Category Archives: humor

Just an Expression

For today’s Friday Lame Post, I offer another edition of Cliches Revisited.

“It’s like living in a fishbowl.”

People usually say this about places with large windows and no curtains. My first response is, you’ve probably never lived in a fishbowl, so how would you know? It seems to me that living in a fishbowl would be a whole lot more boring, even if it had one of those little castles or sunken ships. In your average living room, picture window or not, there is usually at least a television set. All a fish can do is swim around. They can’t even run out for a loaf of bread as many of us can. The fish don’t seem to mind, but then I don’t know what a fish thinks.

I know, it’s Just an Expression. I realize it means, “I feel as if everybody can watch my every move!” Oh, get over yourself. Most of us are not that interested.

Next cliche: “Kissing a smoker is like licking an ashtray.”

I have never personally licked an ashtray, but I would think that the consistency is probably much different from the mouth of a smoker. Hello! Glass, metal or plastic covered with ashes… the mouth of somebody you presumably like well enough to kiss.

I know! Just an Expression. Look, people can feel free to kiss or not whoever they want, as far as I’m concerned (as long as the other person wants to be kissed). But just say, “I don’t want to kiss a smoker.” You do not need to engage in inaccurate hyperbole (or is hyperbole inherently inaccurate and I am guilty of redundancy?).

Oh dear, those were the only two cliches I thought about while I was running this morning. I think three would make a better post. Ooh, there’s a cliche, “Third time’s the charm.”

What is it about the number three? Three wishes. Three Little Pigs. Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau. This is not a cliche I can argue with. Three is, apparently, a very good number. The best I can do is buck the system and not deconstruct three cliches. Thank you for playing. And have a nice Friday.

My Philosophy is You Have to be Philosophical About It

My plan was to write two posts today. I intend to give blood at work tomorrow. Sometimes my body reacts badly to that and all I can do is lie down and watch the room spin. So I thought, I’ll write my Friday Lame Post on Thursday as well as Thursday’s post, type both in and be ahead of the game. I’ve done it before. I can rock this.

I even had some pretty good half-baked philosophy for Lame Post Friday. I had no ideas for Thursday, but there’s always Non-Sequitur Thursday. I sat down and wrote two paragraphs for Friday. That I wasn’t so thrilled with. I spent the rest of my breaks at work solving Cryptogram puzzles from a Dell Puzzle Book or working on the crossword in the newspaper with a friend of mine.

Well, Thursday’s post was still going to happen. I had plans to go home and plant my tomatoes. I could do a gardening post. Well I may yet do that. For right now… well, let’s just say the tomatoes are not planted yet and at least I didn’t cry.

I can’t, I positively can not keep writing posts about Why I Can’t Write a Post. Well, apparently I can. The question is will anybody keep reading them?

Big Plans for June

The Blog Runner is doing a Juneathon. He is a blogger I read sometimes (I don’t read anybody every day. Sorry, fellow bloggers). He runs a lot more than I do, by the way. Participants in a Juneathon, if I have this right, do something physical every day in June and write about it. This is the sort of challenge that appeals to me. The Blog Runner is doing it to prepare for a particular race.

In my case, the only race I have on the horizon is the DARE 5K in August. If I keep going at the rate of 3 or 4 runs a week I can get there handily. Come to that, I could probably run a 5K now. It would just take me a while. And the hill in the middle of this particular 5K would not be any fun at all.

Moreover, I’m not concentrating on physical fitness this month. June 6 marks one year of working on the novel I vowed I would finish (I have started MANY novels that I have not yet finished)(point and laugh if you must but how many novels have YOU finished?). I decided June would be All About Novel, preparing for my week vacation at the beginning of July. If I work hard for 30 days while at work (um, on breaks, I mean), I should be geared up to really make progress for nine straight days off.

So I commented on the Blog Runner’s post praising the idea of Juneathon but declining to participate. Then I realized I had gone for a run June 1 but had NOT worked on my novel.

In my defense, I had worked on said novel for the previous eight days. This is better than I’ve done in a while. One thing I try not to do is take days off. One thing I have been doing a lot lately is taking a day off.

June 2, 3 and 4 (today) I worked on the novel. I ran again July 3. So I could do a Novel Juneathon having missed one day or a Fitness Juneathon having missed two. Or I could do some push-ups and sit-ups before bed and only have missed one. One thing I can’t do is go back in time and not miss any days. And one thing I am unlikely to do is both kinds of Juneathon. Just saying.

However, a Julyathon for fitness is possible. I don’t think I will write about my physical activities every day, but every third or fourth day I can recount what I’ve done so far. That will leave space for posts about Mohawk Valley adventures, cheesy movie reviews and, of course, my beloved Lame Post Friday.

But first I’ll try to get through June.

Watching for Skunks and Psychos

Is there any better feeling for your legs than the cool-down walk after a run? I suppose there could be, but I’m not familiar with it.

Steven has two early shifts this week, so I thought I’d take advantage of the early rising and get a run in before the heat of the day. It only partially worked out for me.

I should have suspected the temperature would not be cool when it did not seem to cool down yesterday evening. I put the fan in the bedroom window, realized the air coming in was warmer than the air already here, took the fan out and shut the window. Of course I’m used to warm nights. I’m pre-menopausal (oh shut up, it’s a perfectly natural thing that women go through and I’m not going to pretend I’m not middle-aged). I never know if it’s the weather or hormones. My trick is to tell myself it’s hormones, then I wait quietly for the feeling to pass. It took me years to realize the benefits of waiting quietly, but we’ll save the half-baked philosophy for Lame Post Friday.

It was 3:38 when I left the house. I’m still a little nervous about running before dawn. Today being garbage day I was more wary of skunks than psychos. As I turned onto German Street, I thought I smelled one. Yikes. Um, skunk, not psycho. I don’t know what a psycho smells like.

A note about my breathing. I have dreadful sinus problems. I usually cannot follow the “in through your nose, out through your mouth” dictum, because my nasal capacities are not usually up to it. My sense of smell is unreliable. Sometimes I smell things that other people do not. Sometimes I can’t smell things that other people can. It is most inconvenient. On today’s run, I tried a nose inhale every so often to check for skunk odor. I didn’t smell anything after the initial whiff, although I later caught a nice floral scent.

It was a very lonely run. Block after block of no cars, no people and no lights on in houses. I passed a young man walking on my street almost as soon as I left my house. Heading home after a hard night out? Or a hot one night stand? These are the speculations that add interest to my runs. I either saw him two more times during my cool-down walk or I saw two similarly dressed young men. If it was the same man, perhaps he was out for a long walk pondering a problem. Maybe it was a ghost. How cool would that be?

The mugginess started getting to me early on. There was barely a breeze to relieve me. I felt a little ill-used, running in the dark and not having some cool air to run in. I cheered myself up by thinking about the bottle of water waiting on my deck for me and the cool shower after my walk.

I kept an eagle eye out for skunks. Psychos did not concern me as much, although naturally I watched for them too. I saw an animal cross the sidewalk way ahead of me. A cat, I assured myself. As I approached a trash can and bag, the rustle of an animal startled me. I hear my feet scrape on the sidewalk as I stopped short. A cat flew out from behind the bag and across the lawn. Definitely a cat. Phew!

It was really not a problem to keep running. I can’t say I reached the “I can rock this” stage, though. I am skeptical of my ability to rock anything prior to four in the morning. Then again, if I keep up these early morning runs, maybe I’ll surprise myself.

Dining Dilemma

Why is it that as soon as you make up your mind to save some money, the only thing that sounds good for dinner is take-out?

As I write this (using ballpoint pen and a spiral notebook) (I’ll type it into my computer later, if this turns out to be usable) (and I guess it did; always feel so time-warpy when I write these things), I am sitting in the laundromat watching my laundry tumble and getting hungry. I certainly do not have the energy to go home and fix something worthy of a cooking post. I question if I even have the wherewithal to manage scrambled eggs or grilled cheese. A raw cheese sandwich? Can’t face it.

In the meantime, I have a blog post to write and I’m too hungry to think about anything beyond how hungry I am. Before I started writing this, I felt my brain was so fuzzy from lack of nourishment that I would not be able to write anything at all. Proved myself wrong on that one. I daresay I’m wrong about not being able to fix anything to eat. I could probably go home, pull out a frying pan and whip up something grand. Then I could write a blog post about it. I am da woman!

Or is that just a hunger-induced delusion?

There are a number of very find dining establishments handily located relative to where I am now. In fact, we can look out the window at one of them and get the phone number to order ahead on my cell phone. We don’t have a menu, but I happen to know they have delicious garlic wings and antipasto salad. Will we succumb to temptation? Tune in tomorrow to find out.

Just kidding, I won’t make you wait (as if the issue was even in doubt to begin with). While I was writing the previous paragraph, Steven made the call to Sorrento’s. Hurry up, laundry!

Ghost of a Post

Well, here I am late in the day on Wrist to Forehead Sunday and my wrist is truly on my forehead because I don’t have the ghost of a post or of an idea for a post. Ooh, the first part of that rhymed. If only I could write a poem about my dilemma, all would not be lost. I used to be pretty good at poetry. OK, I was never really good, but I wrote some silly rhyming stuff in high school that amused some people.

I haven’t a ghost
of idea or post
on Wrist to Forehead Sunday.

I’ve blogged for three years
in spite of my fears
that this would happen one day.

I worked on my home
and drove into Rome
It’s been a very fun day.

If I was wittier
instead of prettier
I could joke and make it a pun day.

I jogged round the town
and didn’t fall down
So it was also a run day.

Now I will finish
‘fore my readers diminish
and try this again on Monday.

OK, that really wasn’t very good at all, and I’m sure many people who know what I look like are wondering just what I think I’m prettier than. Still, one must admit, this is something different. I think a bad post is better than no post at all. Do others agree? Discuss amongst yourselves.

A Good Run to Start the Weekend

Yes, it’s Saturday Running Commentary. I’m not getting to it just after the run, but I don’t despair of thinking of things to say. It is good to be back in the running game. My only regret is that I’ve been running three times this week and I’m still not skinny yet. Once again, our instant gratification society has done me dirt. But that’s half-baked philosophy suitable for Lame Post Friday. Today I’m going to write about my run.

We got up at 5:30, representing a half-hour of sleeping in for me. Let’s hear it for Saturday. I had a cup of coffee then thought it would be a good idea to get out running before I got hungry. After all, if I ate I would have to wait for it to digest. Plenty of time to talk myself out of it.

It was 51 degrees out, according to our thermostat, a good temperature for a run. I laid out a sweatshirt, in case I wanted it for my cool down walk. Off I went. Ah, not too cold at all. My hands might not even get numb.

I turned right onto German Street, since I had most recently gone left. I decided no hills. I need to conserve my energies for some things I’m hoping to do later. Then I saw a dog almost two blocks ahead of me. He was a jumpy boy. Normally it would take me a long time to catch up to a pedestrian that far ahead of me, but you know how dogs like to stop and sniff. I like to stop and pet a dog when I run, but it’s best if you are going in opposite directions. Then you’re out of the dog’s range before you drive him nuts.

So I turned up Main Street, going towards a hill. It’s a challenging hill, but there are two places you can turn off it. I could just go up the first third (the turning off places are not spaced at thirds, but I like to think of them that way). Part of the street is closed to traffic, because the road is kind of collapsed. The last time I was there, a pedestrian could get by. I would try it.

Up the hill. Oof, I am not yet used to hills again. I remembered a drill sergeant’s advice: just look at your feet and shuffle up that hill. There was a mound of dirt blocking the closed part of the road, but a small space seemed clearly left for pedestrians. I went in the space, skirting the collapsed part of the road. I have to say, it didn’t really look like a good place to be. I might not run that way again, which is too bad, because there are not that many hills in Herkimer.

Down the hill I went, on Steuben Street. I saw a lady setting up for today’s Village Wide Garage Sales.

“Here’s a place I can come check out later,” I said.

“Don’t miss it,” she said. I probably will miss it, but from what I’ve seen there are plenty of people out looking for sales.

I managed to make my 24 minutes, which is the time I got to last Sunday. I felt pretty terrific when Tabby and I set off on our cool down walk. I didn’t need the sweatshirt. My layer of sweat felt healthy, as if I had sweated out the bad stuff. Bring on the rest of the weekend!

Fill in the Blank

I have been suffering a lot lately from Writer’s Blank. I believe I explained some time ago that I rarely suffer from Writer’s Block, a disease which many people profess does not exist (it’s more controversial than global warming or evolution) (oh dear, should not have brought those up; stay off politics!). I more regularly suffer from Writer’s Blank.

I think Writer’s Blank is a lot more descriptive. I sit down at my notebook or computer (or in the olden days my typewriter) and NOTHING HAPPENS. My mind is blank. The page remains blank. Contrast this state of affairs with Writer’s Block. The words are there, but they can’t get out. I’ve had that, too. Sentences form themselves in my not blank mind, but there they stay. Are they truly blocked or is it more a state of paralysis? Discuss amongst yourselves.

Are you done with your discussion? Sometimes it is pretty obvious why the words can’t get out. It is because the inner critic is in my ear shouting, “You can’t put that! It’s stupid! It’s boring! Nobody wants to read that!” This malady will occasionally manifest as write-something-down-then-immediately-cross-it-out, a symptom I exhibit on a regular basis.

So, yes, I am offering Yet Another Post About Why I Can’t Write a Post. How embarrassing. Tomorrow I hope to go running first thing in the morning and come up with some Running Commentary. Then it is off in search of Mohawk Valley Adventures. My mind will not remain blank for long! As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned. Happy Friday.

Not Overboard Yet

Today’s post actually took place before yesterday’s post. At first I felt a little silly about that and wondered if I shouldn’t have made it all one big post. Then I remembered it is Non-Sequitur Thursday. Perfect! On with the post!

Saturday Steven got out of work early enough to do something fun. I had seen in the paper that Ilion Farmer’s Market was selling flowers and herbs, which I wanted for my container garden. Tabby is welcome at the Farmer’s Market. Our plan was set.

We got there around three. Right away we saw the small display of plants, but first we went into the barn to browse. A few of the vendors had changed, but the historic barn’s atmosphere was still warm and welcoming. Tabby found all kinds of interesting places to sniff, and a few people petted her. I did not let her go near the cafe. I may have to come by without Tabby sometime and enjoy a little of that good food.

Back out at the plant table we chose basil, dill and two different flowers. I don’t know what they’re called (have I mentioned today that this is not a real gardening blog?), but the big blooms were red, pink and white while the little blooms were purple. The herbs looked very healthy. I sure hope I can keep them that way.

Jim Parker, the folk artist who runs the Farmers Market, told us they would be getting in more plants. I said I might be back next week. I’ll try not to go overboard (as I said yesterday I tend to do with my container garden), but what’s wrong with leaning out a little over the rail?

Sunday we decided to supplement our Farmers Market purchases with a trip to T & J’s Fruits and Vegetables in Herkimer. I’ve stopped there for produce many times, most recently finding a wonderful hyacinth for my mother’s Easter present. I had noticed their greenhouse was full. All kinds of choices. They even had the leaves that grow straight up (I’m not describing them very well, but perhaps you know what I mean).

“That’s what you need for containers,” I told Steven. “You want the thrill, the fill and the spill.” I said it with gestures, demonstrating the contribution of each “ill.” I did not purchase any thrill, but I found some fill and spill. The fill included marigolds, and the spill some little yellow flowers I of course do not know the name of (some of you are probably surprised I recognized the marigolds).

As I said, I haven’t gone overboard yet. But it’s early days. We’ll see what the weekend brings.

Me and My Boring Deck

Every year I make a container garden on my deck. And every year I go overboard. I purchase more plants than I have containers for and by the time I’ve found a place for every plant, we have a hard time finding places to put chairs when we have people over. Still, it looks nice and I get a nice sense of accomplishment when its done.

This year it seems that sense of accomplishment is far away and receding. I have done some work in the yard (perhaps you read my blog post about it). I have purchased a few plants and some dirt. Oh, I’ve been good. In my determination not to go overboard this year, I don’t think I bought enough stuff. That’s OK, greenhouses all over the Mohawk Valley have more. A short trip and I’m set.

I suppose I shouldn’t feel too bad about my so far boring deck. After all, it is best to wait till all danger of frost has passed. I’ve been told to don’t plant before Memorial Day weekend. Why, that was last weekend.

If only I had spent the weekend hard at work. I did get a little done on Monday (when the only blog post I could manage was a Middle-aged Musings Monday). Three largish containers now have flowers in them and half the dill is in a container (I hope to plant dill in the yard as well. Oh, ambitions, they always get me in trouble). Then the sun started to get to me. I have kind of a sensitivity in that area. The rest would have to stay in their original little plastic pots for now.

I promptly forgot to water any of it. Oh dear. That is a cruel thing to do to pretty flowers and delicious herbs. I poured a lot of water on them Tuesday after work, as soon as the deck seemed shady enough (I’ve been told to don’t water plants in direct sunlight). I watered them again Wednesday morning (today), just to be on the safe side.

So my deck is still boring, is what I’m saying. How appropriate is that for Wuss-out Wednesday? I will have more blog posts about my container garden as the work progresses.