This hastily put-together wild party is for our friend, Katie at http://ktzpage.blogspot.com/ She needed one.
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11 years ago
This hastily put-together wild party is for our friend, Katie at http://ktzpage.blogspot.com/ She needed one.
Irene has been sequestered in her study feverishly working on our taxes.
The day Humphrey Bogart died we were eating corn flakes in the dining room of a one-armed pig hauler in Guadalajara where we rented a room.
This morning I woke up to find a light drizzle floating around outside and everything gleaming and green and eager for spring.
The news is my life link to the rest of the world. I believe everything I'm told, so when I heard last night that record snowfall in Canada is turning neighbors into enemies I quickly contacted my Maple Leaf son, Aaron at http://almas-soulfood.blogspot.com/ to ask if this could be.
Before I went to sleep at night my father would come into my room and say,
I think we have inadvertently solved our prescription drug dilemma in this country.
When I was growing up our house was filled with books. They were practically in the kitchen sink.
When I was in the 3rd grade I was a "safety" responsible for monitoring the behavior of my fellow students in the schoolyard. I could give "citations" for kids breaking the "rules".
One night a very long time ago my family and I drove to El Eijido Porvenir in Baja California. There were 4 of us kids in the backseat along with Mrs. Baracas who was wrapped in a reboso, cradling two potted cacti in her lap as she fingered her rosary. My mother and step-father had the luxury of the front seat. In the back window we had a cardboard box of 100 day old chicks we were taking to the village as a gift.
The only thing on my mind this morning is where shall I plant the maple tree. The one clinging to life in a plastic pot by our back door. All my research indicates the tree needs morning sun, afternoon shade. No wind, good drainage, nice neighbors, no loud parties.
I was almost run off the road once by a carpet cleaning van. The van had a bumper sticker: How's My Driving? I called the number on my cell to report the lunatic driver. The person answering the phone said, "What? Who told you to call me?" They clearly had no clue about their PR sticker. In the end the person said, "Yeah, well, thanks," and hung up. I really felt safer. Uh huh.
I gave up eating meat about 17 years ago while sitting in a stuffed chair in a rented cabin near Lake Tahoe in the middle of a July snowstorm. I'd spent the afternoon reading John Robbin's Diet for a New America and declared myself meat free somewhere in the middle of the Animal Agriculture chapter. I don't think I could go back to my rib smacking, chicken crunching days even if my doctor said my life depended on it.