some of that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;The rest of the hints next week – got to make this last you know!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4834643643824682540?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4834643643824682540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/ttt-kitchen-tips.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4834643643824682540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4834643643824682540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/ttt-kitchen-tips.html' title='TTT - Kitchen Tips'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4406916944185491209</id><published>2009-04-06T08:46:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T08:52:17.928-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GolfGuy'/><title type='text'>Return of the Shopping Cart</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Last Thursday, before the unfortunate restaurant karma experience, GolfGuy and I did our weekly Walmart shopping.  As we were unloading our shopping cart into the car, I noticed a young woman several cars down from us unloading her cart.  I mentioned some time ago that the cart returns at new Walmart are few and far between, so I thought I would do a good deed and offer to return her cart as I was returning ours.  Because she had a young child with her, I thought it would be helpful for me to take her cart also.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;As I approached her, she spoke up and said “I’ll take &lt;em&gt;your&lt;/em&gt; cart back for you.”  I explained that I was about to offer to do the same thing for her; and she replied, “Oh, my 5 year old will do it.  He loves doing it!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I told GolfGuy about the exchange when I got in the car; and as we were leaving, he pulled up next to her, rolled down the window and told her, “I was going to have my 66 year old return the cart, but your 5 year old did it instead!  Thanks.”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4406916944185491209?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4406916944185491209/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/return-of-shopping-cart.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4406916944185491209'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4406916944185491209'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/return-of-shopping-cart.html' title='Return of the Shopping Cart'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7443935429078205654</id><published>2009-04-04T05:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-04T05:47:17.613-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Mamie's Birthday</title><content type='html'>Thursday was Mamie’s birthday – I won’t reveal her age because I don’t know how she feels about that.  It was also my brother’s (GoodGuy) 62nd birthday – I can say his age with impunity as not only is he on the other side of the country but he’s a guy and guys don’t care about stuff like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had our requisite family birthday dinner on Friday.  The birthday person gets to dictate the menu.  Mamie chose green salad, teriyaki London broil cooked on the grill by GolfGuy and sliced thin, BIG baked potatoes (no dinky ones from the 5 and 10 lb. prepackaged grocery store bags), green beans with bacon (because I insisted on  a REAL vegetable), and Peaches ‘N Cream Cake.  Good choices all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one of our Walmart trips, I spotted some “giant bubble wands” in various colors.  Because she is the birthday girl and is **-going-on-11, I selected a purple one for her – purple being her favorite color.  I briefly pondered purchasing 2 additional ones for Bubby and Pi, but decided against it.  They are old enough to accept the fact that it IS the birthday person who gets the gifts – and if they don’t accept that, it’s time they learned.  But on a subsequent Walmart trip, I came across little paddle ball toys in the party favor aisle and since there were 4 in a package, 2 packages for the 8 of us went into the cart. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As mentioned yesterday, GolfGuy was doing poorly indeed.  He did manage to get the grill lit and the meat on before retreating once again to his sick bed.  Igor tended the meat and did the slicing honors, which he did very well.  The food was all very good, and those of us who were able to eat stuffed ourselves liberally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the biggest treats was that Mrs. Igor was in attendance.  Her work schedule has been such that for many months now she has been unable to join us when we have family dinners.  She has been sorely missed, and we need to find a way to schedule these get-togethers so she can be a part of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been dancing around the fact that I have a daughter who has reached this advanced age, an important decade mark in life.  On one hand, I feel great joy about the wonderful person she has become.  On the other hand, I wonder how on earth I could have a child that old – and who the hell is that old bag looking back at me in the mirror every morning?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7443935429078205654?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7443935429078205654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/mamies-birthday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7443935429078205654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7443935429078205654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/mamies-birthday.html' title='Mamie&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2576695038497167849</id><published>2009-04-03T10:56:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T11:00:01.970-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GolfGuy'/><title type='text'>Restaurant Karma</title><content type='html'>GolfGuy and I just do not have good restaurant karma.  Seems like we always find the worst places to eat, have the worst meals, and get the worst service.  I don’t understand it – we’re basically nice people, look presentable, and usually tip more than the minimum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, yesterday GolfGuy needed to go to the Village center to get some thingie for his new computer and he suggested that I go along and then we could go to the new Chinese buffet in town.  You know me, always up for NOT fixing lunch at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Of course&lt;/em&gt;, it was &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; a good restaurant experience.  The food was tasteless and the various chunks of chicken were tough – the so-called teriyaki chicken should have been labeled “old shoe leather.”  The sweet and sour chicken came with a gelatinous red goo that oozed over everything on the plate and crept up my fork to spread onto my hand.  The list of horrors continues – but the absolute worst part was that NOTHING on the steam tables approached being warm!  Hello trouble!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today GolfGuy is doing poorly – with all the classic symptoms of food poisoning.  We had basically the same things – except he had noodles rather than rice and some beef stuff &lt;em&gt;AND&lt;/em&gt; sushi, #1 candidate for culprit of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Usually in instances like this, I react quickly and violently to the slightest hint of food being “off.”  So far I seem to be okay, which is a good thing as the family birthday dinner for Mamie is scheduled for this evening.  Hopefully GolfGuy will be sufficiently recovered so that he can man the grill, even if he can’t eat or join in the festivities such as they are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2576695038497167849?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2576695038497167849/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/restaurant-karma.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2576695038497167849'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2576695038497167849'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/restaurant-karma.html' title='Restaurant Karma'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2157043849817418758</id><published>2009-04-02T05:29:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-02T05:36:23.226-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Recycling Revisited</title><content type='html'>OK, I lied.  I’m not done grousing.  Number 8 on the TTT list of things that bug me about this area concerned recycling.  I have just a little bit more to say on that subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A fledgling recycling effort is struggling to get off the ground in our county.  Somehow this small group has managed to persuade the county fathers to institute a program strategically locating community recycling receptacles around the county.  These receptacles are large and yellow.  They are called &lt;strong&gt;BINNIES&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Binnies.  What the hell kind of name is that?  Binnies sounds like something a snotty-nosed toddler has plugged into its mouth or a dirty rag being dragged around by that toddler.  Oh wait… that’s &lt;em&gt;Binkies&lt;/em&gt; and &lt;em&gt;Blankies&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At each site there are separate Binnies for plastic, cans, paper, etc.  So far, so good.  But the geniuses who designed – and/or named – the Binnies not-so-thoughtfully included LETTER-SLOT sized openings.  Thus, bottles and cans have to be individually deposited, and about one day’s worth of newspapers can be put in at time.  Not real conducive to encouraging participation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well, it has been said that a thousand mile journey begins with one small step.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2157043849817418758?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2157043849817418758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/recycling-revisited.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2157043849817418758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2157043849817418758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/recycling-revisited.html' title='Recycling Revisited'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-974425191143774362</id><published>2009-04-01T13:24:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T13:28:29.352-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Wk 4</title><content type='html'>Talk about Shock and Awe!!!  I am still in total awe over YummyG’s terrifically tantalizing tango!  He should have gotten bonus points for Beyond Perfection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;strong&gt;AM&lt;/strong&gt; shocked, tho, by the harsh judgments heaped on poor Woz by the judges.  Cloris was just as bad last season, and they were not nearly as cruel in their criticisms of her.  He really didn’t deserve such treatment, even bad as he was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BlondBunnyBimbo managed to whine her way right off the show.  There &lt;strong&gt;IS&lt;/strong&gt; a god.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree with the judges on GoldMedalGymnast – too much flipping and not enough dancing.  I bet she wasn’t that chunky when she was competing in the Olympics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Rapper did an outstanding job on her tango and is closing on third place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The competition has made the first turn and is headed down the backstretch.  I am looking forward to an outstanding race.  But can YummyG &lt;em&gt;possibly&lt;/em&gt; get any better?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-974425191143774362?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/974425191143774362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-wk-4.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/974425191143774362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/974425191143774362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/04/dwts-wk-4.html' title='DWTS, Wk 4'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2013987576037097903</id><published>2009-03-31T09:27:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T09:39:59.322-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>TTT - The Other Side of the Coin</title><content type='html'>Last week, I listed what I like about our little corner of the world.  This week, it is the other side of the coin.  Fair and balanced, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ten Things That Bug Me About Our Little Corner of the World –&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1.  Drivers -&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The drivers here really leave us shaking our heads.  They drive like they are trying to set land speed records at Bonneville Salt Flats – interstates, highways, surface streets all are race tracks for them.  Then there are the slow drivers who plod along in the LEFT lane and won’t move over come hell or high water.  Mommies and Daddies speed along, yakking on cell phones, and either yelling at or ignoring the seething mass of unrestrained children careening around in their over-sized SUVs.  Mommy and Daddy don’t bother with seat belts either  – infringes on their personal rights.  The local media are filled with sob stories about people thrown from their vehicles during accidents and killed or severely injured – a fund has been established at a nearby bank for donations to the family.  Not from me.  &lt;strong&gt;PUT ON THE DAMN BELT!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2.  Children –&lt;/strong&gt;They have lots of kids per family – it seems to be a requirement here.  But do they have to take them EVERYWHERE?  Children do not belong in the bar areas of restaurants (more on that in #3).  Nor should they attend evening adult-type concerts or R movies – I don’t care if they are with their parents.  All too often, their loving parents are too busy visiting with each other and friends to exert any control over them.  Heaven help us if the mob from one family joins forces with other roving mobs.  Aren’t they all “just darling” and “too cute”?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.  Liquor Laws – &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The laws regarding the purchase and/or consumption of alcoholic beverages in this state are too insane to be believed.  Should children happen to spy a drink being mixed and poured at the bar of a restaurant (see #2), they could be warped for life.   So, restaurants are required to erect an expensive visual barrier around the mixing/pouring operations to prevent this from happening.  Bottles of liquor and wine can ONLY be purchased at state owned stores – which charge 3 times the market price and add on punitive taxes to boot (but it “helps fund schools”).    Some changes have just been recently enacted by the legislature, but I’m not sure if they are an improvement or not.  There’s more, but I still don’t understand all the liquor laws; and I’m sure the esteemed legislators have no clue either.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.  Huge houses –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is truly the land of McMansions (to shelter all those children).  Enormous houses on small lots, frequently under furnished.  And recently, over-leveraged and risking foreclosure, if not already there.  The heating and cooling bills on our modest abode are bad enough; what must they run for those behemoths?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.  Wind –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It blows – not 24/7, but close enough.  And when the wind is strong enough in the Village to carry away small animals, it often is dead calm in the BigTown.  Something about how our Village sits in its valley funnels gale-force winds through our environs.  I swear the snow grains we saw last week  actually had made the 300 mile trip down from the BigTempleCity to the north.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.  Phone books –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Way too many yellow page books appear on our front porch.  And not one of them has a complete listing on any service or type of store or is arranged in any discernible order.  The best use I have found for them so far is as a booster seat for Pi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.  Lack of public information –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Information about upcoming events is hard to come by.  Forget seeing advance notice of events in the local rag.  The assumption appears to be that everyone already knows about such things.  Even stores frequently don’t include their address or location in their ads – the most they say might be “on the Boulevard” or some similar non-informative phrase.  I guess if you need to know about something, you already know; and if you don’t need to know, you aren’t going to know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.  Recycling –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the most part, it doesn’t happen here.  Many people are not just indifferent to the concept, they are vocally and aggressively hostile to it.  Those of us who have lived in other states accept and embrace recycling – including curbside pickup and other forms of reusing our trash and saving landfill space.  People here just come unglued at the suggestion of such things and accuse supporters of trying to “make money off us.”  Strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.  Lack of  good produce –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lived in Southern California for so many years that we took the availability and affordability of good produce as a given.  Not so here.  It is expensive and bad.  Costco has the best produce around, but GolfGuy and I have trouble getting through crates of oranges and 5 lb. bags of salad, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.  “Oh my heck!” –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This commonly used euphemism for an expletive just GRATES on me.  I have even heard news anchors in the BigTempleCity use it on air.  The constant use of “darling” and “cute” to describe anything and everything bugs me greatly.  I am 66 years old – I am &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; cute or darling – and I don’t like to be referred to in those terms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family, blue skies and red rocks and other things (see last week’s TTT posting) compensate for these minor grievances.  So no more grousing – at least for now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2013987576037097903?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2013987576037097903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/ttt-other-side-of-coin.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2013987576037097903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2013987576037097903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/ttt-other-side-of-coin.html' title='TTT - The Other Side of the Coin'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6762250424338992667</id><published>2009-03-31T06:02:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-31T06:08:02.566-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Another day, another hole?</title><content type='html'>Nope, not yet.  My hole digging crew was supposed to show up last evening – just as they were on Sunday evening – to dig a hole for the luscious pink jasmine I had to buy at Costco on Friday.  As soon as we walked in the door, the alluring aroma grabbed me by the nose and dragged me to the back of the warehouse where a whole gaggle of gorgeous jasmine were waiting to jump into carts and turn bystanders heads as they paraded throughout the store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, the wind has been &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;HOWLING &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;for days and days, making outside work beyond uncomfortable.  There have been a few days here and there when it calmed down, but then it would pick right back up and have another go at us.  Sunday evening, the portable basketball goal that lives by the side of the Igor family driveway did a full face plant across the drive.  Fortunately at the time, their &lt;strong&gt;F&lt;/strong&gt;ix &lt;strong&gt;O&lt;/strong&gt;r &lt;strong&gt;R&lt;/strong&gt;epair &lt;strong&gt;D&lt;/strong&gt;aily van was shivering in Mamie’s drive while the family was inside eating dinner.  Otherwise, the sad van would have had a very large crease in its head to go along with its other woes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully today the wind will go down and the temperature up, and the hole will get dug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6762250424338992667?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6762250424338992667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-day-another-hole.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6762250424338992667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6762250424338992667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-day-another-hole.html' title='Another day, another hole?'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-3118652171271640236</id><published>2009-03-28T10:43:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T11:16:18.780-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Changes'/><title type='text'>Cool Thing</title><content type='html'>I just discovered a very cool option available for blogs.  You will now see an envelope with an arrow on it at the bottom of each of my posts.  Clicking on it brings up a form that you fill out and that particular blog post will be automatically emailed to your friend(s).  Very cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I finally figured out where to adjust the time stamp so now that god-awful time of 4:34 am won't show up - it will be the slightly better time of 5:34 am or whatever.  After all, I am on Mountain time, not Pacific.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-3118652171271640236?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/3118652171271640236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/cool-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3118652171271640236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3118652171271640236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/cool-thing.html' title='Cool Thing'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7883984539034238941</id><published>2009-03-28T09:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T09:11:59.579-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Broken Beagle</title><content type='html'>Mamie’s Beagle is broken.  Not permanently – at least not this time around.  But seriously enough that it necessitated an emergency run to the vet by Mamie, Beagle in arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning, my cell phone made the noise that announces that Mamie is calling.  “Obviously you’re not at home!”  “Nope, just got to Costco.  What’s up?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The story was that she had just gotten a call from GrandmaT saying that Scout had been out back and done something to his back again and was dragging his hind legs.  Of course, Desert Vet was not in his office that day, but they did refer her to a vet in the BigTown.  Mamie was on her way to the Village from her office in the BigTown to get Scout and return to the BigTown with him; and she wanted her Mom to go with her to the vet.  Unfortunately, I was not available at the moment, so she had to go alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has had this disc problem before, and there will be more occurrences until at some point surgery will be required.  We’ll cross that bridge when it’s necessary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Scout is doing much better today – although still gimping and moaning at times.  He is very good about taking his pills – as long as cheese is involved.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7883984539034238941?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7883984539034238941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/broken-beagle.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7883984539034238941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7883984539034238941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/broken-beagle.html' title='Broken Beagle'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7901099536360945943</id><published>2009-03-28T05:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T05:38:19.193-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>First Lady Fashion</title><content type='html'>I feel compelled to put in my 2 cents worth on an issue that has been nagging at me since the inauguration in January of the new president.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The current first lady may have nicely toned arms, but her penchant for sporting sleeveless dresses in the dead of a Washington, D.C., winter is more than a bit disconcerting.  As out of place as wearing white shoes before Memorial Day or after Labor Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The  most current former first lady needs to put on a pretty shell or blouse and leave the suit jackets unbuttoned.  She looks much too up-tight and closed-in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Barbara dresses age and appearance appropriately, but really not cutting edge.  Hillary just manages the dreaded unflattering look.  Roslyn was plain forgettable, in more ways than one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What  happened to the grace and elegance and &lt;em&gt;STYLE&lt;/em&gt; of Jackie and Nancy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fully realized that this fashion critique comes from a woman whose wardrobe consists basically of jeans and tees.  Well, hey, most drama critics can’t act either.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7901099536360945943?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7901099536360945943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/first-lady-fashion.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7901099536360945943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7901099536360945943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/first-lady-fashion.html' title='First Lady Fashion'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1354575872945708054</id><published>2009-03-27T18:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T18:37:38.399-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Fun Finds'/><title type='text'>Winter Classes for Men</title><content type='html'>GolfGuy received this as an email from one of his golf buddies.  Thought it was worth sharing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Winter Classes for Men at &lt;br /&gt;THE ADULT LEARNING CENTRE &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;NOTE: DUE TO THE COMPLEXITY AND DIFFICULTY LEVEL &lt;br /&gt;OF THEIR CONTENTS, CLASS SIZES WILL BE LIMITED TO 8 PARTICIPANTS MAXIMUM &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 1 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How To Fill Up The Ice Cube Trays--Step by Step, with Slide Presentation. &lt;br /&gt;Meets 4 weeks, Monday and Wednesday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 2&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;The Toilet Paper Roll--Does It Change Itself? &lt;br /&gt;Round Table Discussion. &lt;br /&gt;Meets 2 weeks, Saturday 12:00 for 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 3&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Is It Possible To Urinate Using The Technique Of Lifting The Seat and Avoiding The Floor, Walls and Nearby Bathtub?--Group Practice. &lt;br /&gt;Meets 4 weeks, Saturday 10:00 PM for 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 4 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fundamental Differences Between The Laundry Hamper and The Floor--Pictures and Explanatory Graphics. &lt;br /&gt;Meets Saturdays at 2:00 PM for 3 weeks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 5&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Dinner Dishes--Can They Levitate and Fly Into The Kitchen Sink? &lt;br /&gt;Examples on Video. &lt;br /&gt;Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning &lt;br /&gt;at 7:00 PM &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 6&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Loss Of Identity--Losing The Remote To Your Significant Other. &lt;br /&gt;Help Line Support and Support Groups. &lt;br /&gt;Meets 4 Weeks, Friday and Sunday 7:00 PM &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 7&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Learning How To Find Things--Starting With Looking In The Right Places And Not Turning The House Upside Down While Screaming. &lt;br /&gt;Open Forum &lt;br /&gt;Monday at 8:00 PM , 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 8&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Health Watch--Bringing Her Flowers Is Not Harmful To Your Health. &lt;br /&gt;Graphics and Audio Tapes. &lt;br /&gt;Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 9 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real Men Ask For Directions When Lost--Real Life Testimonials.. &lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays at 6:00 PM Location to be determined &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 10 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is It Genetically Impossible To Sit Quietly While She Parallel Parks? &lt;br /&gt;Driving Simulations. &lt;br /&gt;4 weeks, Saturday's noon, 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 11 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Learning to Live--Basic Differences Between Mother and Wife. &lt;br /&gt;Online Classes and role-playing &lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays at 7:00 PM , location to be determined &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 12 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to be the Ideal Shopping Companion &lt;br /&gt;Relaxation Exercises, Meditation and Breathing Techniques. &lt;br /&gt;Meets 4 weeks, Tuesday and Thursday for 2 hours beginning at 7:00 PM  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 13 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How to Fight Cerebral Atrophy--Remembering Birthdays, Anniversaries and Other Important Dates and Calling When You're Going To Be Late. &lt;br /&gt;Cerebral Shock Therapy Sessions and Full Lobotomies Offered. &lt;br /&gt;Three nights; Monday, Wednesday, Friday at 7:00 PM for 2 hours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Class 14 &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Stove/Oven--What It Is and How It Is Used. &lt;br /&gt;Live Demonstration. &lt;br /&gt;Tuesdays at 6:00 PM , location to be determined. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon completion of any of the above courses, diplomas will be issued to the survivors. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send this to all the guys that you think can stand the heat, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and to all the ladies for the best chuckle of their day!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1354575872945708054?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1354575872945708054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/winter-classes-for-men.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1354575872945708054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1354575872945708054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/winter-classes-for-men.html' title='Winter Classes for Men'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4664110084770530924</id><published>2009-03-27T13:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T14:03:49.181-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Printer Purchase</title><content type='html'>I am of two minds regarding the recent purchase of a printer from Costco.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one hand, I am pleased that I was able to buy just what I wanted for only $108 using a coupon from the latest Costco coupon book.  It prints, copies and scans – exactly what I need.  I do not need a gazllion ppm or a gazillion dpi’s.  I simply need a good, reliable printer that does what I want, when I want, and without a lot of backtalk.  I am a happy camper on that point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, I am aghast that I just spent $130 (after using another coupon) on replacement ink cartridges for my $108 printer.  Of course I know that the manufacturers really have you by the short hairs when it comes to printer consumables – that is where the money is made after all.  But the realty does hit hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, as I pointed out to GolfGuy, I could have spent $200 or $250 or more on a printer and &lt;em&gt;still &lt;/em&gt;paid $130+ for ink.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4664110084770530924?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4664110084770530924/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/printer-purchase.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4664110084770530924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4664110084770530924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/printer-purchase.html' title='Printer Purchase'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2783953328756039788</id><published>2009-03-27T13:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T13:23:20.011-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Pizza Joy</title><content type='html'>Oh joy!  We discovered that the food court at our Costco which has been closed for several weeks for re-modeling and was not scheduled to re-open until the end of the month was back in business today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our routine has been that when we enter Costco, GolfGuy splits off to the food court to purchase cold, delicious fountain Diet Cokes for us to sip while we wander (and refill before exiting for the trip home).  Meanwhile, I head for the book department to see if they have possibly put out any new and interesting paperbacks – can’t afford hardbacks - that we haven’t already purchased.  Eventually GolfGuy joins me, and we continue our shopping while enjoying the cold, delicious, fountain Diet Cokes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Diet Coke deprivation was serious, but there is yet more to this tale of woe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every few weeks, GolfGuy also orders 3 whole large pepperoni pizzas from the food court for us to pick up on our way out.  Once home, I divvy the pizzas up into Ziploc bags – 2 slices per bag – and stash them in the freezer.  Then when the pizza-bug hits or we need a quick lunch, we turn the oven on to 350, retrieve 2 bags from the freezer, put the slices on a cookie sheet and shove the whole thing into the oven for 15 minutes.  Pure taste bliss!  Much better than any delivery or take-out pizza or frozen cardboard from the grocery store – and absolutely the best price.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, when the food court shut down, albeit temporarily, we were not prepared.  Our freezer stash became completely depleted, and we were pizza-less for a period of time.  We do realize that Costco has take and bake versions available in the deli area; but they are &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; the same, and we are hopelessly stuck on the food court pizzas.  Thank goodness we were able to replenish our supply today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rotisserie chicken production area has also been closed for remodeling during this time.  While we miss the chicken, it is not a necessity like the pizza.  We made do with a roasted chicken from the local grocery the other evening.  It was convenient and filled an immediate need,  but it certainly wasn’t on a par with a Costco rotisserie chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was bagging up today’s haul, I held back 4 slices for today’s lunch.  Pizza-joy is once again with us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2783953328756039788?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2783953328756039788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/pizza-joy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2783953328756039788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2783953328756039788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/pizza-joy.html' title='Pizza Joy'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7863416747857314844</id><published>2009-03-26T17:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T17:19:38.131-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Funny Memory</title><content type='html'>Today as we entered the on-ramp after visiting the home improvement store (boooring), GolfGuy and I spotted a hitchhiker by the side of the road.  A sight so rarely seen here that we commented on it.  GolfGuy remarked that at least he was on the right ramp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That made us remember when we were staying at an RV park in Oregon for an extended period and for &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;TWO&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; days a young, slightly disheveled couple stood at the bottom of the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;OFF&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; ramp at our exit from I-5, thumbs stuck out.  Each time we saw them, we commented “They really should be over on the &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;ON&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; ramp if they seriously expect to get a ride” and laughed heartily.  Finally, on the third day they moved over to the on ramp and were soon on their way.  Some kind soul, not us, must have suggested the move to them because it obviously had not occurred to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today’s sighting and shared memory once again caused us to chuckle and shake our heads about some people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7863416747857314844?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7863416747857314844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/funny-memory.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7863416747857314844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7863416747857314844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/funny-memory.html' title='Funny Memory'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7931284374931500337</id><published>2009-03-25T08:42:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T08:48:16.375-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Wk 3 results</title><content type='html'>Wow!  Was I ever wrong!  Jackass and Woz didn't even make the bottom 2.  Shows what that vast mass of male adolescents with the quick thumbs on the cell phone can do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course, Denise had to go sometime soon, but I really thought Blond Bunny Bimbo would be the one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next week, 2 "stars" get booted.  Hopefully, they include any 2 of the 3 - Jackass, Woz or BBB.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7931284374931500337?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7931284374931500337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-3-results.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7931284374931500337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7931284374931500337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-3-results.html' title='DWTS, Wk 3 results'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4410527826146832762</id><published>2009-03-24T13:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T13:27:28.558-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><title type='text'>Planting Bushes As A Family Activity</title><content type='html'>Last evening, Mamie, Igor, Bubby and Pi came over to dig holes and plant the 2 mock orange bushes I had purchased on the last nursery run with Mamie.  Neither GolfGuy nor I are in the physical shape needed to deal with our rocks and hard ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Igor dug.  Mamie de-potted and situated.  Bubby and Pi mixed dirt and compost and filled in the holes.  GolfGuy and I supervised.  All went well until the last little bit of watering when Bubby and Pi nearly came to blows over manning the nozzle.  Mamie took charge in her best teacher voice and manner and soon had the situation well in hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There ARE advantages to playing the old and decrepit card on occasion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4410527826146832762?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4410527826146832762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/planting-bushes-as-family-activity.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4410527826146832762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4410527826146832762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/planting-bushes-as-family-activity.html' title='Planting Bushes As A Family Activity'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2792727945028308585</id><published>2009-03-24T08:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T09:05:27.847-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Wk 3</title><content type='html'>Some quick thoughts on last night's offerings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackass &amp; Woz - both deserve the boot tonight; I'm not picky which one gets it first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BBB - she's pushing Jackass &amp; Woz for worst performer, but biggest whinner trophy is hers alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cute Cowboy - vastly improved; looked great in dress clothes (cleans up nicely), but probably just as good in bull-busting duds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LT - finally showed some moves; not yet up to level of previous NFL participants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yummo G, Melissa (Cheerleader), and GMW - holding steady in win, place and show positions.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2792727945028308585?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2792727945028308585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-3.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2792727945028308585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2792727945028308585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-3.html' title='DWTS, Wk 3'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6573647551513775719</id><published>2009-03-24T06:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T06:30:26.586-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='TTT'/><title type='text'>Ten Things Tuesday, My Edition</title><content type='html'>Mrs. Chili of The Blue Door, http://theinnerdoor.wordpress.com/, seems to have started the Ten Things Tuesday lists.  Thinking it a splendid idea – a useful filler when the creative well runs dry – I am joining in.  So here goes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ten Things I Like About Our Little Corner of the World&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Family –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful to be able to spend this time with my children and their families.  As I mentioned before, Mamie and Igor have both matured into wonderful people – but the silly sibling squabbles they still indulge in (purposely, I suspect) give me a special, secret pleasure.  It has been deeply satisfying to be involved with my grandkids.  They are, naturally, the cutest things around.  Bubby is your basic All-American boy, right down to the dusting of freckles across his nose; he is easy-going and laid back.  Pi is 5 going on 20, a true in-your-face diva, and totally fearless.  Mrs. Igor, Grandma T, MamiesMan, the many and various pets  – along with friends  - add greatly to the richness of our life here.  First and foremost, of course, is GolfGuy – without his agreement to move here, who knows where I would be.  Thank you each and every one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2. Blue skies and red rocks and gray rocks and yellow rocks, brown, black, all colors of rocks  -&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The visual goodies are many and varied.  I have 2 favorites, currently, that I watch for on the trip back from the BigTown.  One is to the west of I-15 just before our exit (Mamie likes it that &lt;strong&gt;HER&lt;/strong&gt; exit points the way to Zion and Grand Canyon National parks and Lake Powell) – it is a grouping of roundy mounds of red rock, pocked with intriguing holes, all very giggly-looking.  The other comes into view as the state highway begins the long downhill slide past Purgatory – makes me think of giant ocean waves forever frozen in mid-roll.  The play of light on the various formations constantly shifts and changes as the seasons progress and the sun moves across the sky, highlighting something new every time and every direction I look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;3.  The cleanliness and lack of graffiti –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rarely do we see trash on the streets and highways and even more rarely does graffiti rear its ugly head.  A trip south to SinCity is a stark reminder of what we don’t have to put up with.  But it &lt;em&gt;will&lt;/em&gt; come – the locals don’t realize it yet, but when the economy begins to pick up steam and the in-migration to the area explodes anew, these unhappy problems of population growth will deeply affect all of our quality of life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;4.  The availability and quality of medical care –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Given my recent history, need I say more?  And now that it seems to be GolfGuy’s turn in the box for health issues, this high level of medical care assumes added importance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;5.  Mountain time zone – &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like my evening news at 5 pm and the late news  at 9 pm or even 10 pm and DWTS at 7 pm.  How do people in the Eastern Time zone ever see the end of Sunday or Monday Night Football?  I would be zonked out by half time.  After over 30 years in the Pacific Time zone, Mountain Time took some adjusting on our part.  Now it is “normal” and other time zones feel strange.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;6.  Purgatory – &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The county jail has an official name, “Purgatory”.  How great is that?  And the green and white striped clad work gangs from there are largely responsible for the clean state of the local highways.  Purgatory is located next to the county fairgrounds – don’t know if there is any significance in that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;7.  The Village 4th of July celebration –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Small town and corny, but it does make my heart go pitty-pat, especially the grand finale of the fireworks display, following the always overly-long softball game against the neighboring village.  And all the other local area parades – St. Pat’s Day, Peach Days, Pioneer Days, etc. – where junior and senior high school bands straggle along, local politicians shamelessly campaign, horses clop and poop, fire engines scream their horns, flags wave in the ever present wind, and piles and piles of wrapped candies are pitched to the swarming children.  The very bestest part is enjoying it all in the company of my family. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;8.Street numbering system – &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;100 North for the first street north from some fixed point, 100 South for the first street south, and so forth for East and West, progressively increasing as you move farther away from the starting point.  When Mamie first told me about it, I thought it was section line numbers (shows my Kansas background) but she explained it to me later when she found out the system.  Once you get the hang of it, it makes a weird kind of sense for an address to be 1900 West 600 North.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;9.  Use of “tending” for babysitting –&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People here don’t say, “I’m babysitting kids tonight’; it’s “I’m &lt;em&gt;tending&lt;/em&gt; kids tonight”.  Somehow, “to tend” seems more apt than “to babysit”.  All areas have their “localisms” – e.g.,  in Oregon, “costy” for “pricey”; in the Midwest, “pop” while the West Coast says “soda”; you stand “on line” in the east but “in line” elsewhere.  “Tending” just particularly tickles my fancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;10.  The local Jack in the Box –&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when I was making daily trips to the Big Town for various medical procedures, I got into the habit of pulling into a local Jack in the Box for a cold, delicious, fountain Diet Coke as a treat for the trip home.  The nice young man who was frequently on duty when I made my stops soon came to recognize me, and we had many friendly little chats.  A warm, human touch I needed at that particular time.  The trips, for all reasons,  have decreased to one or two a week, but GolfGuy and I continue the habit.  If we are flying solo, we purchase a second one for the partner at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the above items are the same old, same old; but I did try to come up with examples that are unique to here.  It’s these little things that make any area special; and we need to occasionally remind ourselves of what makes life good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have drafted several different Ten Things lists.  While the first few items leap readily to mind, I am finding it can be a challenge to come up with 10 for each.  The process prompts me to really stop and think about the topic at hand.  Try it – you’ll find it worth your time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6573647551513775719?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6573647551513775719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/ten-things-tuesday-my-edition.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6573647551513775719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6573647551513775719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/ten-things-tuesday-my-edition.html' title='Ten Things Tuesday, My Edition'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7432689665941801511</id><published>2009-03-23T12:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T10:40:16.130-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pastimes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Projects</title><content type='html'>I have projects lined up, ready to take off like planes on the taxiway at LAX.  Some I have actually started and then put aside for whatever caught my fancy for a time.  Others are busily churning in my mind – I spent the hour at Silver Sneakers exercise class, while huffing and puffing along, plotting blog posts and planning the latest plastic canvas project that popped into my head early this morning.  Others remain glimmers in the back of my mind – waiting for the chance to catch me unaware and demand attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, the needlework projects have been shoved to the back of the line by the blog – and my new obsession with hidden-object computer games (one that is shared and aided and abetted by GolfGuy).  This new design idea has really sparked my interest tho, and I am anxious to see if I can get it worked out.  So, there is a new #1 in line, and I am off to see what I can do about it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7432689665941801511?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7432689665941801511/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/projects.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7432689665941801511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7432689665941801511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/projects.html' title='Projects'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-857029203710108124</id><published>2009-03-23T06:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T06:13:02.984-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Rock Chips</title><content type='html'>Last Friday afternoon, we were returning home from the BigTown after some errands and lunch.  We were tooling along the Interstate, checking out the construction on the new northbound lane when there was a loud “CRACK!” and before our pissed-off eyes suddenly appeared a chip in the windshield.  Oh shit!  This isn’t your everyday little chip; it is a quarter size crater with a little buddy chip a few inches away. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When GolfGuy called the insurance company once we got home, he told the rep he was “reporting in from the Rock Chip Capitol of the World.”  Sad, but true.  In the 4½ years that we have been here, Mamie is already on her 4th windshield – and that one has a recently repaired rock chip.  The Igor family has also been through several windshields and/or repairs.  The windshield on GolfGuy’s car had to be replaced just a few months ago.  There are probably more such occurrences just in our family, but I can’t bring them to mind at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were in my Rav4 because it is easier to load and unload the cases of water and other such items from Costco than from GolfGuy’s fancy-schmancy Camry.  I feel really sad when my beloved Rav4 is injured, and I am relieved that the fixer guy is coming today to make it better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-857029203710108124?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/857029203710108124/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/rock-chips.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/857029203710108124'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/857029203710108124'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/rock-chips.html' title='Rock Chips'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2905106561105097503</id><published>2009-03-22T12:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T12:27:11.070-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Lilac</title><content type='html'>Hooray!  The lilac bush that Mamie and Mrs. Igor gave me last Mother’s Day and Mrs. Igor planted has burst fully into bloom – no more hints of the beauty to come, it has arrived.  When I walked into the kitchen just now, it jumped up and grabbed my attention as I glanced out the window.  A quick trip out back verified that, yes indeed, it does smell most delightfully like lilac.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2905106561105097503?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2905106561105097503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/lilac.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2905106561105097503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2905106561105097503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/lilac.html' title='Lilac'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7876153019804890884</id><published>2009-03-22T09:46:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T09:54:25.212-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Pastimes'/><title type='text'>Cozies &amp; Coasters</title><content type='html'>Mamie informed me yesterday that the Igor Family is down to 2 coasters and they are feeling very neglected by the Coaster Lady – that would be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After trying my hand at many different crafty activities over the years with results ranging from merely mediocre to really bad, I came across the “art” of doing needlepoint-type stitching on a base of plastic canvas.  As they say, the rest is history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My main output consists of Kleenex Cozies (known as tissue box covers in the polite world) and coasters, with napkin rings a distant third.  Over the years I have made dozens and dozens of each.  I have matching cozies and coasters for all holidays and seasons and moods  – at least 8 cozies for Christmas alone.  Mamie and the Igors have been inundated with examples of my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shortly after Pi* was born, Mamie and I drove back to Kansas to visit the happy family.  We spent most of the week burrowed in at Grammie’s house sewing Humpty dolls for Mrs. Igor, Bubby and Pi to go with the one Igor had (Grammie made a Humpty for each of her grandchildren when they were small – these remain treasured possessions).  When we returned home, I designed and made cozies to match the fabric in Bubby’s and Pi’s Humptys and that also incorporated their names.  Special Christmas cozies for each followed and on and on…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years ago, I was working on drawing a design for a plastic bag holder – it was to be a large piece, with lots of flowers, etc.  I was laboring the old fashioned way – graph paper and colored pencils – and getting so frustrated I couldn’t see straight.  One screw-up and the whole thing was toast, and I had to start over.  GolfGuy couldn’t take it any longer and went online and found a software program for me that lets you work out your patterns easy as can be.  Bless you, GolfGuy; the program has been a god-send to me – and saved both our sanities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;*references to Grandson and Granddaughter have morphed into “Bubby” and “Pi”.  Not only are Grandson and Granddaughter waaay too many keystrokes for my impatient and clumsy fingers, but I don’t think  of them in those terms.  So Bubby and Pi it will be.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7876153019804890884?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7876153019804890884/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/cozies-coasters_22.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7876153019804890884'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7876153019804890884'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/cozies-coasters_22.html' title='Cozies &amp; Coasters'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4212729456954680952</id><published>2009-03-21T13:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T14:03:01.786-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cats/Pets'/><title type='text'>Darn Cat!</title><content type='html'>Snickers, my big grumpy mostly Maine Coon cat, just knocked the remains of my cold, delicious fountain Diet Coke from Maverick off the kitchen counter. Naturally, the lid came off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both cats found the cleaning up utterly fascinating to observe. I noticed that neither one offered any assistance - nor has Snickers said why he was on the counter in the first place. Maybe 'cuz he knows that's verboten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4212729456954680952?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4212729456954680952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/darn-cat.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4212729456954680952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4212729456954680952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/darn-cat.html' title='Darn Cat!'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-8723146160179047347</id><published>2009-03-21T08:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T09:04:28.607-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rants'/><title type='text'>Word use</title><content type='html'>Our local paper is beyond bad, and the readers who write in contribute greatly to that badness by displaying their ignorance of grammar and proper sentence construction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning's version of "The Vent" - a regular Saturday feature wherein readers can submit letters without signing their names - really got me hopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The writer starts out with "It's a sunny Sunday afternoon as I '&lt;em&gt;set&lt;/em&gt;'on my patio..."  That is followed by "As I &lt;em&gt;'have sit' &lt;/em&gt;here..."  And that's just the &lt;strong&gt;first&lt;/strong&gt; 2 sentences!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arrgh! And double Arrgh!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-8723146160179047347?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/8723146160179047347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/word-use.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8723146160179047347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/8723146160179047347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/word-use.html' title='Word use'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6943260383785917264</id><published>2009-03-21T07:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T07:56:55.000-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Left laundry</title><content type='html'>When I went into the laundry room this morning to scoop the cats’ litter box that resides there, I noticed the little green light on my spiffy front loader that indicates a “freshly” washed load to be removed.  Only it wasn’t so fresh – having been put thru its paces at some point yesterday.  I just hate it when I let laundry languish for any length of time in either the washer or dryer.  It is most  annoying to try to put in a new load only to discover the old load still hanging out in there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever since we went thru the toss-up and re-arranging of rooms last summer, I spend most of my time (too much probably) in a room somewhat far removed from the laundry room.  I cannot hear the end-of-cycle buzzers – even the washer’s which is particularly loud and persistent.  Thus, the left laundry and one more daily gripe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6943260383785917264?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6943260383785917264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/left-laundry.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6943260383785917264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6943260383785917264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/left-laundry.html' title='Left laundry'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-4224215415029842584</id><published>2009-03-21T06:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-21T06:40:33.100-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GolfGuy'/><title type='text'>GolfGuy</title><content type='html'>GolfGuy LOVES golf.  Duh!  He eats, breathes, and sleeps golf.  Not only does he recount in detail his rounds of golf to me, I am treated to re-hashes of the many golf matches he watches on TV.  One of the reasons we have 2 DVR’s is the conflicts we were having over who got to record what, when – I honestly felt my SVU and Bones  re-runs had priority over obscure golf tournaments.  He begged to differ – thus 2 DVR’s to serve the 4 TV’s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prior to retirement, he entertained visions of the 2 of us merrily making the rounds of golf courses across the country.  To that end, he persuaded me to take some golf lessons.  Frankly, I &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;hated&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; it.  Not only did I have problems getting all the body parts to play nicely together, the thick fog of testosterone swirling around the golf environment raised my hackles.  More importantly, I knew that I lacked the commitment to the game that would be required in order to become even marginally competent at it – necessary for even the lowest level of enjoyment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The notion of happy, harmonious couple-golf went by the wayside after several joint ventures.  I realized that if we continued  to try this endeavor I would be forced to inflict serious bodily injury on poor GolfGuy by the 8th or 9th hole, minimum.  He really tried to &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; tell me what to do or how to do it; but he just couldn’t help himself, I was so bad and he so wanted me to be good.  Case in point –a few years ago, we were staying at an RV park that had a “putting” course for guests.  Needing to get out of the confines of the tin-can for a bit and it being a nice evening, I thought a companionable stroll around the putting course would be a good way to spend some time.  Wrong.  He just couldn’t resist trying to tell me how to line up my putts or how hard to hit the ball.  It was a COW PASTURE , for god’s sake.  How much technique could you use?  Just aim in the general direction, whack the snot out of the ball, and hope for the best.  If this was what a REAL round of golf together would be like, count me out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the deciding factors for settling in the Village (other than the proximity of the family) was the abundance of golf courses in the area.  GolfGuy was a happy man – 3 or 4 rounds a week at reasonable prices.  I was a happy woman – no lunch duty 3 or 4 times a week.  Life was good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But as happens in life, things started to fall apart.  In the last 6-9 months, GolfGuy’s playing has been severely hampered by a series of physical issues.  First it was calcium deposits on his heels – some physical therapy and the purchase of orthotic devices for his shoes helped ease that problem.  Then his right elbow begin bothering him, eventually to the point of causing extreme pain every time he swung a driver or a fairway club – he could still chip and putt without much pain, but the course marshals would &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; be on his case for slow play if he tried to chip and putt his way around the course.  Physical therapy and cortisone shots did not take care of the pain, so surgery was done to scrape the bone spurs off his elbow.  Recovery is proceeding slowly – once a week or so he goes over to the course and hits balls, and he’s up to 6 or 7 before he has to stop.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been 4 or 5 months since he’s been on the course for a round.  He misses golf and the friends he was developing at the courses and his “me time”.  It has been rough for both of us for him to be basically confined to the house and my sometimes cranky company.  But we’ll get through this; and if the other health issues that have cropped up recently keep him out of golf action, we’ll just have to come up with some other outlet for him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-4224215415029842584?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/4224215415029842584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/golfguy.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4224215415029842584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/4224215415029842584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/golfguy.html' title='GolfGuy'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-233576606560650840</id><published>2009-03-20T05:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T05:50:29.511-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>newWalmart</title><content type='html'>First impressions, some good and some bad, from my first – but not last – trip to newWalmart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a LOT smaller than oldWalmart (or even otherWalmart on the south side of the BigTown) – I seem to recall that when the plans came up for approval before our all-knowing and ever-wise Village council, they decreed that the square footage had to be decreased for reasons known only to the anointed ones.  Perhaps I disremember, tho.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still smells “new” – like a new car or new house.  THAT will change in a hurry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was very quiet at 9:30 in the morning – almost echoey.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The layout is very different from any other Walmart I’ve been in and will take some getting used to.  But I think I will like it; the departments we visit the most – pharmacy, personal care items, pet supplies, cleaning supplies, and groceries  - are all at the same end of the store.  No more long hikes back and forth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is 5 minutes travel time, there or back.  No need to haul along a cooler, as we have had to do in sizzling summer when temperatures stay over 110 for weeks on end here.  Some years ago, when we all lived in north San Diego county, climatic wonderland of the world, my late mother INSISTED on loading a cooler with frozen water bottles into her vehicle for each and every trip to the grocery store.  Good heavens, the temperature rarely got over 75 and no return trip home was more than 15 minutes.  Oh how we mocked and teased behind her back!  But, guess what folks?  That is the very cooler we have been using here!  Mother was right, as usual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The selection of goods is not as wide or varied as we are accustomed to.  The fabric and craft department was a major disappointment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No self-check lines – now it is the checker who is misloading the bags; GolfGuy is off the hook on that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GolfGuy thinks some of the prices are higher than at oldWalmart.  How can that be?  I don’t know if they are or not – I don’t remember numbers like GolfGuy does; he’s a whiz at that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cart return areas are few and far between – what a nuisance!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The parking lot is smallish – but there is room for expansion.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-233576606560650840?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/233576606560650840/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/newwalmart.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/233576606560650840'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/233576606560650840'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/newwalmart.html' title='newWalmart'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7380483109373477011</id><published>2009-03-19T10:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T10:56:25.072-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='GolfGuy'/><title type='text'>Grocery Shopping</title><content type='html'>For over 30 years I managed to do the grocery shopping for this family (and for 14 years in our first family life) – and mostly ALL BY MYSELF. Sometimes I did have to drag children with me, but that was mostly disastrous, so I tried to avoid it at all costs. When Mamie and Igor were in the obnoxious pre- and teen years, I would gather my list, coupons, purse and keys and announce, “I am going to the store. I’ll be back shortly.” Their standard response was, “Well, you sure won’t be back TALL-Y” heh-heh-heh. Yes, it’s true I am a squatty Wombat; but it was the snottily gleeful tone of voice from my loving children that really made smoke come out of my ears. And by the way, that word “squatty” is a top contender for #1 on my list of ugly words. Hmm….an idea for a Ten Things Tuesday list. Anyway, nobody seriously starved or went without as a result of my solo shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The point of all this is that now that GolfGuy is accompanying me, I suddenly do not seem to know what I am doing. (Did I suffer some sort of brain cramp nobody told me about?) My choices are constantly second guessed. And unplanned items keep mysteriously jumping into the shopping cart – he’s worse than the kids ever were about that; and it encourages ME to toss in impulse items. I seem to be lacking some self-restraint here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We generally go through the self-check line. No matter how hard I try to keep things sorted as to what goes in the pantry, the refrigerator/freezer, the laundry room, or back to the bathroom, he tosses items into bags willy-nilly. ALL the canned goods into the same bags; ditto all other heavy objects – no weight balancing for him! During the months of medical treatment when my participation in the shopping activity was limited to leaning on the cart as I shuffled thru the store, indicating which items to grab, GolfGuy did the scanning, bagging, car loading and toting into the house. A practice that continues to this day (I’m not totally stupid – those tasks are WORK). Once the bags are actually in the house, I do sort things out and put them away – otherwise we would NEVER find anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I see other couples in the store – wandering closely together, sometimes holding hands, seemingly in harmony on what they’re doing. Meanwhile, we seem to be engaged in a titanic test of wills. Could it be that we are both control freaks and actually deserve each other?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fairness, I am just as big a pain in the butt when I accompany GolfGuy to a home improvement or electronics store. I can gaze at bins of sprinkler fittings or piles of some electronic thingie for only so long before my eyes glaze over and start to roll back in my head and I go into whiney toddler mode.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7380483109373477011?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7380483109373477011/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/grocery-shopping.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7380483109373477011'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7380483109373477011'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/grocery-shopping.html' title='Grocery Shopping'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-6500707735626697153</id><published>2009-03-19T07:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T07:52:38.129-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Spring, part 2</title><content type='html'>When I went out to retrieve the papers this morning, I discovered some new little purple flowers by the big red rock. Haven't the foggiest what they are - but they sure are cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The surprises of spring - helps to be entering the stage of life when the memory is not what it once was.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-6500707735626697153?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/6500707735626697153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-part-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6500707735626697153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/6500707735626697153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-part-2.html' title='Spring, part 2'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7104645658355082391</id><published>2009-03-19T05:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-19T05:32:29.428-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Ahhhh...Spring</title><content type='html'>I have learned that spring is arriving in our Village when the sounds of lawnmowers grumble through the air. Wintertime rarely brings the scrape of shovels against cement – the few inches of snow that fall 2 or 3 times a winter generally melt fairly rapidly. But the grass does go dormant and the warmer weather wakes it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My front yard daffodils have bloomed and finished. The low-growing little purple flowers by the big rock are over – don’t know what they are as I foolishly pitched the packaging after planting the brown, mushroom-y things. The backyard daffodils – the ones that bothered to bloom – are winding down. The purple flowers that look like miniature Dutch iris have come and gone. But the hyacinths are out in full glory and smell delicious. The full size Dutch iris sent up their leaves really early – or so it seems to me – and thus got treated to several of our snows. I have hope that they will bloom – last year they came on after all the other bulb flowers were long gone and were glorious to see. Mamie and I have started checking the nursery ads weekly for good deals – if it’s not on sale, we try not to buy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an aside – in the fall of ’07 I purchased a number of bulbs but hadn’t gotten around to planting them before being hit by the dreaded ”C” word. Early on, I asked one of my wonderful doctors if I should bother to plant my spring bulbs. He replied, “But of course. You will be around to enjoy them for many years.” That was certainly an attitude adjusting moment for me. Mrs. Igor came over and helped GolfGuy prepare the area, and I managed to get the bulbs in the ground. Their flowers have truly been a joy to me last spring and this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the air continues to warm, I anxiously await the annual parade of puffballs – Gambel’s Quail chicks – across the backyard to sample and scratch at the seed flung on the ground from the birdfeeder by the other birds. I make sure that I scatter extra seed as well, and I put out small saucers of water for them. The proud parents have a bit of struggle trying to keep them together as the little devils tend to scurry about in all directions. Like human chicks, they grow up much too quickly and leave the nest before we are ready to see them go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been in my mind for several days now that it is about time to pack away the flannel jammie pants and haul out the light weight cotton ones. Oversize cotton tees for the top work well year round. The winter robe is about to be put away in favor of a lighter one. Soon I will switch the bedspreads and bath towels to the “summer ones.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flip flops and pedicures. When I start thinking about heading into the nail salon, I know warm weather is on us. My feet border on ugly, but a good spa pedicure makes me feel that they are basically presentable. I have a nice selection of flip flops that I live in from April/May to September. Altho, last year my physical therapist was NOT impressed with them – but he was kinda creepy and I was soon done with him so who cares what he thinks anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, spring IS definitely in the air and I am more than ready.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7104645658355082391?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7104645658355082391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/ahhhhspring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7104645658355082391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7104645658355082391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/ahhhhspring.html' title='Ahhhh...Spring'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-2564933189226048161</id><published>2009-03-18T08:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T08:41:23.447-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Oh Happy Day!</title><content type='html'>The shiny new SuperWalmart in our Village opens today.  And it’s less than a mile from our house!  No more 26 mile round trips to the Big Town “megalopolis” for our weekly grocery and sundry shopping.  We have a perfectly nice local grocery store a couple of miles away in the Village, but their prices do tend to be quite a bit higher.  However, I won’t completely abandon them.  I really admire their community involvement and practice of hiring handicapped people of all stripes .  Plus some of their weekly specials make the trip more than worthwhile (happens to be Diet Coke this week, a basic necessity at our house) – as long as we stick to those items.  And they are right next to the Post Office and conveniently on my way home from Silver Sneakers exercise class – whereas newWalmart is the other way down the highway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of the other way – it is a right turn onto the highway to get to newWalmart, but would be a left turn onto the highway to return home.  I don’t do unprotected left turns onto this highway if I can help it as local drivers tend to drive like the proverbial bats out of hell while talking on cell phones and/or trying to control unrestrained hordes of children in the vehicle.  I figure the fewer opportunities, the better my odds of not getting smooshed.  I was planning on returning via the “back road”, which is what I use to get to Mamie’s or Igor’s houses.  But, lo and behold, the powers-that-be are actually putting a traffic signal at that intersection – and it should be operational today, or shortly thereafter.  I haven’t been up that way yet ‘cuz I don’t do the grand opening scene – tomorrow will be soon enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mamie was highly incensed when the plans were first announced – it IS located on HER corner (where she turns off the highway to her house, at least ½ mile away).  She railed long and loudly and often about increased traffic, noise, blah, blah, blah…  She was convinced she would be able to see the parking lot lights at night from her backyard  – in spite of the distance and the existence of hills and houses in-between.  Granted you CAN catch glimpses of the building, if you know what you are looking for, as you traverse the back road to her house and the sight-lines thru the hills change.  Now she is anticipating the opening as eagerly as the rest of us, saying she could walk there if she wanted and Grandma T (who lives with her) could ride her “tricycle” there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is the big day, at last, and we shall see how things unfold.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-2564933189226048161?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/2564933189226048161/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-happy-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2564933189226048161'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/2564933189226048161'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/oh-happy-day.html' title='Oh Happy Day!'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-3314568052657409241</id><published>2009-03-18T05:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T05:24:44.122-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS, Wk 2 Results</title><content type='html'>I was wrong - I was sure Jackass would be in the lame dance-off with Woz.  Oh well, Blimp-linda was destined to go at some point.  But was it &lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;really&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt; necessary to have us watch the BOTTOM TWO COUPLES dance 3 times?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Loved the big band number - &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;THAT'S&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; my kind of music.  You know - rhythm, melody, harmony, words that make sense - all the good stuff.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-3314568052657409241?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/3314568052657409241/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-2-results.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3314568052657409241'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3314568052657409241'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-2-results.html' title='DWTS, Wk 2 Results'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7647360264170614408</id><published>2009-03-17T10:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T10:16:02.445-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS,  Wk 2</title><content type='html'>What, were they all sandbagging last week? Amazing improvement for most. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woz didn’t look quite so silly and Telly tubbish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoa! The Cowboy looks darn cute when he smiles – guess there’s not much of that goin’ on when clinging to the back of a bucking beast – and he actually got his feet off the floor this time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BlondBunnyBimbo dropped a couple of notches and should soon be gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry, but Belinda What’s-Her-Face still resembles a lead blimp lumbering around the floor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julianne (my former fav pro) and her CW squeeze were even more disappointing this week than last. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lil Kim and her pro Derek (isn’t he cutest kid?) were surprisingly good – and I am predisposed against rap noise (refuse to call it music) and those who foist it off on the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Didn’t mean to leave out Lawrence Taylor last time – guess the absence of personality (other than surly) didn’t bring him to mind. To paraphrase, he’s no Jerry Rice…or Emmett Smith…or Jason Taylor (Mr. Smooth &amp; Elegant)…or Warren Sapp (wasn’t he an absolute &lt;em&gt;hoot&lt;/em&gt;? Loved his total joy in what he was doing). LT did manage some facial expressions this week and his dancing wasn’t bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest improvement was the absence of a live appearance by the Jackass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The money bet is still on Melissa or Gilles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7647360264170614408?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7647360264170614408/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7647360264170614408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7647360264170614408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts-wk-2.html' title='DWTS,  Wk 2'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-1369339000029030960</id><published>2009-03-17T06:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-17T07:05:45.404-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>March Madness</title><content type='html'>Last evening during dinner, GolfGuy and I were discussing the upcoming NCAA basketball tournament, the brackets, the seedings, and so forth.  We both have &lt;em&gt;some&lt;/em&gt; BB in our backgrounds - he played it in high school as did at least 2 of his 4 brothers and I was at Kansas State during the time of Tex Winter and the triple-post offense and BB was the big deal as K-State football was so freakin' lousy at that time.  So we both tend to associate skill and strategy with the game -but no technque involved nowadays as the mass of huge, overpaid thugs thunders up and down the court, pushing and shoving and slamming the ball at the basket.  Thus, we don't watch or follow pro or college versions - except at March Madness time when we search out the least likely, biggest underdog team/school to root for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GolfGuy mentioned an article he had read that morning in the SinCity paper concerning the fact that surgeons say March Madness time is the busiest period of the year for vasectomies!  Seems all the 20 and 30 something arrested-adoloescent-development males all the wretched beer commercials (Budweiser horses exempted from wretchedness) are so fond of have discovered that the 2-3 day recovery period from the procedure is the perfect excuse to miss work, etc. and vege out on BB.  As one such prime example put it, "Sure beats watching Oprah all day."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-1369339000029030960?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/1369339000029030960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-madness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1369339000029030960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/1369339000029030960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-madness.html' title='March Madness'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-7827182032471603958</id><published>2009-03-16T06:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T06:57:10.041-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='DWTS'/><title type='text'>DWTS</title><content type='html'>I must confess – I am a huge, huge fan of Dancing With The Stars.  The show does border on being cheesy – or even pornographic with some of the moves and outfits – but there is something about it that just reaches out and grabs me.  I eagerly await the start of each new season and check and double-check that both DVR’s are set to record it (yes, we have 2 DVR’S – gross extravagance you say?  &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Of course!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;)  The first few seasons I voted like a crazy person – my cell phone, GolfGuy’s cell phone (he did get tacky about that when he wanted to vote for someone else), the house phone, on-line – any and every way I could. The fall and winter of 2007-08 I was in a semi-comatose state and couldn’t summon up the energy to frantically dial and re-dial, so I fell out of the habit and haven’t picked it up again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fall season of DWTS does present a conflict as the booby network that gave up Monday Night Football chooses to put DWTS on opposite MNF.  Football is the &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; thing that bumps DWTS.  So I make sure the DVR is set (so simple even I can do it) and then I am careful to watch before the results show.  But that does mean that voting, other than on-line, doesn’t happen – reinforcing my laziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My take on the first show of the spring season follows:&lt;br /&gt;Woz wasn’t just bad – he was AWFUL!  Now the Cowboy (Jewel’s husband) while kind of cute was just plain bad.  As for Belinda What’s-her-face – the comparison to Cloris Leachman, from last season, was quite apt.  The Jackass was – well, a jackass.  Gilles will be one of the finalists, if not the winner.  He was on KTLA the next morning – YUMMO!  The 16 year-old Gold Medal Gymnast was quite good – but I hate to see a 16-year old looking and being dressed so maturely – even a GMG.  The real surprise was Melissa, the reject/ditchee from Bachelor – she was elegant and lovely to watch and with only 2 days practice.  Much better than the Blond Bunny Bimbo – who had a whole week of practice.  Altho, the BBB does have the best legs seen on the show since the female wrestler from about season 2.  The rest of the pack was… the rest of the pack – not very memorable, just filler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole group has the opportunity to change my thinking tonight – and yes, they are dancing JUST for me…aren’t they?   Stay tuned.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-7827182032471603958?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/7827182032471603958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7827182032471603958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/7827182032471603958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/dwts.html' title='DWTS'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3270626547672118363.post-3353254726986159510</id><published>2009-03-15T16:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T10:41:13.476-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rambles'/><title type='text'>Hello</title><content type='html'>Yes, I know the title of the blog is from the old tired joke about, “I married him for better or worse; BUT NOT FOR LUNCH!” Actually, that was the point. Now that we are retired – not newly as it has been 5 years – the joke makes perfect sense to me. This lunch business drives me nutso! When it was just me at home, I could eat lunch or not, eat whatever strange thing I craved, or if I was deep in some project, just grab whatever was handiest. Now I dread hearing that piteous voice asking, “What are we doing for lunch?” My gut reaction is “Eating it”, but knowing that my sarcasm is not well received, I usually manage to reply, “What would you like?” Not only do I dislike having to prepare the stupid meal, I dislike even more trying to think of WHAT to fix. Once in a while, I can outlast him and he will manage to come up with something. Or sometimes I can get by with, “You’re on your own today.” Honestly, tho, he is a jewel about cooking dinner – which he is quite good at – if I want him to. And when I was going through the rough times with chemo and radiation, he was positively saintly about fixing meals – as well as doing other housework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My former mother-in-law, Grammie (see Mamie’s blog, &lt;a href="http://www.mamieutah.blogspot.com/"&gt;http://www.mamieutah.blogspot.com/&lt;/a&gt;), used to fix lunch EVERY day for her husband and 3 boys! And not soup and a sandwich or nuked frozen burritos (right, that wasn’t invented then). It was a full blown meal – salad, meat, potatoes, vegetable, rolls (homemade, of course) and dessert (again, homemade). Then she did it all over again for supper (dinner for those of you not from the Heartland). And she did all the kitchen cleanup – woman’s work, you know. The woman was never out of the kitchen! Of course, for most of those years she did have household help 2 full days a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have vented about the lunch thing – and I do feel much better for having done so, thank you – let me introduce the main cast of characters I will be referring to. The names in parentheses are the ones used in the aforementioned Mamie’s blog – had to change some to suit the circumstances. Wombat, that’s me (won’t catch ME doing “mommy blog”); GolfGuy, my husband (GolfDad); Mamie, my daughter; MamiesMan (DarlingMan – can’t bring myself to use THAT); Igor, my son; Mrs. Igor, his wife; Grandson and Granddaughter (Nephew and Niece); GrandmaT, Mrs. Igor’s mom; Snickers and Pudge, our cats. Various other characters will wander in from time to time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through a somewhat strange and involved series of events, we all ended up in the southwest corner of Utah. We all live in the Village, close to the Big Town, and within a few minutes of each other. I love being so close to my grown children – ever since they flew off to college, we had been scattered over various parts of California and Kansas. They have grown to be well-adjusted (mostly), good, personable people. I am frequently complimented on my wonderful daughter/son, and my only response is “In spite of me, not because of me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although I do have a tentative list of ideas for posts, I probably will be somewhat erratic in actually posting them. As anyone who has tried to correspond with me on a regular basis knows, I either flood you with ramblings or go ridiculously long periods with nary a word. Please don’t give up on me. Feel free to comment and suggest ideas for discussion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I actually do get this blog up and running, it will be one more thing crossed off my “Bucket List”. And if you haven’t seen this wonderful movie, rent it immediately.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3270626547672118363-3353254726986159510?l=butnotforlunch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/feeds/3353254726986159510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/yes-i-know-title-of-blog-is-from-old.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3353254726986159510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3270626547672118363/posts/default/3353254726986159510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://butnotforlunch.blogspot.com/2009/03/yes-i-know-title-of-blog-is-from-old.html' title='Hello'/><author><name>Wombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17056540094930936079</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
