Category Archives: bargage


This weekend’s project is cleaning out and organizing the attic.  I’ve put it off for way too long.  In the interest of feeling more in control of  my life as well as looking forward at the prospect of my children resenting me after I’m gone, I decided it was TIME.

As I was rooting through “the Kids’ Corner,” I found myself rapt in memories of times long ago, good memories.  Memories of a simpler time.  Looking at special baby clothes that I’d saved made me hungry to hold a baby.  Not just any baby, but one of mine.  Michael and Jennifer were two of the World’s Greatest Babies.  Both were beautiful beyond imagination and joys to take care of.  Sure there were fussy times and scary times as there are with all babies.  But looking back, I’m beyond positive that I would do it all again.   Of course, times were different then.  There were not so many conveniences.  There were no vibrating baby chairs that would lull the baby to sleep while Mama took care of other things.  There were no microwaves to heat bottles.  There were disposable diapers but I was as stubborn then as I am now.  (And environmentally conscious too)  but real diapers didn’t work well for me and my babies each had the wicked diaper rashes as proof.  I caved in the interest of my children’s bums and used the cursed all-absorbent land-filling disposables.

But back to my thoughts of simpler times.  How did everything get so complicated in a span of just 20-30 years?  Everything has become so specialized.  Used to be if you were going to cook something, you just did it.  You grabbed a pan and turned on the stove.  Now there are tons of different kinds of cookware depending on if you’re grilling, nuking, using a convection oven, toaster oven, whatever.  It’s become a big old circus.  And yet so many of us opt for grabbing something out of the freezer, throwing a paper towel over it and blasting the living shit out of it in a microwave.  That includes vitamins, enzymes and all the other things that are supposed to be in food.  All in the interest of saving time.  And ultimately starving our bodies of much-needed stuff like nutrients.

Do you remember when soap was soap?  It was something you washed with.  Now when something needs cleaned, your choices are endless.  You have bath and shower gels, body bars, pump sprays, scrubs, liquids, lotions, beads, oils, scented, unscented, emollients, exfoliators, with and without sunscreen, vitamin-enriched, organic, yadda badda bing. I could go on but I won’t.

Used to be if you had a headache, you simply took a freakin’ aspirin.  Now, omigawd, by the time you decide what to take, either your headache is a) gone or b) has escalated to migraine level which necessitates a whole ‘nother kind of pain reliever with about a gazillion other options.

Yeah well, I was just taking a break from the attic thing and needed to let some thoughts out.  Back to the sifting and sorting.  Anyone interested in six large boxes of slightly used stuffed animals?


(If you came here looking for anything slightly resembling humor, encouragment, enlightenment or something of merit,  do yourself a favor and shoot yourself in the foot instead.  Consider yourself warned.)

I noticed recently that the fact that I’m feeling very restless and unmotivated  could very well be the direct result of not having written much here in the past months.  Too much baggage in mah head.  I’ve totally lost sight of the reason I started blogging in the first place.   This therapeutic cleansing of the clutter clogging up my skull was the coolest cure I could come up with. (check out the alliteration, literary bitches!) And I’m still not exactly sure why I’ve quit slowed down to almost a trickle.  Yeah, I’m addicted to the instant gratification and the convenience (not the word I want) of places like Facebook.  It’s quick and easy to jot off a few words off the top of my head a few times a day as opposed to sitting in front of this BIG white box screaming at me to fill with whatever is swimming around in my brain. I come here at random intervals and am filled with a compassion much like sitting facing an old dear friend who says nothing but whose eyes are filled with a look of questioning.  I’m not sure what my friend needs or wants me to say and not sure what I’m willing to share.  Maybe not so much willing but wondering if what I have to say is what the friend wants to hear.  Is this what writer’s block feels like?  I’ve been blogging nine months short of 5 years and don’t recall ever being at a loss for blog fodder.  That really doesn’t sound like such a long time.  In reality, though, it has felt like such a big part of my life for so long that it seems much longer.

This could also be explained by the fact that my life feels to be at a standstill.  The winter thing… not just the season of the year but nearing the “winter” stage of my life.  Many things that have happened during the last year or so have forced me to slow down, made it necessary for me to let go of some “things” that kept me going full force.  We all age.  Normally it’s so gradual that we barely notice the changes.  Being that I’ve never been one to do things in a normal way, (and not always by choice) it so happens that my “gradual” was more of an instantaneous thing.  Not that it happened overnight, of course.  A bunch of events occurring and overlapping created a kind of chain reaction which resulted in a kind of head-on collison.  Much like a snowball rolling down a hill into a brick wall.  Working all that gawdawful overtime for so long caused me to get behind on so many things and that shit doesn’t just go away.  It accumulates and that glob becomes a mighty big monster.  And working long hours for a year without good sleep takes a toll on a body.  I’m not even going to address how it affects one’s state of mind.  It’s all connected.  Throw in a broken bone, a kidney stone and a drop in income (post OT) and see that glob monster?  It still doesn’t go away.  Then, gloriously, up pops a major holiday that you’re not entirely prepared for but welcome the festivities for the mental and emotional boost it provides.  Then the holiday is gone like the wind and what you’re left with is basically, a big mess,  a financial dent and an empty quiet house.  Which I could handle, as I do every year except that this year there’s an added anti-bonus.  A ton of snow and little or no sushine. (my other god.)   So if you’re reading this and “seeing” me devoid of most of what I need to get by, your picture is accurate.

Okay, so I’m experiencing a low point.  Maybe I just miss my kids.  Maybe I am just completely pissed at myself for lighting a cigarette after 6 days of cold turkey.  Maybe I simply need a new haircut.  Maybe I can’t force myself to take down my Christmas tree. (I know…)  Maybe I need medicated.  Maybe I wish that was me snowboarding in the Olympics.  Maybe I should replace my favorite jeans that are falling apart.  Maybe I should just shut up.

(I hope none of this shows on my face. I have to get my driver’s license photo taken in the morning.  Ha!)


So how’s your summer going?  I apologize that I haven’t been to visit anyone’s blog this week, it’s been crazy here.  It’s been all I could do to hop on Facebook and Twitter for a few minutes to try and catch up.  So if there’s anything important I’m missing, let me know here and I’ll come and see you on the weekend.  I picked a pretty lousy time to commit to posting every day.  A friend more or less said that he’d rather put up quality than to throw out crap just for the sake of writing every day.  I have to agree with him…


What would you say exactly to a person in your neighborhood who insists on burning garbage about twice a week in the evenings when it’s nice to sit outside and enjoy the fresh air?

Plastic is meant to be recycled.  I do not enjoy smelling it being burned.   I don’t know how someone can not care about smelling up an entire neighborhood.  I’m guessing that it stinks pretty bad in their own yard.  Can’t they understand that air moves around?  Wood smells good burning.  Paper doesn’t bother me.  But that sickening smell of plastic and whatever else is just plain inconsiderate.

It was 8:30 last night and  I was looking forward to going to bed and sleeping by my open window and smelling the sweet night air and awakening to the sound of birds this morning.  I didn’t want my whole house to reek so I had to go around to every single window in my house;  in the basement, on the first floor and then upstairs and close each one.  Sure, a couple of hours later the smell would be gone, but I’m not about to get out of bed at night and go around and open all the windows just because someone in my hood is a jerk.  So instead I slept in a stuffy room and wished I lived out in the middle of nowhere.

Thanks for letting me get this off my chest.  How do YOU deal with people like this?  I’m thinking if they’re that inconsiderate in the first place, there probly is no reasoning with them.


… all you have to do is simply pollute my email with this kind of shit:


Written By Regina Brett, 90 years old, of The Plain Dealer, Cleveland , Ohio

“To celebrate growing older, I once wrote the 45 lessons life taught me. It is the most-requested column I’ve ever written. My odometer rolled over to 90 in August, so here is the column once more:”

1. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.
2. When in doubt, just take the next small step.
3. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.
4. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends and parents will. Stay in touch.
5. Pay off your credit cards every month.
6. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.
7. Cry with someone. It’s more healing than crying alone.
8. It’s OK to get angry with God. He can take it.
9. Save for retirement starting with your first paycheck.
10. Take a deep breath. It calms the mind.

Yadda, yadda, yadda.  I left out about 2/3 of this damn thing.  Of course, it ends up with this crap…

It’s estimated 93% won’t forward this. If you are one of the 7% who will, forward this with the title ‘7%’. I’m in the 7%. Remember that I will always share my spoon with you! Friends are the family that we choose for ourselves.
Now here are my feelings on the subject of email “forwards”…
  • I do not have the time or the interest to read this.
  • If you think I have reached the age I am and have not learned any of this earth-shattering wisdom by now, you don’t know me well enough to even have me for a “friend.”
  • Did I not say to you when I gave you my email address, “I only use my mail for personal correspondence.  DO NOT SEND ME ANY OF THOSE RIDICULOUS FORWARDS.  Did I?  You bet your ass I did.
  • Don’t think I’m stupid enough to believe that my demise would or could be attributed to the fact that I did not forward an email to 7 people.
  • I can’t believe that people who spend their time cranking out this stuff can’t find anything better to do.
  • In fact, I’m getting more pissed by the minute as I realize that I am wasting precious minutes of my life addressing this stupid issue.

Now, you know me well enough to know that I’m not completely unyielding when it comes to my own rules.  I make exceptions.  If something is really funny (I mean REALLY) or amazing, and it’s from someone who knows how I feel about what is really funny or amazing, I’m not gonna get pissed.  And I have been known to send a good joke or an awesome photo.  I can’t say that I’ve never passed on a forward.  But if I did, I had a very good reason.  Mainly what I’m addressing here is mail like the above from people I rarely see and can’t remember the last time they took a minute and wrote a personal “Hi, how are you?”

Anybody with me on this?  I mean no disrespect to Ms. Regina Brett in Cleveland if there really is such a person. God Bless her if she really is 90 and has the ability to think and write. And it’s great that she wants to share her hard-learned lessons with a bunch of crazies on the internet. And I’m very impressed if she really owns and can operate a computer…

Don’t worry, if you don’t answer, nothing bad will happen to you.  And if you do, probly nothing really good will either.  But if it does, it will be for a valid reason.




So after dinner, Maddie asked me, “Nana, what color is your bargage can?”  For those of you not familiar with Madeline-speak, “bargage” translates to “garbage.”

“Well, Maddie, I have a white garbage can in the kitchen.  I have a blue one in the bathroom.”  I went through all the other rooms in my head and reported the color of the bargage can in each of them.  After this lengthy response, she folded her arms, rolled her eyes to the ceiling and replied, “Gawd, where did that come from???”

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You can see more of Maddie and Andrew and Julian in my Flickr pics later.  I’ll let you know when they’re up.

I’ll answer comments when time permits.  Hopefully soon.

Watch Leno tonight, Kings of Leon are supposed to be on.  Enjoy it for me.  Thx.