A few years ago I wrote a post on a wonderful and funny April Fool’s prank. It still makes me laugh today. So without further ado, I give you April Fool’s Prank extraordinaire.
Or Nightmare before Christmas…
The Preface: The image above makes me smile from ear to ear. Growing up, we were never allowed to have any pets. When I was in sixth grade, my mom finally relented to our pleas, letting my brother and I each get a hamster. Over a five year period (they don’t live that long) we both had two hamsters. The entire time we had them, we begged her to pet them. She flatly refused. She would not touch, much less “pet” one. Our constant pleading finally led to her reluctantly touching one with a single finger, quite gingerly, on the head. That was it. Never again…until…
The Post: I remember teaching my childhood hamster, Cinnamon, how to do what you see in the image above. Yes, he became very good at it too. Maybe a little too good. One night he broke out of his cage, jumped down three feet to the linoleum, made his way across the house and climbed upstairs (carpeted not hardwood…lucky hamster) to the second floor. He found his way along the upstairs hall and into my parents bedroom. The little fellow must have been quite tuckered out, because he came upon my mom’s house slippers as we all slept. Well, he crawled into the toe area of one and curled up.
He must have felt so nice and cozy, all snuggled in there that he went to sleep. Everything was going along fine just like “The Night Before Christmas”. Unfortunately, my mom got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and discovered his little nest. We were suddenly woken up by my mother’s screaming.
She had slid a tootsie into one of her slippers and “found” my hamster. I’ll never forget it! It was a mad dash for my brother and I to locate and capture the furry little beast who had scurried away in absolute terror. Luckily my dad was out of town because we were laughing hysterically the whole time. (No, mom was not laughing.) Don’t know if she ever got back to sleep that night. Or the next….
Hope you enjoyed my little tale and have a lovely “turkey” day. Create lots of warm memories. You can never have too many. They’ll warm you on the coldest and saddest days of your life and cheer you on the happiest ones.
Just when I thought we were going to escape the typically hotter’n’hell late summer in Southern California and really get into the mood for the holidays, good ole So Cal throws a few 105+F(40.5+C) days at us. UGH!
I wrote that ten days ago. As usual, things change very rapidly and I’m writing this at 5:30 in the morning because I’m too cold to sleep. Yes, we’ve gone from 100’s to 60’s in just a few days. We even had a light rain yesterday around noon. It was also a lovely dark, some might say gloomy, day yesterday and that’s what’s scheduled for the next five or six days.
Of course, with the first somewhat sustained drizzle came sirens…all day. Yes, once again, everyone out driving about has forgotten how to deal with the wet stuff. Sigh. It’s both funny and sad because it’s been the same year after year for as long as I’ve lived here.
On another note, the “new” refrigerator that’s only a year old in this rental went on the fritz. The property manager who lives with the landlord sent her friend over on Monday to diagnose it and solve the problem. Yes, it’s a rather complicated relationship they lead and I don’t want any part of it.
The end result is that her friend, who has no business working on a refrigerator concluded that it was the seal on the door that needed to be replaced. (Insert huge eye-roll on my part here.) The seal isn’t great but does not account for a 17 degree loss in fridge temperature.
They totally ignored my comments on the amount of noise the compressor makes throughout the day. Yes, I am a trained and qualified refrigerator repair person…LOL! Not. Anyhow, I’ve lost about $250 in food so far and it looks like more will be following, all because the landlord, Eric W. is such a cheapskate. So, I’ll just sit here and watch it play out because Eric, Nubs, and Kirin all know better. Not.
I’m seriously tempted to bet Nubs $100 that it’s the motor not the seal, but I doubt she’d take me up on it because “she knows better”. And yes, she also is a trained and qualified refrigerator repair person. NOT. Insert hysterical laughter here.
More on this later. Sigh.
Well, this must be the year the pecan tree (which towers over this house) is fruiting. The amount of activity and thunks on the roof has been rather startling. Oh, and when I say “activity and thunks”, I don’t mean nuts falling, I mean squirrels going out of their little minds and landing with thuds on the roof while chasing one another and leaping from branch to roof! And the chattering, nattering lectures they deliver to anything impeding their nut gathering has me in stitches. They can go on for five minutes at a crack!
I try not to talk about my health too much here since we all have problems but today just takes the cake or in this case the Conga. My day started out okay, I had a slice of Oroweat Jewish Rye with cold butter (yum) and a glass of V8. Seemed innocuous enough.
Well, it took on a life of its own. I’ve always had a spastic stomach and colon but it hasn’t bothered me for some time. Till this morning.
I spent the entire time (all morning and into the afternoon) less than ten feet from the bathroom. During this time, every cartoon and image of Conga lines I ever saw in my life popped into my head.
Yes, my stomach and intestines were doing a wild Conga gone horribly wrong. I didn’t dare step away from the bathroom. Even going to lay down was risky.
Sad thing is I’m now totally empty and starving even though I lay in bed all morning, moaning of an upset midsection. Colonoscopy anyone? I’m empty, it’d be the perfect time.
But I don’t dare eat a thing since I have no clue what set my bod off. It’s like having about 50 hands squeeze your stomach and intestines off and on, but all at different rates…kind of like the photo above. And they’re doing it horribly wrong to Conga music! I had planned to have chili for dinner but I wouldn’t dare now!! This hasn’t happened in quite some time.
I used to be a really “fun” date. A guy’d take me out to dinner and half way through it, my whole midsection would take on a life of its own and I’d be in the restroom for a half an hour or so. See? Real fun date. And it wasn’t like I was upset, it just seemed that anything out of the ordinary that caused me anxiety (good or bad) could do it and without any warning. I just learned that I’d better find the W.C. FAST.
Found a new food blog and it had some good recipes. But I really have to wonder what goes on in some people’s minds. The recipe involves thin, sweet Italian sausages like this:A person commenting on the post, wondered where to get such sausage. The blogger simply replied “You can probably find these sausages in most Italian pork stores.” Funny, I didn’t know there were “Italian Pork Stores” out there! Italian delis, yes, but a store devoted just to Italian pork? News to me.
So, did you ever note something like I did with the above info, only to leave a salient element like the link to the info out? Very annoying. But I will share with you a link to a truly yummy salad that I’m going to “have” to make.
Yes, this is one where I don’t have everything on-hand, so it’ll have to wait till the next grocery trip but I think you’ll agree it’s a keeper for upcoming hot summer days.