Tag: humor

Aesthetics Issue

I either need a new face or a new haircut. Since I’m most likely stuck with the mug I’ve got, I’m focusing on haircuts.

My hair is super fine and I keep it short. I don’t seem to have any less hair at 62 than I did at 18, though, so I’m not worried about having sparse hair. There’s just not a lot of it.

I found this cut on the internet:

Now, if I had the perfect face like the model, I’d go for this. Hell, I might do it anyway, although, I’m likely to look like a squashed cantaloupe with a bit of mold up top. I’m bummed.

To cheer myself up I googled “funny mug shots.” Worked like a charm. Remind me to never get arrested.

Peace, people!

Snapshot #229

I call this one, “A Metaphor for My Life.”

Poor mannequin. Her arms were askew. One was turned completely backwards. I felt like I’d found my spirit animal.

Odd Injury

What’s the oddest injury you’ve ever had? I’m a lightning rod for odd injuries. Just today I noticed a small cut on the tip of my middle finger. It’s similar to a paper cut, but I’m positive I’d recall having gotten one of those.

After discussing the injury with Studly Doright I’ve decided it’s probably a flossing related injury. Yes, my desire for good dental hygiene is injurious to my health. Go figure.

I might live longer, but at what cost?

Peace, people.

Invisible Woman (to the tune of American Woman)

Friends on Facebook have been discussing the ways in which we become somewhat invisible as we age. I’d written a post about this idea a few months back, https://nananoyz5forme.com/2017/06/07/the-invisible-woman/,

but the phrase Invisible Woman made me think of The Guess Who classic hit, American Woman, and once I had that thought in my head I needed to run with it. Please forgive me!

Invisible Woman

Invisible Woman ain’t no big deal

Invisible Woman, she ain’t all that real

Invisible Woman, ain’t no big deal

Invisible Woman, she ain’t all that real.


Say I,
Say N,
Say V,
Say I,
Say S,
Say I,
Say B,
Say L, Say E


Invisible Woman ain’t worth your time
Invisible Woman won’t tip a dime
Invisible woman ain’t worth your time

Invisible woman, your hair is grey
Invisible woman, can’t hear what you say
Can’t see you sittin’ on that stool
Won’t save you from drowning in a pool
Younger girls have caught my eye
Even though I’m a real old guy
Now woman, just fade away,
Invisible woman, you won’t get no play.
Invisible woman, you’re sixty-one
Invisible woman, past prime and done
Don‘t bother trying to order beer
We’d rather serve the young chicks here
Your wrinkles cause me to ignore
Everything about you bores
I think that’s enough, don’t you. It gets pretty repetitive, and I’m no song writer. And it’s not that I’m trying to get noticed by men. It’s that I want to get noticed by wait staff!
Here’s the real deal. Man, I love this song.
https://youtu.be/gkqfpkTTy2w
Peace, people!

Not My Guinness!

We’re having some work done on our driveway at Doright Manor. Tree roots had mangled the drive causing it to crack and heave as if an earthquake had struck. The guys began work early this morning and are just now getting ready to add texture to the new concrete so it’ll match the concrete around it.

Studly Doright came in from supervising the workers, peered into the refrigerator, and interrupted my reading to ask, “Which beer should I give the guys?”

“Not my Guinness!” I squeaked, even though I can’t enjoy a Guinness for a few weeks. “There’s Michelob Ultra and Corona in the shop fridge.”

Studly just laughed, saying, “Touchy, aren’t you?” But he did leave my beer alone, thank you very much!

Can’t believe he considered giving my beer away.

He called me out to look at the new section of driveway, and this is what I saw:

Poor little guy’s living quarters have been disrupted! Apparently he’d patrolled the worksite off and on all morning, much to the chagrin of a couple of workers.

I might let the snake have a sip of Guinness to compensate him for his loss. Cheers!

Peace, people!

Rest and Recuperation

Since the Illinois grandkids left on Thursday I’ve been slowly getting back into my normal routine, but mainly I’ve been catching up on sleep. While the two teenagers weren’t early risers during their visit, the six-year-old came creeping into our room every morning around five.

On the days Studly was working in Orlando I’d just tuck Harper in on her Poppa’s side of the bed, and we’d doze off to the sleep stories featured on my Calm app, but every other morning last week she was ready to eat breakfast way before my eyes were ready to be open. The two of us had some pretty comical conversations about fairies, cities versus states, and family relationships while eating early morning Pop Tarts, so I’m not complaining.

On the Wednesday night before the kids’ 6:25 a.m. flight home we stayed at a hotel that was about a 15 minute drive from the Sanford/Orlando airport. Studly had to work clear across town on Thursday, so it was up to me to get the kids on their way. I set my alarm for three a.m., but Harper’s feet in my face woke me up around two. Gently I moved her back into a position parallel to mine, rather than the perpendicular one she’d assumed.

Then what sounded like four quick gunshots caused grandson Garrett to sit straight up in bed. He never awakened, just quietly laid back down, but I was then on high alert. I tossed and turned until my alarm went off, then stubbed my toe on McKayla’s sofa bed on my way to the bathroom in the dark. I’m really glad the kids all slept through my colorful string of whispered curse words.

The teenagers were surprisingly easy to get going that morning. Oddly enough only Harper, the early riser, resisted. Soon, though, she was up and going full speed. I think the anticipation of seeing her Mommy and Daddy in a few short hours did the trick.

We took the 4:30 a.m. hotel shuttle to the airport and I’d thought that was absurdly early; however, an accident on the Interstate (remember those “gunshots”? Apparently we’d heard a crash) had traffic backed up, and by the time we checked in, went through security, and made it to our gate the flight was boarding.

I hugged my sweet grandkids and watched them board.

They looked so young and yet so capable as they left me.

I rode the shuttle back to the hotel where I’d planned to nap before taking a shower and driving the four and a half hours home to Doright Manor, but I was pretty keyed up after all the morning’s activity, so I packed and got on the road. Emergency crews were still cleaning up the interstate after the crash, so I set my gps to take backroads. About two hours into my trip I found myself unable to keep my eyes open, so I found a shady spot for a nap. After waking myself with a loud snore half an hour later, I continued on home.

Said home was sadly quiet. I busied myself with straightening up some of the mess we’d made over the past week. The Risk game went back into the game closet. The stuffed animals went back into their basket. Two remaining boxes of Pop Tarts went into a grocery bag to be offered to a friend’s children.

Studly arrived home later that evening, and we struggled to stay awake until finally giving up the battle around eight. I slept restlessly that first night without the kids. Part of me wished a sweet six-year-old could still sneak into my room for giggly snuggles before sunrise. Did I mention that it’s too quiet here?

Peace, people.

Universal Happiness

Our oldest grandson and I spent a day at Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure in Orlando last Wednesday. A single day to do both parks justice didn’t seem feasible, but we made it work by purchasing express pass tickets and hitting all the rides we knew we wanted to ride.

The day began with rain! Such a bummer! But we got in the express pass line for the Minions ride and got out of the weather quickly. It wasn’t one of our “must” rides, but it served the purpose of keeping us dry and warm. The same was true for the Jimmy Kimmel ride. They were both fun, but not really what grandson Garrett was looking forward to on his first visit to Universal.

The rain slacked off somewhat, but the day was much colder than we’d expected. We stopped in a shop and I bought a hooded sweatshirt and we both got lanyards to keep our tickets and passes safe from the elements before heading into Diagon Alley.

Here’s Garrett outside the unassuming entrance to the magical world of Harry Potter:

Much to his embarrassment I asked complete strangers to take a photo of us in the middle of Diagon Alley. I told him he was going to get used to me being an extrovert. I’m not sure he ever embraced it, though.

He sort of thinks I’m nuts. He’s not wrong.

We stopped into Gringotts,

and we rode the Hogwarts Express:

We drank butterbeer once we arrived at Hogsmeade:

We rode spectacularly produced rides in the World of Harry Potter. They’re such a great mix of roller coaster action and film that reality gets all contorted by fantasy and you feel you really are dashing about a Quidditch field or escaping from Gringotts. One’s senses are confused and delighted in so many ways. I giggled and screamed in the same breath.

Hogwarts Castle was an amazing sight.

We ventured to many other parts of Universal and Islands of Adventure, taking on mummies and assisting Spiderman, but The Magical World of Harry Potter was the highlight.

Garrett and I had a blast. Okay, I had a blast, and I’m fairly sure he did–he’s not quite as extroverted as I am. (Note the Slytherin hat.)

Peace, people!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

One evening during the grandkids’ visit we sat around the dining room table playing a game of Risk. The two older kids and I were locked in a heated battle over the Congo, a territory that changed hands roughly 20 times during the course of the evening. Total world domination depended on taking and keeping that spot.

The youngest grandchild, six year old Harper, was an eager onlooker and rolled the dice for me when I had to take clothes out of the dryer or refresh the snacks.

Apropos of nothing between turns, Harper said, “Nana, I really love your lights over the table.”

“That’s called a chandelier,” sister McKayla said.

“Yeah. I really like your chandelier,” Harper said. “It’s so decorative.”

“Then you can have it when I die,” I said.

After a couple of beats Harper said, “I sure hope you die soon.”

“Harper!” The horrified teenagers said in unison. “Don’t say things like that!”

I just giggled. “Harper, I hope it’s not too soon. My death would keep us from going to Sea World this week.”

“Well, I really want the gems in the bathroom, too.”

“Gems?” I asked.

“You know, the ones you use to turn the water on and off.”

“Whoever buys the house will get all that stuff,” I said.

“Then I’ll buy your house,” Harper replied.

I guess that settles everything.

(Harper’s house has much nicer fixtures than mine does. I’d gladly trade her, and perhaps be granted a longer life.)

Peace, people.

Postcards from the Hedge

The grandkids are safely home in Illinois after spending a week with Studly and me here in Florida. Our time together was much too short, and now Doright Manor is quiet again.

I’m kind of exhausted after spending a full day with grandson, Garrett, at Universal Studios and Islands of Adventure on Wednesday and then getting up at 2:30 a.m. on Thursday to get them to the airport on time. I’m taking the lazy way out and just posting photos of our week with the kids.

Harper liked wearing Poppa’s reading glasses while intoning the phrase, “I’m a little old lady.”

McKayla, above settles into the Texas bedroom.

We went to a showing of Captain Marvel:

And talked about upcoming movies

Garrett chopped down a tree so that we could relocate the fairy house displaced by Hurricane Michael.

McKayla and Harper made the fairy house a welcoming place once again.

We played several games of Risk. I didn’t win even once. It seems that I’m lousy at games involving strategic thinking.

McKayla piloted the riding lawn mower around the yard, collecting fallen limbs and other forest detritus, including her sister.

We enjoyed a beach day at St. George Island:

Well, some of us enjoyed it. Studly and Garrett just tolerated the beach.

The girls had our nails done:

On Wednesday we packed up and left Doright Manor for Orlando. While there we took a tour of Full Sail University so our tech minded grandson could satisfy his curiosity. He was impressed, and now has some work ahead of him in his last two and a quarter years of high school.

The kids swam at the hotel pool in Orlando while I acted as lifeguard.

On Wednesday the girls and Poppa Studly spent the day at Sea World, so I have no photos of that. I heard plenty of stories of fun and silliness, though. Harper even coerced her Poppa into riding a roller coaster. He says it was the last one he’ll ever ride. We’ll see about that.

The girls did get tattoos at Sea World, but I only got a photo of Harper’s when we were back in our hotel room. Garrett and I spent our day at Universal Studios, and I’ll share those pics tomorrow. I know, I know, you’re all on pins and needles to see them. 😂

Peace, people!

Beachy Keen

Yesterday Studly Doright and I took the visiting grandkids to St. George Island for a bit of beach time. The granddaughters and I are beach people. My husband and our grandson are not. Note Studly’s scowl and Garrett’s total disregard for the sand and surf.

Meanwhile, McKayla (below, left) and Harper had fun wrestling the boogie board. I say “wrestling” because neither ever managed to actually ride the darned thing.

Much hilarity ensued while I kept an eye out for any dangers. I didn’t relax much on this beach trip. Still, the sun was glorious and the water was wonderful.

Peace, people!