Tag: humor

Blasts from the Past

Any time I receive a package in the mail I get a little giddy, especially if the package isn’t expected. Double bonus giddiness if the return address indicates the package is from a good friend. Triple that giddy feeling when my friend, Flo, is the sender.

In the past, Flo has sent me hilarious cards and quirky books of poetry, so I couldn’t wait to open her newest correspondence. True to form, Flo shared some great stuff.

The card made me laugh out loud:


But the treasures behind the card are blasts from the past:


This brochure on food freezers didn’t have a copyright date, but I’d place it in the late 50’s to early 60’s. Look how happy the model appears displaying her frozen peas! 

On page 4 of the brochure there’s a tutorial on how to wrap foods for freezing. I have questions: What’s a stockinette, and how have I lived without one for all these years?


Oh! On the next page I found the definition:


This little book has some excellent charts for novice and experienced freezer users. And even as I giggle at the vintage photos and verbiage I know I’ll consult these charts in the future. 


Also in the package from Flo was this little gem from 1966:


Is she plotting to kill her lover with a quick spoon to the jugular? Is that jar a receptacle for the resulting blood? Did Marlo Thomas pose for this artwork?


Yes, you too can be envied and appreciated for your food preserving skills. Yes, you might even receive applause! 

Again, even as I’m giggling over these I’m seriously daydreaming about the applause and accolades.

Crowd of Admirers: Ooooh! Ahhh! Bravo! 

Me: (blushing): Honestly, it was nothing! I just whipped up thirty quarts of pickled beets and nine pints of cactus jelly while simultaneously juggling twins on both hips and swinging from a crystal chandelier so my hard working husband can concentrate on the manly chores I’m unqualified to perform. All while wearing a starched white apron over a chiffon gown with my dainty feet balanced on three-inch heels. 

Because, I’m a woman!

https://g.co/kgs/LyVu11
Thanks, Flo! 

Call Me a Cab

I know my posts have been either political or floral lately. Here’s one that’s neither. Enjoy. And if there’s a 9-year-old in your life, share these with him/her.

P

And my favorite, in spite of the spelling and grammatical errors:

Peace and giggles, people.

Death and Facials

One of the nicest things I do for myself is to schedule regular facials. I’m fortunate to live near an Aveda Institute where students in the noble art of esthetics practice their burgeoning skills on willing participants for a fraction of the cost of the same service at a regular salon. 

My esthetician today was poised and competent. From the initial handshake I could tell I was in for a great experience with Madeline, and I wasn’t disappointed. But this post isn’t about her; it’s about me, as always.

Not long after I’d gotten settled on the table and Madeline began her routine my mind started wandering. Not to a happy place on a beach, or to a ski resort in the alps, but to my future deathbed. Yes, I’m weird that way.

I thought about how many times I’ve gotten a special, one time only event totally wrong. Like the year my sorority in Kansas chose me as their sweetheart. I believe my exact words were, “You’re sh***ing me!”

Or the one time a good looking teenage boy picked up my teenaged self and flirtatiously threw me into a swimming pool. Again, I believe my exact words were, “You’re shi***ing me!” 

So I began rehearsing my deathbed speech. Oddly enough, it started with, “You’re sh***ing me!”

Naw. Just kidding. In my fantasy I told everyone gathered around me how much I loved them, and recounted one beautiful memory from my time with each individual. It was moving. I hope I can remember all this when the time comes. But if all else fails there’s always the old standby. 

Picking My Poison

I was completely out of coffee, so I picked up a canister of Folger’s breakfast blend at Target Wednesday afternoon. Upon opening the canister this morning I realized that the freshness seal had been breached. With only a bit of hesitation I measured out the life giving substance and dumped it into the coffee maker, added water, and voilà! 

Of course after taking my first drink I’ve become convinced that some evil doer introduced a toxic substance into my Folger’s and that soon I’ll be clutching at my throat and writhing on the cold tile floor in agony. But at least I’ll have had my coffee! And that’s the important thing here.

Should I perhaps add some Bailey’s Irish cream? Might mitigate the effects of any poison. Or hasten them. Seriously, if I die, you all now know the rest of the story.

Peace, and good coffee people.

Pros and Cons

On Monday morning I have to have a little PROcedure. And honestly, even though I have a bit of anxiety about it, I’m enormously relieved that it’s not a CONcedure, or worse yet, an AMATEURcedure. 

Weather App Madness

It’s hard to disagree with this logic. The WTForecast app has a unique way of delivering weather updates.

Notes from a Head Cold

Day 1: Surprise! I’m moving into your head. You’ll think I’m just seasonal allergies for the first 8 hours. Ha! Puny human.

Night 1: Hope you don’t need to breathe. Or maybe I’ll just open up your sinuses and you’ll begin leaking snot like a faucet from your right nostril. Girl, you look so cute with a rolled up tissue sticking out of your schnozzola.

Day 2: I know, you were still hoping I was just an allergy attack, so I thought a slight fever and some body aches might cheer you up. No? Suck it up buttercup. I’m yours for six more days. 

Night 2: You imagined that nighttime cold medicine was going to let you sleep through the night as advertised, didn’t you? Bwahahaha! If I had a knee I’d slap it. Better yet, I’ll slap you. Headaches just make me more awesome. 

So I’m sick. Dammit. This is all my imagination could handle today. I have a couple of posts queued up, but if you don’t hear from me again you’ll know the cold won. 

Peace, people.

Snapshot #82

Nothing offers camouflage quite as well as the color pink. I called this one, “Can You See Me Now?” 

Snapshot #81

I took this photo at a local store that specializes in hunting and fishing paraphernalia, i.e. fishing rods, guns, ammunition, etc. I’m not sure how a pacifier fits their target demographic, but then my degree isn’t in marketing.

There are too many things going on in this packaging for me to come up with a single title. Note the, “Ages 6 months to 99 years” recommendation in the lower left hand corner. Perhaps I should call this one, “A Gift for the Ages!”

Maybe I should focus on the whole Broadway Baby/fame aspect. How about, “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille,” or “Kim Kardashian, Eat Your Heart Out.”

Suggestions are welcome. 

2017 in 2017

I’ve gained quite a bit of weight in the past two years. I’d be more specific, but who needs the depressing details? Let’s just say that the bathroom scales and I have climbed to previously untapped heights and leave it at that.


Early on New Year’s Day I was scrolling through Facebook and saw a post about a challenge to walk/run 2017 miles in 2017. The sign up deadline was midnight on 1/1/17, so I hesitated for only a moment before clicking on the link and paying my money. 

I’m now committed (or perhaps should be). 2017 miles in 365 days means I need to average 5.5 miles a day this year, or 38.5 per week. I jokingly told a blogging friend that as of Friday I only have 2016.5 miles to go. The truth is, I’m kind of on track. With one and a half days left in this first week of January I’ve walked almost 32 miles! 


Hopefully I’ll have more weight loss success than this guy ^^^.

Remember the scene in the original Peter Pan where Tinker Bell is on the verge of fading into oblivion and Peter, a.k.a. Mary Martin, begs the audience to applaud to bring her back? I used to clap so loudly that the folks next door complained to my parents. Well, I’m going to need your applause here if I’m going to succeed in walking 2017 miles this year. Exercise is not my first (or third or ninetieth) inclination, but with your help, as Peter Pan is my witness, I can do this.

https://youtu.be/A6IKaLF4Fqc

Peace, people! Um, I can’t hear you.