Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Blogger Appreciation Day

Just got the news from insty that today is Blogger Appreciation Day.  So come on, you guys.  It's time to appreciate me.  You only have an hour and 15 minutes left to express your appreciation.

Meanwhile, many the bloggers I cherish have moved to Facebook, Twitter, and even Flickr.  Do they still count as bloggers?

Sunday, February 26, 2012

More extortion

Here's someone else complaining about red light cameras.  Read it and weep.

Friday, February 24, 2012

Tragic haircut


When I was ten years old I transferred from commie private school to public junior high. All the other kids were bigger and older than me, which put me at a disadvantage, but what really riled me was the way mother dressed me. Like a little girl, which I was. But I wanted to be dressed like the popular junior high girls.

Worst of all was my hair. I had long, beautiful golden hair, which mother thought would turn to brown if I cut it. But all the other girls wore either a flip or a pageboy. And every day I had the indignity of sitting at the kitchen table while bubbe braided my hair. I hated those braids with a passion. I tormented mother until she gave in and allowed me to go to a beautician and get a decent haircut.

I guess she didn't think I would really do it. When I came home with my new do, she was aghast and went into her room and slammed the door. She didn't speak to me for hours. She was right--when my hair grew out it was a dull brown. And hairwise, it was all downhill from that day forward.
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Thursday, February 23, 2012

My latest painting

A display in a thrift shop.
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Wednesday, February 22, 2012

I'm still here!


I designed this as a Christmas/Chanukah/holiday card, but didn't send any cards out because the printer was on the blink. I'd like to send copies to my friends to let them know I'm still alive and that 2011 didn't do me in. What do you think?
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Tuesday, February 14, 2012

A few weeks ago I was stranded at Philadelphia Airport without a ride, and I was forced to use the Old Lady card.  Fortunately, it succeeded, but the problem with using the Old Lady card is that you have to be an old lady before, during, and after employing the card.  There is no time off for good behavior, no furlough, no chance of a reprieve.  You never even get one day off.

Once upon a time I had a Cute Young Thing Card, but it expired and can never be renewed.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Euphemism

I got a bill  with a photo of me going through a red light, sent by some kind benefactors who call themselves the Red Light Safety Program. They wanted a decent sized check, but that's not what it's about. It's all about my safety.  No doubt they could use the cash as well, but it's really, really about keeping me safe. And the children, too, I'm sure.  Let's not forget the children.

Can't we ever call things by their real names?  This program should be called the Revenue Enhancement Program, or the Gotcha! Program.  That would be more honest.  Just as it would be more honest to refer to abortion and birth control by their own names, instead of piously calling them Women's Health Issues.  And talking about saving women's health.  Pregnancy is not an illness.  Every single person I've ever met was the result of a pregnancy.  Every one.  No exceptions.

Does it ever occur to anyone that women can still get abortions and birth control by paying for it themselves? It's perfectly legal.  But it seems unthinkable.  We used to pay for medical care, in living memory.  When my kids were small, we took them to the pediatrician and paid the bill out of our own pockets.  They got the required shots and well-baby exams without  aid from the government or insurance.  Insurance was for catastrophes.

A couple of years ago, my father suffered an attack of shingles.  It was hideously painful, so when shots for shingles came out, I asked the doctor to prescribe a shot for me.  The insurance carrier had not yet approved this for payment, and my doctor's office was gobsmacked when I offered to pay for it myself.  I did, and was not struck down by a thunderbolt from heaven.

My brother, the genius, sent me this photo.  I don't quite know why he sent it, but I thought I would share it.

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

Old plants, new shoots

 



I got these plants as gifts a year ago. Put them in the garage and forgot about them. I discovered yesterday that they had sent forth new shoots. So I watered them and am watching them grow.

Someone sent me a comment, which has since been eaten by Blogger, asking what kind of plants they are.  The answer is crocus, daffodil, tulip, and I forget.  I don't know which are which, though.

Undoubtedly more will be revealed.
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