Typogrhpacil Errosr

One of my favorite typos of all times (that I discovered) was found during the time President Ronald Reagan had melanoma on his nose. The headline said:

“Reagan to have tissue removed from nose.”

***

An ad for Nutri/System Weight Loss Centers:

LOSE

ALL THE WEIGHT YOU WANT

OR JUST $129

***

If you’re from Iowa, you’ll appreciate this.Here’s a report I found in the Wyoming Tribune-Eagle:

“Laura M. Patridge of Cheyenne earned a degree Aug. 6 from Iowa State University in Aims.”

Go Cyclones!

***

“The reaction from New Hampshire, where the state motto is “Live Free of Die,” has been mixed.

In other words, gambling must be illegal there.

Methinks something went awry…read carefully (no typo, just confusion as to what the article’s about):

“DEFICIT: ‘We have removed an ally of al-Qaida,’ the president said in May.

***

In an article about “how to take the worry out of buying furniture”:

“Here’s how: There’s an old saying that goes, ‘where you guy is just as important as why you buy,’ …

Where do you guy?

***

“This is a violation of the commandment ‘Thou shalt not bare false witness.’”

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About a man who committed suicide: “He had many friends in all age groups and a love of life.”

***

“Survivor’s wife faces trail”

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Have you ever taken part in one of these?

“The students of [So-and-So] performed in the spring rectial held at the United Methodist Church…”

***

Mixing cultures:

“bin Laden and his boys have got it wong”

***

The Jebusites, the Hivites, the Levites, and…

“Minorites facing big mental health hurdles”

***

“Study: Patients fails pill routine”

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“New Gillette ice ink possible with higher fees”

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“Feds indentified 64 stem cells”

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Here’s Ronnie again:

“Former President Ronald Reagan and his wife Nancy, right, his daughter Maureen, and Maureen’s husband, Dennis Revell, pose for this family photograph in Los Angles during Christmas of 1998.”

***

“A black footed ferret peaks from a prairie dog burrow after his release on Bureau of Land Management land south of Malta, Mont.”

***

“Rancher proposes switch to bison

“Says they fair better against bears” (or is it “bares”?)

***

In a catalog: “Pastry Scraper: Cut, lift and turn delicate doughs and scrape flower from your work area….”

***

Who says the Messiah didn’t have children?

“He was born June 13, 1927, in Arlington, S.D., the son of Christ and Matilda Christensen…”

(Not only was he the son of Christ, but he was a Christensen!)

***

“Professor won’t to appeal death”

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“Pension fund sin trouble, Congress ponders changes”

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“Former blacktistee gets her star”

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“Discount cards play a big roll in Medicare fight”

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“Girl chews threw tape, escapes”

***

Category: interesting names.

Stacy Jo Stacy

Calla Lily Propp

Merrie Christmas Day — she was born Merrie Christmas Ruben on December 24, 1926, and married Nelson Edward Day.

***

Headline: “Fireworks likely cause of fire”

Text “‘…They had this fire going over here and they probably couldn’t put it out so they took off scarred,’ Young said in a telephone interview.”

***

Yeah, we’re getting sick of those projects:

“Candidates pledge more dam projects”

***

Cinnamon

Crispies

6-ct.

Maid in our Safeway Bakery.

***

In a paper dated 8/3/03 was an ad for a lost Sheltie:

“Lost in the Willow Pond subdivision 9/25/03.”

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“King holds a record 20 Wimbledon tittles…”

***

Adding computers to the Peanuts cartoons:

“Utah firm sues Linus systems”

***

“Driver: Breaks caused accident”

***

Header for an article about Wyoming Territorial Park:

“Territorial prison seeks money”

You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.

***

I’ll be watching for it:

“Lamb producers plan ad campaign

Bank on ‘Meat Lover Know’ slogan”

***

I just hope when I typed these there are no typos in here.

Say What?

This is the first in a series of newspaper clippings that tickle my funny bone.

They’re perhaps not knee-slappers. But they’re curious and cute…I just have a thing about typos.

In this series I’m also going to include a few clips from our local newsrag, the Washington Evening Journal. The reality is that if it weren’t for the police log, our paper would have little in it. Or perhaps there might be more content about actual local news that is worthy of printing. What a concept!

You get to decide if they’re funny or not — to you.

Not all are from the Journal. Some come from the Casper Star-Tribune. A few come from the Sidney [Iowa] Argus-Herald. Some come from the Wyoming Tribune-Eagle. There might be one or two from the Louisville Courier-Journal and the Oneonta Star.

Let us begin.

Small-town & rural life (the incidents may not be that funny but the wording makes me laugh):

Police report: “Fire alarms were reported going off Monday afternoon in the 1100 block of East Washington street in Washington. The Washington Fire Department responded. A burning bagel set off the alarm.”

(Turn your toaster setting down.)

“A caller in the 2600 block of Sockum Ridge Road in Washington reported Saturday afternoon that he was burning and it was getting out of control. The Wayland Fire Department responded.”

(Ouch. That’s gotta hurt.)

“A caller in the 1700 block of 130th Street in Wellman reported Saturday afternoon that she was cleaning her oven and it was on fire. Wellman Fire responded and the fire was extinguished.”

(I guess the “Easy Off” wasn’t so easy.)

“A caller in Riverside reported Sunday afternoon that someone had put a dead coyote in her vehicle. Officers spoke with the caller…”

(The gift that keeps on giving.)

“A caller in the 200 block of West Sixth Street in Washington reported Sunday afternoon that there was a bad odor coming from a neighboring house. Officers responded. The house was being renovated.”

(Febreze will take care of that problem.)

The case of the wayward chihuahua:

“A Chihuahua reportedly kept coming into a fenced-in yard Sunday afternoon in the 600 block of North Fourth Avenue in Washington. The incident was documented.”

“A Chihuahua was reported in a yard in the 700 block of North Fourth Avenue in Washington Thursday morning causing problems. Officers were unable to locate.”

“A Chihuahua was reported running loose Monday afternoon in the 900 block of North Fifth Avenue and was reported ‘terrorizing’ day care children. Officers responded and were unable to locate the owner.”

(Washington’s version of the War on Terror.)

“A caller in the 1000 block of North Eighth Avenue in Washington requested documentation Saturday morning of finding two golf balls in her shrubs. The incident was documented.”

(That golfer needs to take some lessons.)

“A vehicle was reported on Highway 1 in Washington with front-end damage and two flat tires Friday morning.  Officers located the vehicle. [Person], of Wellman was cited for operating a vehicle on the roadway.”

(Did you hear about that new law?)

“A green and white truck reportedly drove up to a house in the 500 block of South C Avenue in Washington and smashed pumpkins Sunday night.”

(Someone needs to send that truck to anger management class.)

“A vehicle was reported traveling in excess of 80 mph into Washington on Highway 92. City units were advised. The vehicle was located in the Washington County Hospital parking lot.”

(Probably faster than an ambulance, and with police escort, too!)

“A caller at North Fifth Avenue and East Seventh Street in Washington reported Monday evening her husband was going through a ‘psychic thing again’ and requested an officer. Nothing physical was happening. Officers reponded. The female stayed with a friend for a night.”

(Those darned psychic things!)

“A 16-year-old girl was reported stuck on a mud road in Wayland Friday evening. …

(She probably ought to wear better boots next time.)

“…requested documentation Monday evening that his 15-year-old daughter hadn’t returned home after school. The caller advised the subject is under ‘China’ and is ordered home after school.”

(I’d have a little trouble getting home, too, if I were under China.)

More to come…

Communicating in Textish

Let me begin this blog today by offering a glossary of terms that will be used in the brief comments that follow, lest the purpose of this discussion be defeated by the very thing I’m writing about.

forum — An arena for discussion on an internet website, often related to a particular subject of interest. For example, the subject is “Cars”. Someone asks, “My Ford breaks down regularly. What do I do?” Another participant  answers, “Get a Chevy.” (Feel free to reverse if necessary, if it makes you feel better about your Ford.)

thread — A line of discussion on a particular topic having to do with the original question asked. The example above would represent a thread about Fords. Or more specifically, about Fords breaking down regularly.

post — The original, individual question, and the individual answers/replies/comments that follow.

texting — A method of writing or typing that utilizes the abbreviation of words in order to save time and effort, primarily through written communication using a cellular phone. For example, “What are you doing?” becomes “Wht r u doing?” “I’m going to the store” becomes “im going 2 th str.” The writer chooses his or her abbreviations — there are no standards, and it’s up 2 the (oops) reader to interpret. For those who text regularly, reading and typing in “text” becomes almost second nature. For those who don’t, it’s like wandering into foreign territory where no one speaks your language.

There’s one particular forum that I read and participate in regularly. Every now and then, one of the younger participants forgets that some readers do not communicate in “text.” I’m convinced that many don’t realize they’re doing anything unusual, because for them, it’s not. “Textish” (my word) has become their language, and it’s as natural to them as drinking Red Bull or walking through the mall with their cell phone glued to their ear.

One of the replies I read yesterday was written in text. I caught myself in the middle of the second sentence, realizing that I no longer had the time nor the energy to decipher it. It’s possible that she was writing from her iPhone or whatever instrument she was using. I figured that if she didn’t have time to write out a readable answer, I didn’t have time to read it and it probably wasn’t worth reading anyway. This was the second time I’d encountered a textish post in a thread, and just as I’d called attention to it then, I added my own special comment to this one, too:

“RU wrtg frm yr cell phn? Hrd 2 read.”

Whether this post will be read and/or comprehended is anyone’s best guess. In the nation of those whose primary mode of communication is the text message (even when you’re in the same room), whether I understand posts in “Textish” or not, isn’t really an issue, because at my age, comments I post are probably not relevant to the fresh generation. It truly is like living in an alien land, sometimes. But that all depends on who I think is the alien.

Meanwhile, I’m planning to stick soon-to-be-obsolete English spelling, unless, of course, I’m texting.

Taser

I participate in an online community where people advise one another on various subjects related to personal growth and the Law of Attraction. The conversations go on and on — and I enjoy it very much.

A young aspiring actor began a thread about an acting job he wanted; he called it “Taser,” which is not its real name. He was expressing frustration about not being able to get a particular role in this project. He was attempting to use the Law of Attraction (LOA) to attract this role, and he didn’t succeed. A lot of the discussion (though not all) centered around how he could get himself to the point where he could get what he desired, and analyzed why he didn’t get this role. There’s a lot more to a discussion about the Law of Attraction than I can describe here, but I’m hoping you’ll understand the point I’m making in this post without understanding the details of the LOA.

Basically, he felt he’d been “doing all the rules” and still didn’t get the role.

It’s pretty frustrating when that happens. It’s frustrating in general — whether you know anything about the LOA or not!

Here are his final words in his introductory post: “The number one role I want… and after several months of going in… and all of this [not getting the role]. It’s over.”

This was my reply to him (which I’ve edited for clarity):

“Can you look at your situation and ask yourself what kinds of blessings you are getting from it? Can you see the lessons in it for you — how, as you learn from it, you will become a stronger person — and that getting the role isn’t as important as becoming a really whole person? I see you as so focused on getting this part and that, and in a way, you (as many of us do) are using the LOA as a tool for you to get what you want, instead of seeing it as a way to practice the depth of joy and satisfaction in life that is what you really, really want, and is what you really, really are.

“That’s why we all go after the things we go after. It’s not that these things are the be-all and end-all in themselves. The lesson is that it’s our happiness and joy in living our present moment, in the midst of all of life, that is far more fulfilling and rewarding than having a part, or getting the relationship, or the car, or the house, or the job….

“And when you pursue that, you will bless every experience that comes your way. It’s fine to be frustrated — oh, I can understand that — how exciting it is to be pursuing what you are pursuing, and how frustrating it is when a particular thing doesn’t go the way you wanted! — but then, know that wrapped up in it is the key to your TRUE role in life — that is, to discover and BE the wonderful person that you are, whether you are in a TV show or not. No doubt out of that energy the best roles that you could ever play will come your way quite naturally.”

*****

Ah, how easy it is to think that what we want is the “thing,” or the “situation,” so that we can finally be happy.

But all we really want is the happiness – joy, reward, depth of satisfation, inner peace — in the first place.

Imagine what it would be like to be happy no matter what you had, no matter what happened? Isn’t that what you want? To enjoy life? To feel fulfilled? To feel good — to know that even when things don’t go your way you’re still really, really OK?

This isn’t about not feeling frustration, being mad about something, being scared, sad, etc., and trying to just be positive no matter what. I’m no shining example of that!

It is, though, about having a perspective on life where you realize that, ultimately, your happiness isn’t dependent upon anyone or anything but yourself, and that it is inside you.

You do everything you do because that’s what you want, thinking that the external thing will finally get you there.

So what happens when it doesn’t happen? You live at the mercy of your external circumstances, letting them take control of you — whipping you around like the Tilt-a-Whirl. Notice how, on the Tilt-a-Whirl (or any other crazy carnival ride), you tense up your body in order to avoid getting thrown around? Now, while that kind of thing may be fun for a few minutes, it’s not fun to be tensed up like that on a daily, hourly basis, for years upon years!

That’s why many of us live like we’re on a roller coaster. When things go well, we’re happy. When they don’t, we’re pretty hard to live with. Some of us are hard to live with a lot of the time. Interestingly enough, that’s pretty much because we have a hard time living with ourselves. We are basing our feelings on everything around us. But all we’re doing is being unkind to ourselves, by allowing someone or something else to be in control of our feelings. The funny part is we’re still the one with the feelings, and we get to choose.

It doesn’t always feel that way. For me, the choice comes in how I choose to see the situation — can I see it as a gift, or do I see it as a curse? I get to pick, and then I get to live in that choice. It feels better to see it as a gift, experience all the feelings of it, indeed — anger, sadness, frustration, disappointment, jealousy — and then move on.

Then life is better. The very thing I was looking for in something else, I now find in me.

I’m in charge.

And things tend to go better. It takes practice. But even just saying, “H-m-m, what can I see in this that’s good?” is really easier than fighting it.

I’m still learning, still practicing. Every opportunity is an opportunity for practice! How can I go wrong? Even the frustrating stuff enables me to practice and get better at finding my own happiness in spite of the frustration…and it just keeps going on and on!

So, “Taser” becomes a blessing, not a curse. Who’da thunk?

Toothbrushes and Other Stuff

For those of you who swing by here now and then, I want to thank you for your faithfulness and diligence. I apologize for the wear and tear you are putting on your clicking fingers every time you surf your way to this blog, only to see the same old comments. Here’s a disclaimer, though: I am not liable for any damage your surfing may have caused. Just don’t press the button so hard next time.

What a summer! Have we had a summer? We’re just barely wringing ourselves out of spring around here! This morning, at 10:19 a.m., the temperature was 59 degrees. What’s that about? Where is this global warming everyone is so terrorized about? Or are we launching into an ice age? (I’ve actually heard that.) So, be prepared for the news report about the blizzard that hit southeast Iowa in the middle of July!

Meanwhile, in order to intermittently reinforce your mouse-clicking behavior (like pulling the lever on the slot machine), I’m going to award you with the jackpot of another blog!

This one is adapted from something I wrote a few years ago — so the state of heretofore-referenced toothbrush technology has advanced even further — just so you don’t think that I am just discovering spin toothbrushes all of a sudden. This would mean that I’d have had to use the same toothbrush for the last several years — and I’m not talking about the same kind of toothbrush, but the same exact toothbrush. A dentist’s nightmare. Or maybe it would be a dentist’s dream!

Here goes:

Have you tried to buy a toothbrush lately? I hope so, be’cause dentists say you’re supposed to replace them every three months. I’ll bet you go out and get one like clockwork — doesn’t everybody? What’s that, you say? New toothbrush every three months? Wow! I wish someone had told me that six years ago! I now change my Polident every three weeks!

When I was a youngster, I used the same toothbrush for eons. I remember one of them: it was yellow with black bristles. Of course, the black bristles might not originally have been black — it could be they’d turned black after being used for so long.

My younger brother Brian says that my elder brother Gene and I taught him how to brush his teeth really fast, and his friends who see him brush his teeth (how intimate!) think it’s hilarious. I don’t think I brush my teeth with any Olympic speed, nor did anyone in dormitory bathroom situations ever comment on my tooth-brushing prowess, so I’m figuring kudos for that skill go to Gene. How do you measure toothbrushing speed anyway? By swipes? By swishes? By strokes? What do dentists say about that? “For best results, brush your teeth at five strokes a second.” Is that one-way or round trip? If round-trip, it’s gotta be two-and-a-half full strokes, no? And do you brush Yardbirds style: “Over Under Sideways Down”? I suggest we reserve this discussion for the dinner table.

Back to buying toothbrushes. What an amazing array of toothbrushes there are to choose from! It boggles the mind. No wonder so many people wrestle with mental illness. We have brushes that spin, wiggle, jiggle, jerk, whip, chop, grate, blend and liquify. We have brushes that tell time. Well, that’s almost true: I was in Safeway the other day drooling over the tooth products selection and discovered a toothpaste dispenser for kids that plays a little tune when you remove the cap. Being the type of person who loves messing around in grocery stores (get a life, Mary Jo), I opened the lid to see what it did. (Who knew one could make a poem out of opening a toothpaste cap?) Well, it started playing. And it played. And played. And it kept on playing. I got tired of holding the thing, and a little panicked because I thought the grocery man around the corner was going to come by and stare at me with the evil eye, and I prayed that the little tune, London Bridge or something, would finally stop. “I broke it!” I said to myself, thinking about all the customers who would stop to pick out their three-month toothbrush replenishment, hear a little tune and wonder where it was coming from, find the toothpaste, open the lid and close it to no avail. My mind took the story even further. I imagined the thing finally dying, an innocent mom (who didn’t try everything out like me) purchasing the product for her child, the disappointed kid opening the lid only to hear nothing, and crying, and the mother telling her kid, “Sorry, we’re NOT going back to the store, so use it anyway!” and the kid throwing a tantrum, breaking lamps and throwing toys. So I opened the lid again, hoping that maybe something in that action would make it quit. Like when you whack on a computer keyboard hoping somehow it will reach Bill Gates and he will finally tell his employees that they’re not going home until they make a software program that actually works without a hundred thousand glitches.

It didn’t stop. London Bridge had just about disintegrated completely and was floating down the Thames, right upstream of Southwark. Desperate, I finally had an insight: read the instructions. On the front of the package it said, “Plays music for 70 seconds.” Relieved, I put the toothpaste back on the shelf and walked away, thinking about how many times that tube of toothpaste would one day soon be sitting on the counter by the bathroom sink, playing London Bridge to an empty bathroom for 50 seconds as the tune played itself out after the kid finished brushing.

So which kind of toothbrush is better? You have brushes with long bristles on the outside and short ones on the inside. You have those with the little rubber pick on the end designed to help you get stuff out from between your teeth. You have some that visually let you know when it’s time to buy a new brush. You have others that are alleged to “reach” better than others. You have different bristle consistencies. You have toothbrushes of different sizes to accommodate different mouths. Dentists sometimes advise me to get a kid-sized toothbrush. Though that might be an insult, I’m grateful that I don’t have to add “a big mouth” to my list of personal liabilities. But it also means that if I select that kind of brush, my options are pretty limited, and perhaps even a little embarrassing: Care Bears, Hot Wheels, Strawberry Shortcake, Spongebob Squarepants,  Spiderman, Scooby-Doo — which means that there are advantages to having a big mouth!

How about a toothbrush that talks? “Ouch. You are hurting me.” “You have now brushed long enough.”  “Please do not insult me by using Crest.” “Please do not rinse me in the commode.”

Other ideas for inventors who work for Proctor & Gamble:

Replaceable bristles. Interchangeable handles with designs to fit one’s mood. Medicated toothbrushes containing hangover relief, caffeine, or prozac. Brushes with hose attachments so you can power-wash your teeth. How about pre-loaded toothbrushes, or toothbrushes that fill themselves when you press a button on the handle?

When will they invent a toothbrush or paste that works so well you only have to use it once a week, month, or year? Some people think that’s how you’re supposed to use them. Think how much money you could save if you had no teeth? It wouldn’t matter how much time passed: three months, six months, six years! Little Johnny: “Look Ma, no cavities!” Ma: “Look, son, no teeth!”

Time to venture away from the subject of toothbrushes, having been reminded of the ancient commercial of my idyllic childhood: “Look, Ma, no cavities!” Those were the good old days, when little boys in commercials looked like Howdy Doody with red hair and freckles and talked like Beaver Cleaver; ads told it like it is without all the clever hype that leaves you remembering the commercial but not the product; babies wore cloth diapers and plastic pants; Wonder Bread helped build strong bodies 12 ways; you could see the USA in your Chevrolet; you got a cup-and-a-half of flavor in every cup of instant Maxwell House; you had three selections of toothpastes, all in mint flavor; M&Ms melted in your mouth, not in your hands, came in only one flavor, and had two shades of brown; pop came in bottles out of which many other people had once drunk and a 16-ounce bottle was huge; pop can tops were removable; water was served in restaurants in cone-shaped disposable cups that fit into brushed-stainless-steel holders and everyone actually got water; Dixie cups came in red and blue with a white border around the top; you could buy huge blocks of ice from a vending machine; there were only about five flavors of ice cream; dishwashing liquid bottles had the “snip-top” cap; laundry soap boxes contained a free towel or a goblet (remember Dash?); and gee, about the only thing that hasn’t changed is Reynolds Wrap which, I suppose, is still oven-tempered (scrunch, unscrunch) for flexible strength.

And summers were actually hot from July until mid-September.

By the time you finish reading this, it will be time for you to get a new toothbrush.

Bugs in the Eyes

I was inspired by some friends who shared a message with me that I’d like to pass on to you in my own words.

The message begins with this question:

“Why do dogs like to ride in cars with their heads out the window, when they get bugs in their eyes?”

Now, I know what it’s like to ride along and get bugs in my eyes. Riding a bike’ll do that. Bugs in eyes, grasshoppers slamming into me on the old dirt road out in the country…how I loved that road when the tracks were dry, flat and smooth. I was glad that they didn’t gravel it. The occasional collisions with insects didn’t stop me.

Why? Well, dogs do it for the thrill of the ride!

Life is the ride. The wind is the thrill. The bugs are the “contrast” — the things that happen that we don’t particularly like. But without the things we don’t like, we’d never really expand and grow, would we? We’d just sit in our chairs in our boring jobs, staring at a computer screen, mouths agape, robotically doing whatever we did. No desires, no contrast, no motivation to see things change for the better.

A dull, unfulfilling, unrewarding life. Of course, we wouldn’t know the difference, would we?

Do you want that? Do I want that?

Much as I think (all too often) that I wish my problems and bad feelings would just disappear, I know that without the problems (that I like to re-word as CHALLENGES), I would not have the reward and deliciousness of seeing them solved.

It’s like the feeling you get when you just ate a taco laden with hot sauce, or a super-spicy Szechuan Chinese dish. Doesn’t it feel like your palate is cleansed, somehow? Think about how discomfort makes us cleanse ourselves so that we feel comfort again. There’s the “ahhhh” feeling. Crying can do that. “I feel cleansed,” some say. Sometimes a good scream from one’s very gut can work. I find that as I ALLOW my feelings to just BE FELT without ruminating about the problem and obsessing about it and judging myself and turning it over and over in my mind, I let them pass through and I feel better. Ahhh. That was done. Whew. That feels good! Had I not had the “bad” feelings, I’d not have had the contrasting good feelings. (So are “bad” feelings really bad? Hmmmm!)

It’s sure a lot quicker than trying to not feel the feelings at all.

And good old Rover knows all about this. He doesn’t mind the bugs, because he loves the thrill lots more.

Enjoy your bugs, because the thrill of life is worth it. It really is.

Interesting…

I’ve had two people I don’t know send me comments on my blog about “drugs.” if you don’t know what “tags” are, let me explain.

When I type up a new blog, on the same page where I type there is a section entitled, “Tags.” Key words. If someone is looking for an article or blog on a subject like “drugs,” they type in (somewhere) the word “drugs,” and somewhere, my blog will pop up. Maybe in a list of potential blogs that talk about drugs. I’ve not been on the reading/searching end of things, so I can’t tell you exactly what that process is.

But obviously, people are looking up information on “drugs.” Apparently, a couple wonderful people I don’t know read my blog on drugs — the silly diatribe about buying meds that contain pseudoephedrine — and they liked it, or at least thought it was interesting.

That makes me feel good, even if the information they wanted wasn’t quite what they expected. I shall do the same with this blog, and someone will surf their way here and read about how “tags” work. Most will probably already know.

So hi, all you people interested in drugs! How are you today?

I’m grateful for certain drugs. I’m not quite so grateful that some of them are hugely expensive. When you don’t have medical insurance, the prices of some of these are so incredibly expensive that you’d swear they must contain pure gold and other highly expensive materials.

I wonder how much it really costs to research, develop, manufacture, market and distribute a drug? I really would love to know where every dollar goes. I suppose there will be a few who don’t want me to know.

Maybe it’s better that I don’t.

One thing is certain: they have their place. Their value depends on how necessary they are for one’s well-being. Fortunately, there are resources that make one’s ability to obtain pharmaceuticals at a lower price, for those who are unable to afford them. Even though I can moan and groan about the pharmaceutical state of affairs in the USA, I can also be grateful for the help that’s available to us if we know how to look for it.

And we don’t even have to move to Canada.

Diary of Another Almost-Perfect Day

A pretty decent day, it was!

Worked on internet pursuits for a bit. Played with cat. Wrote on Facebook. Ate. Puttered around.

Pulled weeds in flower garden, threw balls – basketballs, footballs, misc. random balls, and frisbee into shed. Tried to throw through foot-wide gap in doors — missed most throws. Duh. Picked up branches. Threw in pile behind shed.

Laid out circle of bricks for fire ring. Looked at pile behind shed and wondered how wooden Christmas Santa decoration would burn: red and white? Ho-ho-ho!

Got out lawn mower. Examined lawn mower for loose parts — top plastic cover rattles. Located new machine screw. Put in hole and tightened. Wired front part of piece on, wrapped around spark plug holder. Flimsy. Will do for now. Didn’t help much. Oh, well.

Mowed for a while. Twenty dollar mower knew its way around yard; belonged to former owner. Took back brand new mower to save money and buy this one from garage sale two doors down. Could be a dumb decision. Mower spluttered and missed, threatened to quit. I pushed her as far as she would go, then she died.

Time for repair — probably a tune-up, balance and sharpen blade…hope it doesn’t add up to price of brand new mower!

Pulled weeds and mulched part of flower garden. Need to buy lots more cedar mulch!

Fetched child. Dropped off at Y. Came home. Messed around on computer; fielded phone calls from friends of child. Tired of answering phone; went to Y to get child. Child not there. Called child’s friends’ mom. Child’s friends at Y? No, not there. Checked library. Probably walking home.

Children home.

Lectured children on calling parents.

Another child arrived. They played, outdoors, indoors, upstairs, downstairs. “Dibs on computer,” said Son. “I get first dibs forever. I bought computer with hard-earned money,” said Mom.

(Computer given to Mom, don’t tell Son.)

Cat taken upstairs, put in little nest. Kids downstairs, cat upstairs, wailing. Cat rescued.

Supper ready for son and one friend. Kids running around, rescuing baby bird, digging up worms. Need knife to cut up worm. Take worm to bird, bird allegedly eats some, then sits with mouth open wide. Mother and father bird, do you know where your child is?

Son and friend eat. I eat. Kids play upstairs and in yard. TV blares to no one.

I go back to yard. Pull more weeds, clear thousands of maple squirter helicopters out of garden. Throw down mulch. Sun goes down. Kids at Lincoln School playground; it’s getting dark. I drive to get kids, pull up on cement right into playground.

Return home, kids grab coats, jeans, stuff left here over last two weeks. One boy walks, I drive two home.

On way home, I stop, accelerate, squeal tires, make Son laugh, I laugh, too.

Get to driveway — gravel. I skid tires, spit gravel. We laugh.

Throw handfuls of red mulch on front garden, think of fires in fire ring in summer, people sitting around, laughing, talking, light of fire flashing on shadowed faces, marshmallows toasting. Maybe a song; a joke. Summer. Ahhhh, perfect. Nothing like it. Think about wood behind shed and dream.

Day not over yet — summer not yet begun, more lawns to mow, mulch to throw, flowers to grow, fires to glow, friends to know.

Time to go!

Mysterious New Family Member

An alien, ghostly, mysterious creature has taken residence in my home.

Sometimes I feel like I’m being watched. This sighting has confirmed my suspicions. I believe the creature comes from the planet Jupiter. Do you suppose the medication bottle tempts this dark creature? Or does it contain an antidote to the terror that is soon to strike the big house on the corner of 4th and Van Buren?

The case of the lost eyeballs

Someone is watching…

Beware…

He might just be looking for you!

Drugs

In my very minor experience with allergies, there is this issue of obtaining medicine. Benadryl’s a pretty good one. The recommended dosage is two tablets. I take only one, and even with that dosage, I’m ready for nap about an hour after taking it. It makes for a good sleep aid, if one is so inclined. If I had my druthers, I’d take one that doesn’t make me drowsy, but most of the non-drowsy stuff available off the shelves doesn’t really work that well.

I wrote to a friend about this a while back. She’d advised that I take an antihistamine. Here’s my response:

“The unclehistamine that works well for me is Claritin D. Of course, you’ve gotta go to the counter and get it and swear on a stack of bibles and give up your life and make a pact with the devil that you will not use it for making meth. You also have to show your driver’s license; leave a tooth impression; have them take your finger, toe and elbow prints; sign, seal and deliver your honor in blood; cross your fingers 13 times while saying, ‘There’s no place like home,’ present a copy of your birth certificate; give your mother’s maiden name or that of your favorite pet; recite your social security number backwards; send a self-addressed, stamped envelope to the charity of your choice (what they’ll do with it I have no clue); play three bars of ‘I’ve Been Working on the Railroad’ on your cell phone; take lessons on how to swallow a pill; prove that you actually have allergies (even though you’ve been sneezing and dripping snot and tears all over the counter); prove that you have not taken any multivitamins for the last 64-1/2 hours; and inhale the gas of five helium balloons and sing the National Anthem while doing jumping jacks and eating five powdered donuts, all in 30 seconds.”

So I don’t take Claritin D.