Yeah! Day 5 of the blogging challenge, 1/6th of the way to go before I finish the 30 challenge. We Work for Cheese has graciously given us a list of topics for the full 30 days. So grateful, since I've been tapped out for weeks and weeks and weeks. Today is all about pressure.
Well it's 11:45pm and I have 15 minutes to get this blog done. Hubby is in bed. Stephen Corbert is on the telly. And damn it, I want to eat something sweet.
I'm getting hot, because we haven't put the air conditioner in the window yet. Or maybe I'm getting hot because the menopause has gone from pause to full blown meno.
Or maybe its the glass of wine I just polished off. Yup, that must be it.
So the pressure is on to get this done in record time. So off the top of my sweating head, I'll have to write something quick. I feel the pressure to talk about pressure.
Pressure is putting the squeeze on. I used to do my best work in school when it was the eleventh hour. The deadline was looming and I would have to pull an all nighter. My best work would come at 3am when I was sure an F was going to meet me in the morning. A+ after A+ gave me the false impression that I worked best under pressure.
Continuous pressure is not a good thing. Hell! Look at the time. I've got 9 minutes left.
Anyhoo. I once took a health test on a medical website. It asked me all sorts of questions to gauge how my daily actions affected on my overall health. The conclusion? It stated, "You are VERY HARD on your body." So the pressure is on. If I don't change soon, I'll be feeling the pressure under ground.
Oh no, I'm brain dead. Can't think of anything else and I only have four minutes left. The only thing I can think of is totally inappropriate. The pressure I like is the pressure of my another human being leaning or lying near me. I sigh and feel the stress slip away.
Remember the squeeze is on and I'm going to go to bed and leave this pressure for a more pleasurable pressure, a quick squeeze.
Done. Hands thrown in the air.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
My Viewpoint on Spiders
Day 5 of the 30 day blog challenge inspired by We Work for Cheese.
Spiders are lucky. They are very lucky. My mother told me that. Never kill a spider, they bring good luck.
A creature that deals in silk must have good taste.
A creature that makes such a beautiful geometric pattern in web design has to be a mathematical genius and artist.
A creature that can get rid of other pests can't be all bad.A creature that eats its mate after sex is a heroine we can all get behind.
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Literally Road Blocks
Well my 30 day blogging challenge proposed by We Work for Cheese has been thwarted on my second day. By roadblocks. Many, many roadblocks. How appropriate. What can you do? Really.
On my way to write my second blog in so many days, I was filled with anticipation to get to my computer and type my brilliant thoughts "down on paper" so to speak.
I was happily driving my mom from my sister's when up in front of me was a roadblock of fire engines and police cars. The road was closed because of an overturned truck and we were re-routed through a neighborhood full of dead ends and cul-de-sacs. What a tangled web those old urban planners did weave.
When we were close to reaching our destination, home, my mom in her sweetest asking voice, wondered if I was busy the rest of the afternoon. OH-Oh. That's means "Honey, I want you to be my slave and grant me every wish and drive me where ever I want to go. And oh yes, buy me lunch too."
Sorry, blog. Another "roadblock" was placed in my path and this was a formidable one in the shape of a four foot ten, red-haired, 82 year old hobbit woman with expert guilting skills insisting on elevensies.
I am always willing to accommodate my lovely mother and have learned the great skill of patience from her. We shuffle slowly through the five stores we shopped. Lunch was an hour long affair since she eats very slowly and carefully. We stopped at two garage sales and she picked up every item on every table and scrutinized each item carefully like a forensics expert looking for the tiniest evidence of DNA.
Finally on my way to her home, another roadblock, more fire engines and police cars that blocked the divided highway I was driving. Through the neighborhood again, but this time on one way streets. The accident earlier that day at least gave you an opportunity to turn left or right. We were all doomed to go in the same direction causing massive back-ups no matter which way I turned trying to get away from it all.
Hours later, when I finally drag my butt into my own home, my roadblock is a mental and a physical block. My head is pounding and my leg is throbbing. I can't think. can't move. Pain relief isn't coming no matter how many 200mg of whatever it is I'm taking. My leg takes hours to calm down and finally I can go to bed.
Sometimes there is no roadblock for pain.
There are always roadblocks to overcome. Roadblocks seem to appear every time you make a real commitment as though the mere mention of such commitment and resolve triggers the fates to mess with you just for fun. I was blocked thoroughly.
All I can hear in my head is a quote paraphrased from Wizard of Oz: "As coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her, And she's not only merely blocked, she's really most sincerely blocked."
On my way to write my second blog in so many days, I was filled with anticipation to get to my computer and type my brilliant thoughts "down on paper" so to speak.
I was happily driving my mom from my sister's when up in front of me was a roadblock of fire engines and police cars. The road was closed because of an overturned truck and we were re-routed through a neighborhood full of dead ends and cul-de-sacs. What a tangled web those old urban planners did weave.
When we were close to reaching our destination, home, my mom in her sweetest asking voice, wondered if I was busy the rest of the afternoon. OH-Oh. That's means "Honey, I want you to be my slave and grant me every wish and drive me where ever I want to go. And oh yes, buy me lunch too."
Sorry, blog. Another "roadblock" was placed in my path and this was a formidable one in the shape of a four foot ten, red-haired, 82 year old hobbit woman with expert guilting skills insisting on elevensies.
I am always willing to accommodate my lovely mother and have learned the great skill of patience from her. We shuffle slowly through the five stores we shopped. Lunch was an hour long affair since she eats very slowly and carefully. We stopped at two garage sales and she picked up every item on every table and scrutinized each item carefully like a forensics expert looking for the tiniest evidence of DNA.
Finally on my way to her home, another roadblock, more fire engines and police cars that blocked the divided highway I was driving. Through the neighborhood again, but this time on one way streets. The accident earlier that day at least gave you an opportunity to turn left or right. We were all doomed to go in the same direction causing massive back-ups no matter which way I turned trying to get away from it all.
Hours later, when I finally drag my butt into my own home, my roadblock is a mental and a physical block. My head is pounding and my leg is throbbing. I can't think. can't move. Pain relief isn't coming no matter how many 200mg of whatever it is I'm taking. My leg takes hours to calm down and finally I can go to bed.
Sometimes there is no roadblock for pain.
There are always roadblocks to overcome. Roadblocks seem to appear every time you make a real commitment as though the mere mention of such commitment and resolve triggers the fates to mess with you just for fun. I was blocked thoroughly.
All I can hear in my head is a quote paraphrased from Wizard of Oz: "As coroner I must aver, I thoroughly examined her, And she's not only merely blocked, she's really most sincerely blocked."
Friday, June 1, 2012
Life is Good with Cheese
30-day challenge, a reason to live, a reason to blog. Thanks to We Work for Cheese for the challenge and the daily assignments. If I make it, I'll be very, very, surprised. Now, day One.
Cheese - both wonderful and if you think about it a little disgusting
Cheesers - my favorite pretend swear word
Cheezy - tacky chic
Favorite cheeses - extra sharp cheddar, provolone, baby swiss, spiced havarti, mozzarella, feta, ricotta, smoked anything, parmigiana, edam, colby, muenster, gouda, cottage, tillamook, on and on.
Only one piece of cheese - no such thing.
Melted cheese - awesome. Melted cheese with a slight crusty edge - heaven on earth.
Don't really want to be a wife of a cheese maker, and a candlestick maker sounds like a bore, but a baker, I would be a wildly happy woman, a very happy fat woman. Pastries - yum.
My daddy's daily breakfast - a chunk of cheese, a chuck of bread, and espresso coffee.
One of the best talents of the earthly creature called the human being is its ability to create, transform, and reconstruct in such variety and infinite artistry is its very sustenance - food.
Blessed are the cheese makers.
Cheese - both wonderful and if you think about it a little disgusting
Cheesers - my favorite pretend swear word
Cheezy - tacky chic
Favorite cheeses - extra sharp cheddar, provolone, baby swiss, spiced havarti, mozzarella, feta, ricotta, smoked anything, parmigiana, edam, colby, muenster, gouda, cottage, tillamook, on and on.
Only one piece of cheese - no such thing.
Melted cheese - awesome. Melted cheese with a slight crusty edge - heaven on earth.
Don't really want to be a wife of a cheese maker, and a candlestick maker sounds like a bore, but a baker, I would be a wildly happy woman, a very happy fat woman. Pastries - yum.
My daddy's daily breakfast - a chunk of cheese, a chuck of bread, and espresso coffee.
One of the best talents of the earthly creature called the human being is its ability to create, transform, and reconstruct in such variety and infinite artistry is its very sustenance - food.
Blessed are the cheese makers.
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