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Okay, I've been daydreaming for a few weeks that the perfect present for myself from a loving family member would be a little Calico Kitten for Christmas. Now of course I'm keeping this under wraps and not telling a soul. Just watching cat food commercials with my mouth watering.Dreamily looking at pictures of furry kittys. This is what I've been thinking would replace a certain emptiness in my life since a certain little furry crazed animal left our planet.Well, the skids have been knocked out from under me. Reality has come home.1. We are getting new carpet in three bedrooms. Hmmm. Kitten my have accidents.2. Frank hates all animals of all sects, religions and genders.3. Trey posted on his blog that he hates cats (and that made me remember that he is allergic to cat hair) I really want him to still come home for visits.AAARGH. I may have to settle for clean carpet, a good husband and son and a warm blanket.Do you think??? ...
Racking my brain for a creative blog it arrived almost effortlessly in my lap. I have also traveled into the "next blog" world. You just go NEXT BLOG, NEXT BLOG, NEXT BLOG in the upper right hand corner.
So here are what my neighbors are up to today-
1. Ferrari is making LCD monitors for computers
2. Two doors down the guy is from Jakarta, Indonesia
3. "Current world events are providing factual evidence that the end times are upon us. Will you be prepared?" (This guy in Baton Rouge had cool "woo ooo oo ooo" sound effect that played for you so we could be entertained as we sat on this timebomb earth.)
4. Heather's Fitness Diary - She did "45 on an Elliptical all week" ???
5. Next "Whips and Chains, Your Great Danes..." Oil States, my Company, blocked it.
6. Kimmays Blog - Cute pictured high school girls with accompanying great music provided. All the posts told too much about a young girl and her friends. She is learning to drive and types everything in that email and instant messaging shorthand. Someone like me (a grandmother) should warn her not reveal her Marysville, Ohio location to the entire perverted internet population.
7. Several polital rants, George W, blah, blah, blah
8. Oh dear, more blocked blogs
9. Lots of foreign words blogs, bon jour
10. Chaos Theory Blog - hmmmm... I will google this for more details, I'm afraid this goes against my Christian upbringing.
11. And for your viewing pleasure - www.collagecabaret.blogspot.com
[I can't get the link to work for the viewing blog!-HUMPH]
Anyway, amazingly many of these featured blogs had already posted Today. This is just a mini-micro-teeny-tiny view! Isn't blogging fun. So join me in jumping around the blog world with Matt Lauer.
M.C.
Dreaming is pretty big with me. Last night I drifted in and out of several scenarios. Since the time change I haven't changed my bedside clock so I wake up several times during the night, go back to sleep, per chance to dream and thus my dreams change.
Here's how part of my night played out -
It was drifty and foggy on a ledge and Doris my deceased mother-in-law (who I always loved) and I were stock-piling clothing. We have been to several stores or somewhere (it seemed like Mervyns?) to buy some unknown mid-size clothing for some unknown reason. The feeling was we needed a lot, like for a hurricane or a tornado that was coming. We rushed to carefully fold and stack them with their tags still on and place them in a wooden cabinet or piece of furniture like an armoire. This piece of furniture was floating out on the foggy ledge. .... , okay, wake up to compute the time.
Now I'm dressed in a off-grey, dusty clown suit with grey, gloomy clown make-up with small bowler hat like a man clown. I'm on a cloudy, dusty, grey small stage with poor lighting. I'm shuffling my feet to some off-stage music and softly singing "I'm Mr. Cellophane" from the movie "Chicago". (this is done by the sad husband of Renee Zelweger in the movie) I'm not a good singer but I can clearly hear the tune of "I tell ya, Cellophane, I'm Mr. Cellophane, should have been my name, Mr. Cellophane, 'cause you can look right through me, walk right by me, And never know I'm there!" (it's done very slow and melancholy) Of course there is nobody in the old shabby theater. ...., okay, wake up to compute the time.
Now, new place don't know where and Steve Tate (Frank's cousin and our friend) and I are trying pretty franticly to take our blood sugar. I'm diabetic but he is not. We try over and over to prick our fingers. The lancets are no good or the meters do not register to get a drop of blood. People are looking over our shoulder and waiting impatiently. A crowd is growing, I'm sweating. Lots of pressure. The little lancets are piling up at our feet, my fingers hurt from all the pricking. I feel like B. B. King. ...., okay, wake up it's 7:25 a.m. on the clock, no that's wrong, 6:25 a.m. and I'm going to have to hustle be on time to work in Arlington.
Yikes, M.C.
