Tag: Studly Doright

Love is a Warm Cat

Our cat, Gracie, loves me. She loves me with her whole heart. If my WordPress account allowed, I’d post a picture of her, and you’d be able to see the love light shining in her eyes. Or the mischief. It’s hard to tell.

She’s beautiful—A muted calico with a white strip from the top of her head to the tip of her cute little nose. Sometimes I catch her admiring herself in the mirror.

And she’s so smart. She can open the cabinet in which her treats are stored, and without fail, brings us a bag of treats every night after the lights are out. It’s the equivalent of a toddler’s “just one more drink, Mommy” or “read me one more story.”

If I go to bed before Studly Doright does, Gracie will pester him until he joins me. But if I stay up a little later, she curls up in my lap until I indicate that I’m ready for bed. Like I say, she loves me.

I’m sitting here watching her attack her scratching post, shredding the fibers with a vengeance. The post has seen better days, but it’s her favorite toy. Even so, I’ve begun to think of it as a piece of modern sculpture. Maybe we could sell it for a small fortune and Gracie could create a new one. Maybe she could reimburse us for all those treats. Maybe I need to get some sleep tonight. I’m rambling.

Peace, people.

Yellowstone, Finally

Studly Doright and I resisted watching Yellowstone for as long as possible. I was a bit of a snob about it: Me? Watch a silly nighttime soap opera? Puhlease! I’ve much better things to do.

Two weeks in and we’re both hooked. Just don’t take me to the train station in case I decide to leave the ranch. I’ll keep the family secrets. I promise. But those Duttons—whew.

Peace, and giddyup people.

Not Funny

Studly Doright and I don’t go out much other than to dinner on the weekend. Occasionally his golf course offers some entertainment on Friday or Saturday night and if he isn’t too worn out from his work week we’ll head out there for a good time because he knows I crave live music. I only suggest stuff that I think we both will enjoy.

So, when I saw that comedian Rob Schneider was coming to Tallahassee for a one-night comedy show, I thought that could be fun. Studly agreed and I purchased tickets for Saturday night’s show.

Now I have seen Schneider in the Duece Bigelow movies, and Adam Sandler often has a role for Rob. He’s funny in those parts—and while no one’s ever going to consider him for an Oscar, he makes Studly laugh. And Studly’s laugh is THE best. I was really looking forward to hearing that laugh.

Unfortunately, Mr. Schneider used the stage as a pulpit to rage against liberals. I’m a big girl. I can laugh at good-natured ribbing about politics. I know the Democrats aren’t perfect and there’s a lot of humor to be had making fun of us. But Schneider just never let up. Or maybe he finally did—we left about 45 minutes in.

He’s an anti-vaxxer. He has a problem with masks. Okay, so did a lot of people. I get it. He voted for Trump because, something to the effect of, I know the guy, oh and his opponent was a murderer…

It was at that point Studly asked if I wanted to leave. “Not yet,” I said. “I paid good money for these seats.”

So we stayed, watching as others began “going to the restroom and never returning.” When Schneider announced that we can’t say “woman” in America anymore and the WOMAN beside me clapped and cheered and said something nasty about liberals, I turned to Studly and said, “Now we can go.”

Schneider’s running joke for the evening was “I don’t want to get “Chris Rocked” or “Dave Chappelled” tonight. My thoughts as I was strolling out the door: “Honey, you’re not in their league, and I’m not spending a night in jail over the likes of you.”

The worst part is, I didn’t get to hear Studly’s laugh. Sure wish I’d done my research on Mr. Schneider.

Peace, people.

Head Shots

There was a brief period in my life when I was considered adorable. It began the day I was born and ended around the time I entered kindergarten. Somewhere there is photographic proof, but I’m too lazy to go through all the pictures from those long ago years. Let’s just say that any one of my school pictures from first grade through my junior year would make excellent dart board targets. Senior year photos weren’t any better, and to make it worse, featured feathers around my skinny bare shoulders. Shudder.

So, one might deduce, and correctly so, that I shy away from having my picture taken. Regardless of how much I prepare or practice or primp, my smile always seems to look slightly unhinged at its best or dour at its worst.

So when I needed a good head shot to put on the author’s website a good friend is helping me develop for my books, I was in despair. Should I pay for a professional photographer? That’s never worked for me in the past. Should I just take a selfie and be done with it? Or, should I turn to Studly Doright whose photography experience is limited to taking multiple shots of whichever motorcycle he’s currently got for sale on eBay.

I feared hearing, “Here, honey, let’s get a closer picture of your gas tank. Polish it up a little first.”

But in the end. I risked it. After all, he works for free, and he’s never once failed to find a buyer for a bike.

“Who knows,” I thought. “We might even get lucky.”

And I believe we might have. Help me choose.

1
2
Or maybe this slightly deranged one? 3

Yes, my hair is imperfect in the first two, but that’s a given in my world. I think Studly did pretty well. And just in case these go on eBay, I get really good gas mileage.

Peace, people.

No Brunch for You!

Neither Studly Doright nor I remembered to make reservations for Easter brunch, and now every place in Tallahassee is booked. Looks like the Easter bunny is going to be dining on whatever this non-cook can cook up.

Peace and happy Easter, people.

Swoon Worthy

Huey Lewis reacted to MY post. Mine.

I love Huey Lewis. Yes, Studly Doright is well aware of the fact that Huey is my dream man. That voice. Oh my. That look. Oh dear! And he seems like a genuinely good person. Bonus points!

So when something I posted on Huey’s Facebook page gets a ❤️ reaction, I’m ready to chuck 45 years of marriage down the drain, ‘cause if Huey’s ready to propose, I want to be available.

Okay, I realize that THE Huey Lewis likely never saw my post or reacted to it, but someone he probably knows did and, hey, can a proposal be far behind?

I’d never leave Studly anyway. Right? Right.

Peace, People.

Blame it on Gracie

I’d get out of bed and work on editing book three in my Happy Valley series, but there’s a cat snuggled on my chest.

Who could even think of displacing this girl?

Peace, people!

Bright Spots

I haven’t posted much lately. My mind is occupied with worry for my mother-in-law and sister-in-law, both of whom remain in an Amarillo hospital battling COVID. Both are now on ventilators.

On Tuesday I began my journey from Tallahassee, Florida, to Amarillo, Texas. I’m hoping to be a help and not a hindrance to the sister-in-law and niece who have been bearing the brunt of the responsibility these past few weeks.

Last night I stayed with my son and two of my grand dogs and this morning I’ll have a fairly short (four hour) drive to Amarillo.

The son and dogs were bright spots on my trip.

Jason and Milo
Ryder

Ryder slept with me part of the night. He snores a lot less than Studly Doright.

Peace, people. Oh, and wear your masks and get vaccinated and boosted as soon as you can.

Cautiously Optimistic

I haven’t had it in me to write a blog post these past few days, but I’m going to give it a go. On Christmas Day, my mother-in-law, Saint Helen, was taken to an Amarillo hospital where she tested positive for COVID. Her eldest daughter and son-in-law also tested positive.

Due to the overwhelming number of COVID patients there were no rooms, so the three stayed in the emergency room. When a room on the COVID floor did open up it was given to my sister-in-law who had developed the crystals that indicate COVID pneumonia in both lungs.

Saint Helen did well enough that she was released to her middle daughter after a couple of days. Unfortunately COVID wasn’t ready to let her go and she was readmitted a few days ago. Currently, she is in the Intensive Care Unit. She had two really rough days, but maybe turned a corner last night. Middle daughter says they are cautiously optimistic.

My sister-in-law, “Almost Saint Lyn,” is one of my favorite people in the entire world. She remains in the ICU (I believe, I forgot to ask this morning) and also has had some really tough days, and likely still more to come, but we are hopeful she has turned a corner. I’ve texted with her a time or two and she feels good enough to be bored.

Her husband was able to go home yesterday, and according to Almost Saint Lyn’s daughter, who is taking care of him, he’s cranky, so that’s a good sign.

Now, Saint Helen’s middle daughter, Angie, has shouldered most of the responsibility for keeping the rest of us informed. Angie has been the constant solid contact since Christmas, caring for the sick, suiting up and going onto the COVID floor for the once daily 30 minute visits with her mom and the others. She’s had help from Almost Saint Lyn’s daughter and also from Saint Helen’s youngest daughter, but Angie is the one who has born the brunt of the crisis.

Please keep our loved ones in your prayers or send good vibes or whatever you can spare. I know we aren’t the only ones in this situation. The number of new infections is staggering.

So I’m officially granting Angie sainthood. She has earned it. It doesn’t pay well, but we are so grateful to her. Studly Doright and I have felt so helpless being in Florida, so far away from family, but Saint Angie has been our rock.

I joke to keep from crying, you know. Still, Saint Angie has a nice ring to it.

Peace, people.

This photo of Saint Helen and me was taken at Christmas several years ago. We were in Nashville getting ready to attend a performance of the Grand Ole Opry. She’s the best.

Speaking of Speaking

A few days ago I shared with you all that I’d agreed to speak at a newcomers’ group luncheon in Tallahassee at a date to be determined later. Well, later has arrived. The date is February 9, so now I can begin working on my speech, and more importantly, over stressing.

If I were to share my speech thoughts and rough drafts here would my readers offer creative and constructive criticism? I really have no one to bounce them off of, except the cat, and she adores me, so objectivity isn’t her strong suit.

“What about Studly Doright?” You might ask. He’d just tell me to show more cleavage or leg or something. Since I’m fairly certain the group is made up almost entirely of women, I highly doubt that showing more skin would help. Besides, I’m 65. Showing even a hint of cleavage or an inch of thigh can go horribly wrong in the blink of an eye.

Peace, people.