Author Archives: mohawkvalleygirl

More About My Underwear

This isn’t really a post about underwear, but I thought that would make a catchy title. So I guess that makes this a Non-Sequitur Saturday. It could be worse (it could be raining) (somebody always has to say that, you know).

I was going to have another Scattered Saturday post, but looking back I see those posts haven’t gotten a lot of Likes. I guess I’m kind of a positive reinforcement junkie, because I like the Likes. I was about to feel a little sheepish about that, but in fact, why not? I publish a blog for people to read. Naturally I want to write something people will enjoy reading. Writing is an act of communication, after all. Perhaps I should solicit more comments on my blog. Points to ponder.

In comments yesterday the idea came up of doing a poll on how bloggers dress while blogging. Just underwear, commando, naked… For the record I put on a delightfully cute outfit (although perhaps I flatter myself) prior to beginning this post. Um, I did not put on the outfit specifically to blog in, but because people MIGHT be coming over to my house later. Also, I prefer not to spend the entire day in sweats (although I have been known to do so).

My outfit, in case you’d like to know, consists of a denim jumper, white turtleneck and man’s sweater. I got the jumper at the Thrift Store in Ilion, NY recently. The sweater is grey with black and white, purchased at JC Penney in Potsdam, NY well over 20 years ago (purchased by myself for myself; I bought a lot of men’s sweaters back in the day). And on my legs some extremely colorful legging-type pants which I just purchased yesterday. I just bought the bra and underwear yesterday, too. Oh the joy of new undies!

Hey, look at that, I did mention my underwear. Guess it’s not such a Non-Sequitur Saturday after all.

And if anyone would like to comment on what they are wearing or share any thoughts about my underwear, please feel free.

Or I Could Write a Better Blog Post

I feel less ill than I felt yesterday, yet more ill than I felt this morning. However, I am not making this post to whine about my ills (although, as I pointed out yesterday, a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved), but to tell the rest of the story I began yesterday. I think that will work for Lame Post Friday.

To re-cap for those just tuning in: I was at work. I was supposed to do laundry after work but had forgotten detergent and quarters. I called my husband Steven on my first break. I laid out what I saw as my options:

“I can go home, upset the dog, get the detergent and quarters, get a late start on the laundry. That would have the advantage that the detergent definitely would not be frozen.” With the weather we have been having lately, that is a concern. “Or, I can go to the ATM and get some money out.” After all, it was payday, there should be money in the bank. “Or, I can go to Wal-Mart, buy socks and underwear, and bag laundry till next week.”

“Do that,” Steven said. Do I have the world’s best husband or what?

I called my house a few hours later, leaving a message I hoped Steven would get on his lunch break. I told him I was going straight home and to bed after work. I would go commando and find some socks somewhere for Friday. It’s not that I need to inform my husband of my every move. Only I was sure he expected me to stop by his place of employment and say hi after I had purchased the underwear.

I hope none of my followers are hitting the “stop following” button because I’ve been talking about my underwear. This isn’t usually that sort of a blog. I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow and write a nice blog post. Happy Friday, everyone.

It Really, Truly Is a Blogger’s Sick Day

Remember yesterday, when I kind of sort of didn’t wuss out on the blog post? I seem to remember saying that a Blogger’s Sick Day had been a real possibility. Guess what today is.

Oh, if only I could end it there, hit publish and have done with it. Well I can’t. I have felt too awful to write a blog post but not too awful to write at all. I wrote a couple of pages on the play I am working on. It is turning out to be a farce, and it gets sillier as I go. And yet, the silliness is beginning to make sense. Perhaps that is just the virus talking. Whatever.

I was supposed to do laundry after work. I got halfway to work and realized that although I had the dirty clothes (Steven had put them in my vehicle last night), I had forgotten the detergent and the quarters. And my cup of coffee (the coffee was not essential for laundry, but it was going to make the quality of the day ahead of me much better).

Reflecting that a sorrow shared is a sorrow halved while a joy shared is a joy doubled, I told my sad story to one of my work friends. He offered to loan me $20. When I said no, thank you, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, which he insisted I take. He also found me two dollar coins in another pocket, which he pressed on me. He wanted me to at least be able to have some coffee.

There is more to this story, but I am too ill to continue typing. I am going to bed. This has been my Non-Sequitur Thursday post for the week. Thank you for playing.

Warm Enough Not To Wuss

What a wonderful thing is perspective. For example, size 10 looks a whole lot different when you pass it on the way down than it did when you passed it on the way up (and if you have never been in double digit sizes ever, just shut up, that’s all). Similarly, 20 degrees feels a lot better when you pass it on the way up than it did when you were on the way down.

That is how I felt when I left work today and realized I could take a deep breath of the ambient air with no discomfort. I even took off my gloves between my vehicle and the drugstore when I made a stop on the way home. This was awesome!

I had spent a good part of the day pondering my lack of a blog post topic. I did not want to have another Wuss-Out Wednesday nor yet take a Blogger’s Sick Day. The latter seemed a genuine possibility, as the cold temperatures in my place of employment wreaked havoc on my sinuses. I moaned and groaned to myself. I could not complain much out loud because the post-nasal drip was giving me a dreadful sore throat.

Normally, I thought, feeling not a little ill-used, when I have no blog post topic I go for a run or take my dog for a walk and write about that. I could not take my dog for a walk in single digit temperatures. I tried it last Saturday in the teens and it was not a good idea. Her poor little doggy feet were quite uncomfortable. Imagine my amazement when I stepped out of work and it felt WARM! I realized this was only comparatively speaking, but I’LL TAKE IT!

As I walked into and then back out of the drug store, I lamented my fate. This lovely, lovely temperature and I was sure I felt too awful to take my good little dog for a walk. But I knew I could not waste the opportunity. Thursday and Friday are supposed to be frigid. My dog likes to go for a walk. How could I be so selfish as not to take her? For another reason, I needed a blog post.

The irony is not lost on me that I have now spent over 300 words writing about what I am going to write about. I feel this is at least a step forward from writing about not writing. Perhaps I can actually write about the walk tomorrow. Happy Wednesday, everyone.

At Least the Turnover Was Good

In my defense, I have a sinus headache.

I thought I would lead with that instead of making it the headline.  Now I don’t have a headline.  Yes, it’s Tired Tuesday.  I was working on my play during breaks at work today.  I was aware, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I did not have an idea of what to write a blog post about today.  If I was smart I would have spent some time thinking about it.  And here we come to the ugly truth about me.

When I got home I looked in my notebook and found a post I started in January about Munson Williams Proctor Art Institute, which I had visited in December with a sister and a friend.  I thought I could use it, so I typed it in.  Turns out, not so much.  I need to work on it.

I know, I KNOW, just work on it now.  I draw your attention to the first sentence of the post.

The other thought I had was to give another shout-out to Heidelberg Bakery, because my husband went there earlier and bought us bread and a treat.  I thought I could spend at least a couple of hundred words expounding on the delightful experience of eating a chocolate turnover. Yum!

Then again, who wants to read the word “yum” two hundred times?  I’m thinking it is marginally more entertaining to read about me not writing.  But perhaps I flatter myself.  I hope you’ll tune in tomorrow,  Wednesday, when I will strive not to Wuss Out.

Maybe I Should Have Backspaced Over It

That’s it, then. I’ve got the dreaded type-a-sentence-then-backspace-over-it disease. We all knew it was coming. One day I’m saying things like, “I can SO write!” and “I LOVE to write!” The next thing you know, I hate every word that comes out of my meager mind. Many writers have been there. Those that have not… oh, who are you kidding? We’ve ALL been there!

I had thought of doing a Monday Middle-aged Musings about the horridly cold weather. I was going to call it “Mid-Winter Musings.” I don’t really have anything new to say about the cold and the snow. Oh, except for a line I keep repeating that I think the huge snowbanks are a metaphor for my troubles: getting bigger and not likely to melt away any time soon.

Actually, it’s a pretty good metaphor. You look at snow falling and you think, “Aw, that’s nice. It’s pretty.” Because you’re in your warm house looking out, and it has not snowed in a while. Maybe it’s almost Christmas. Maybe you’re out in it, but it isn’t all that cold. You can look at individual flakes and they really are beautiful.

Then it begins to pile up. You have to shovel it and drive through it. It’s cold and the wind is blowing. You track it into your house and it makes a mess. As time goes on, the pristine white banks get all dirty and nasty. Wait a minute, where am I going with this? Life is pretty until it’s not? To hell with that!

I think I’ve talked myself right out of my blues, just from sheer cussedness. You say life sucks? I say kiss my fat ass, it does not! And I’ve written almost 300 words that I do not intend to backspace over. This has got to be the most disconnected post I’ve written yet. For the record, I’m only drinking tea.

Wrist to Turkey Neck

As usual, it is Wrist to Forehead Sunday. It’s not that I want to add to the litany of griping about the cold, but… damn!

I am cooking the turkey I purchased yesterday, in order to run the oven and thus render my house warmer. It is working nicely and smells pretty good too. It was a bit of a process getting it into the oven, as often happens with me.

To begin with, of course I did not plan ahead and thaw the damn thing in the fridge for two or three days. I had it in cold water in my sink all yesterday afternoon and evening. I set the timer and was pretty vigilant about changing the water every half hour, so I felt safe in doing this. By ten o’clock, I thought the bird was on its way to thawdom, so put it in the fridge overnight.

This morning I discovered that it was no such thing. The center was still frozen. I still was not too worried, because yesterday, when I was consulting the marginally helpful Internet for thawing tips, I had discovered that it is not a bad thing to cook a turkey from frozen. Then I thought I had remembered that you aren’t really supposed to rinse the bird, as I have always done and indeed as the plastic wrap said to do. Back to the Internet.

OK, don’t thaw, but take the giblets and neck out. I know a friend of mine once left the giblets inside the bird, still in the little bag, because she didn’t stuff the bird and didn’t know about the giblets (it was her first turkey), so I was not too worried. But I thought the neck might better come out. It was frozen in there. Damn.

I’ll just add than when I search the Internet I usually go to a site called GoodSearch, www.goodsearch.com, because it seems they donate money to charity (should I have mentioned that when I first mentioned searching the Internet? Should I not already know that, seeing as I have been writing for many years? Oh, it IS Wrist to Forehead Sunday).

The sites I was directed to said it was OK to leave the giblets in, as long as they were not in a plastic bag. Well how was I supposed to know if they were in a plastic bag if they were still inside the turkey? Back to the bird. At last I found the giblets in the neck cavity (the irony is not lost on me that the giblets were in the neck end while the neck is stuck up the butt). Not a plastic bag, but I took them out and put them in the pan as I usually do.

I didn’t mind the neck still being in the bird, because I knew it wasn’t in a bag, but there was a plastic doodah I thought I should remove and that was stuck good. Consulting my Goodsearch sources, I was delighted to find a place where the question was not only asked, they referred to it as a “plastic thingy.” Unfortunately, the answers were contradictory.

At last I resorted to rinsing the damn turkey. After all, every other turkey I have ever cooked I have rinsed and I’m not dead of turkey poisoning yet. But how annoying, as rinsing the bird has always been my least favorite part of cooking a turkey (there is that bad moment when it feels like a body, which in fact it is, but I prefer to gloss over my own carnivorousness). And the neck still would not come out.

Finally I said to hell with it and put the turkey in the oven, which by now was plenty pre-heated (although some sources say that if you are cooking something for more than an hour you do not have to pre-heat the oven. I must say the last thing I felt like at that point was to write a blog post about the ordeal. However, that was three hours ago, and now that I have actually written the blog post, I feel much better about everything.

It’s Not the Cold, It’s the Post-Play Letdown

Welcome to another Scattered Saturday. I’d just like to mention that I am in the middle of a HUGE case of post-play letdown. Who knew it could be this bad? It’s worse than my post-Christmas letdown and my post-Christmas letdown could stop a Mac truck. But I did not begin this blog post to whine and cry about my troubles, but rather to give you a brief overview of my day.

I thought today was supposed to be dreadfully cold, like zero and below. Come to find out, that’s tomorrow. Today’s high was supposed to be in the 20s. 28 according to one source, 22 according to another. That sounded like a rather crucial seven degrees to me, but as usual I hoped for the best. It was still single digits when we got up (slept in till six. Woohoo!) but had risen to 11 by the time Steven left for work about 10:20.

I had written my usual postcards and wanted to take Tabby for a walk. Was it really only 11 degrees out? It hadn’t seemed so bad when Steven opened the door to leave for work. I took a chance.

Sometimes you gamble and you lose. My eyelids were cold! That is a very uncomfortable feeling. Not as bad, however, as the guilt I was soon feeling when it became clear that Tabby’s paws were so cold as to be painful for her. I think it wasn’t too bad till after we left the post office, but there was nothing I could do but get the poor pooch home as quickly as possible. I did try to use my mittens to brush her paws temporarily clear of snow. I think she appreciated the effort.

After rubbing Tabby’s paws down and giving her a treat, I thought to head right out to the grocery store and get that out of the way. It was a brilliant plan, only flawed by my failure to remember my purse. I came home and said to hell with it.

I then spent some time cleaning the house, rather ineffectually I must admit. This was a necessity, because as part of my efforts to stave off post-play letdown, I am planning a party for next weekend. Luckily I have a whole week left to work on it.

Much later I broke down and went back to Hannaford. I bought a goodly amount of food, which now I have to cook, or at least chop up and mix together. One must eat after all. First I washed the dishes, so I would have part of the sink free to thaw the turkey in water. Turkeys were on sale for 89 cents a pound. I thought with tomorrow zero and below how nice it would be to have a turkey cooking all day in the oven. I only wish I had remembered to purchase potatoes.

So you see it really has been a Scattered Saturday. Scatter-brained mostly. However, at least I have my blog post written. Perhaps soon I can move on to the bra off, sweats on, wine drinking portion of the day. I hope you’re all having a lovely weekend.

Better to Have Lame and Lost?

Lame Post Friday is meant to be lame. Don’t hate, don’t judge.

I spent my breaks at work today writing my play (the one I mentioned yesterday). I went back to work with a glowing feeling of I LOVE TO WRITE. What are those writers thinking, the ones who say, “Oh, I hate to write but I love to have written.” Yeah, yeah, to have written is nice, but I LOVE TO WRITE (sorry, must put it all in caps).

Of course some days I love it more than others. Which makes me think of running. I love to run. I love the physical act, I love looking around at the scenery while I do it, I love the way it makes me feel. Most of the time. Other times, I do not feel good when I do it AT ALL. Those are the days when at least I am glad to have run. In other words, I shall not judge the other writers (nor hate on them; see first paragraph).

It is beastly cold in the Mohawk Valley today. I think I have written other posts about my brain freezing up when it is very cold. Much like it melts in extreme heat. This Mohawk Valley Girl requires moderate temperatures in which to write, or at least in which to write anything good.

Which, I suppose, explains this blog post. All I can do is say again, don’t hate, don’t judge. Hope to see you on Scattered Saturday.

At Least I Got My Plot

It’s all about the bananas.

I mostly said that to get your attention. I had been about to lead off with how I did not write today’s post while at work (yes, yes, on breaks), because I was writing a play. I thought it might be fun to tell you why I am writing a play.

In the play I was just in at Ilion Little Theatre (yes, still talking about that), we had a lot of laughs. One cast member was especially determined to be silly, Andy Vogel, who portrayed Constable Goddard (I feel free to use his name, because it appeared in the newspaper and on the program after all). During one rehearsal, I, or rather my character, turned around to say something to Goddard, and there was Andy, eating a banana.

“Why were you eating a banana?” I asked him after the rehearsal.

“I thought it would be funny.”

OK, it was funny. I don’t mind an occasional joke of that nature during the rehearsal process. It can break up tension or help you practice concentration. During performance? Oh hell no! I lived in fear. Then I had an idea. I told Andy if he pulled no shenanigans during performances, I would write a play for him with lots of bananas. He was delighted at the notion.

So that is what I am doing. At first I confess I spent hours looking for an idea. I would get one, realize it did not quite fit my needs, get another one, not like it at all… you know how it goes.

To tell you more would give away more of the plot than I want to talk about at this point. If a writer talks too much about what she is writing, sometimes she doesn’t want to write it any more. In fact, already I’ve said too much.

In any case, that is my post about Why I Did Not Write a Post Today. For a Non-Sequitur Thursday, I think it will do.