At some point today my blog recorded its one hundred thousandth hit.
All because of you. My humble thanks.
Stephen
Friday, February 3, 2012
Thanks & Welcome
To my lovely new follower and friend, Auntie J. As always with my 'welcome' post I promise to answer any and all comments.
Please, pull a cup of coffee, have a seat and let's have some fun. Again, thank you and welcome.
You are now among friends.
Stephen
Please, pull a cup of coffee, have a seat and let's have some fun. Again, thank you and welcome.
You are now among friends.
Stephen
You Be Kidding Me
The day nurse arrived at noon. Nice lady. Sweet wife lead her to our family room. She walks in and places her laptop and pile of paperwork on our coffee table and ever so gently, takes a seat.
I patiently wait as she takes in the room. She swiveled, looks this way and that...then, "Oh my God, how many books do you own?"
In truth I reply, "Not sure."
Silence. Sweet Wife gives me the 'look.' She knows I'm about to go all smart ass.
Then, the day nurse said - and I'm serious..."You read all these?" Her words...really.
With full knowledge I'm still under the gaze of Sweet Wife, I said, "Yes Mame, I've read all of them, and more. I have a library in the other wing of the house."
Silence.
Then, "You be kidding me."
She looks at me, mouth wide open. I smiled. Sweet Wife smiled. We've heard it before, one of those been there done that moments.
The day nurse stands and walks over and places her hand on my head. After a moment or two I asked if she was checking my temperature.
"No, I just wanted to know if your head was gonna bust wide open."
I think I'll like her.
Stephen
I patiently wait as she takes in the room. She swiveled, looks this way and that...then, "Oh my God, how many books do you own?"
In truth I reply, "Not sure."
Silence. Sweet Wife gives me the 'look.' She knows I'm about to go all smart ass.
Then, the day nurse said - and I'm serious..."You read all these?" Her words...really.
With full knowledge I'm still under the gaze of Sweet Wife, I said, "Yes Mame, I've read all of them, and more. I have a library in the other wing of the house."
Silence.
Then, "You be kidding me."
She looks at me, mouth wide open. I smiled. Sweet Wife smiled. We've heard it before, one of those been there done that moments.
The day nurse stands and walks over and places her hand on my head. After a moment or two I asked if she was checking my temperature.
"No, I just wanted to know if your head was gonna bust wide open."
I think I'll like her.
Stephen
So Be It
This truly saddens me. I have now been labeled a bigot. So be it.
Kris WatsonFeb 3, 2012 08:52 AM
Hello, Stephen. I have been reading your blog for a nice long while now, and am sending best wishes for you quick recovery.I truly hate to lose followers. I believe this dear lady missed the main point of my post. Interesting, none the less. The post is here.
However, I have just removed your blog from my reading list, because of this post. Not because you are not correct to remnd us all of the dangers in our world today, but because I have no respect for anyone who attacks another person based on their appearance. You have no information on this family's situation, yet you chose to assume that the father was a bad parent because he didn't take his child to school, and that said bad parenting was because of his weight. It was a bad decision on your part, and in the end I cannot remain in support of a blog which condones bigotry. You may not see it now, but any prejudgement based on appearance is bigotry, whether it be skin color, disability, or weight. I am very disappointed in you, and even though you are recovering from an illness right now, this time of reflection may be helpful.
Thanks & Welcome
To my new friends and followers, The Old Geezer, MaddMedic, bargirl2381, and Phyllis of N/W Jersey.
My new friends, first of all, please forgive me for this late thanks and welcome. I promise to always reply to your comments. As is the case of late, it might take me a while, hours, days and in some rare cases weeks, but rest assured, I will reply.
You are now among friends...again, thanks and welcome.
Stephen
My new friends, first of all, please forgive me for this late thanks and welcome. I promise to always reply to your comments. As is the case of late, it might take me a while, hours, days and in some rare cases weeks, but rest assured, I will reply.
You are now among friends...again, thanks and welcome.
Stephen
Bits and Pieces
I've really lost track of time. Read the local rag this morning and it was filled with articles about the Super Bowl. It's played Sunday? Really? And here I am without the ingredients for my world famous Irish kick-ass salsa, and incapable of shopping for same. I suppose I'll need to make a list and have Sweet Wife sally forth. By the way, it's the only football game I ever watch. Now, if firearms were part of the game...I'd be all over it.
I'll need fresh tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, fresh (or pickled) jalapenos, cilantro and other spices. I'll make a base (or rather give instructions to Sweet Wife) of canned tomatoes, to which you should add small amounts of the above and blend into a smooth tasty mess. The vegetables will be chopped and folded into the base along with your basic salt, pepper, coriander seeds, and Tabasco sauce...enough to make a grown man cry. It should be spicy enough to kill the weak, elderly, and all liberals, lip-stick women and metrosexuals.
I make two batches. Place in the refrigerator over night. It should be thick; you should be able to place a chip (I prefer Doritos, the cheese favor really works well with the salsa) into the salsa and it should stay erect. The salsa will gel. The chip is nothing more than a spoon for the salsa.
I've made this salsa for at least thirty-five years. It's so good I once watched my sister eat it with tears streaming down her face...she'd bite, cry, fan her face, dip and bite...I said, "Sis, if it hurts, quit." She took another bite.
The file picture above is not my salsa...it appears to 'dry.' The base should be liquid, but dense.
In other news...Sweet Wife has been on a cleaning kick this morning. Our home, for the most part, smells of bleach. Not a dust particle in sight. Even in normal times she's a cleaning demon, but now...God help the person that drops a hair on her tile or carpet. She hovers over me like a hen herding its chicks. Bless her heart. She's so tired and won't admit it.
And, I'm clean shaven. Still have my chin beard and mustache, but the rest of my face is clean. It feels so good. My bread is closely cropped...as I like it. I can't help but rub my face. I'm leaner too. I'm a fairly muscled man, so at least I don't appear as if I've dropped too much weight, but trust me, I have. Feels weird.
I'll have daily nurse visits here at home for the foreseeable future. They call ahead and give me a window of their arrival which should give me a bit of free time. Today they will install a wound vacuum system, portable. A unit which I'm told will allow me to attach it to my belt. Even thought I cannot yet stand and walk a great deal, at least I'm able to move for brief periods. Not sure how I'll sleep with the darn thing. I must wear it twenty-two out of twenty-four hours of the day. It's parasitic.
I'm currently reading 'Deep Winter.' Give it a shot. I haven't forgotten my promise to list the books I read while in the hospital, give me time. Also same for my 'thanks and welcome' post. It will be done. Please be patient with me. (No pun intended)
I wish I could hug all you guys...for the men, a man bump. The ladies...God bless you, you've been so sweet. If it were possible I'd take all of you out to dinner.
I mark the hours until the arrival of my Little Bit. Tick, tick, tick. Wish I had a gift for her. I can't wait until I'm able to begin our morning ride to breakfast and school. I love it when I arrive at my son's house - how she runs out the front door and jumps into my arms. That first sweet squeeze of complete love. The way she cuddles her face into my shoulder. Then the way she feels me in on her nights events. Sometimes she'll have a picture she's drawn for me and how she'll watch for my reaction as I look it over. Of course I always tell her it's a masterpiece.
Just glanced over and found Sweet Wife passed out. She was up and at it at 0500 this morning. Makes me feel so awful she's been forced into the roll of caregiver. I'll never be able to repay her, but I'll do my very best.
I'd sure enjoy a day on the range...my trigger finger itches.
At least I'm home.
Stephen
I'll need fresh tomatoes, bell peppers, onions, fresh (or pickled) jalapenos, cilantro and other spices. I'll make a base (or rather give instructions to Sweet Wife) of canned tomatoes, to which you should add small amounts of the above and blend into a smooth tasty mess. The vegetables will be chopped and folded into the base along with your basic salt, pepper, coriander seeds, and Tabasco sauce...enough to make a grown man cry. It should be spicy enough to kill the weak, elderly, and all liberals, lip-stick women and metrosexuals.
I make two batches. Place in the refrigerator over night. It should be thick; you should be able to place a chip (I prefer Doritos, the cheese favor really works well with the salsa) into the salsa and it should stay erect. The salsa will gel. The chip is nothing more than a spoon for the salsa.
I've made this salsa for at least thirty-five years. It's so good I once watched my sister eat it with tears streaming down her face...she'd bite, cry, fan her face, dip and bite...I said, "Sis, if it hurts, quit." She took another bite.
The file picture above is not my salsa...it appears to 'dry.' The base should be liquid, but dense.
In other news...Sweet Wife has been on a cleaning kick this morning. Our home, for the most part, smells of bleach. Not a dust particle in sight. Even in normal times she's a cleaning demon, but now...God help the person that drops a hair on her tile or carpet. She hovers over me like a hen herding its chicks. Bless her heart. She's so tired and won't admit it.
And, I'm clean shaven. Still have my chin beard and mustache, but the rest of my face is clean. It feels so good. My bread is closely cropped...as I like it. I can't help but rub my face. I'm leaner too. I'm a fairly muscled man, so at least I don't appear as if I've dropped too much weight, but trust me, I have. Feels weird.
I'll have daily nurse visits here at home for the foreseeable future. They call ahead and give me a window of their arrival which should give me a bit of free time. Today they will install a wound vacuum system, portable. A unit which I'm told will allow me to attach it to my belt. Even thought I cannot yet stand and walk a great deal, at least I'm able to move for brief periods. Not sure how I'll sleep with the darn thing. I must wear it twenty-two out of twenty-four hours of the day. It's parasitic.
I'm currently reading 'Deep Winter.' Give it a shot. I haven't forgotten my promise to list the books I read while in the hospital, give me time. Also same for my 'thanks and welcome' post. It will be done. Please be patient with me. (No pun intended)
I wish I could hug all you guys...for the men, a man bump. The ladies...God bless you, you've been so sweet. If it were possible I'd take all of you out to dinner.
I mark the hours until the arrival of my Little Bit. Tick, tick, tick. Wish I had a gift for her. I can't wait until I'm able to begin our morning ride to breakfast and school. I love it when I arrive at my son's house - how she runs out the front door and jumps into my arms. That first sweet squeeze of complete love. The way she cuddles her face into my shoulder. Then the way she feels me in on her nights events. Sometimes she'll have a picture she's drawn for me and how she'll watch for my reaction as I look it over. Of course I always tell her it's a masterpiece.
Just glanced over and found Sweet Wife passed out. She was up and at it at 0500 this morning. Makes me feel so awful she's been forced into the roll of caregiver. I'll never be able to repay her, but I'll do my very best.
I'd sure enjoy a day on the range...my trigger finger itches.
At least I'm home.
Stephen