Monthly Archives: January 2017

Help…My Bed Tried To Kill Me


I sleep on a twin size blow up bed.  With a one-inch foam pad on top.  I sleep on it because it seems to not be as hard on my body as a regular bed.  I love my bed.  It has three levels of comfort and it will re-inflate all by itself if your “level” gets low.  I have had this bed for a year or so and never had a single bit of trouble with it….until a few days ago.

I woke up the other morning to the sound of the motor inflating the bed….while I was still in it which had never happened before.  Now these beds, as good as they are are not made for every night sleeping on.  So eventually they spring a leak, and since this wasn’t my first rodeo with a blow up bed, I knew it would just a matter of time before it started to leak.  And sure enough, the past few mornings the inflator was running but I was in a low spot in the middle of the bed.  Now if I were a “nip the problem in the bud immediately” kind of person, I would have gotten a bottle of soapy water and sprayed it down to see if I could find the leak.  But you all know me….Procrastination is my middle name.  Plus, I have a tent on top of my bed…..

A what?  A tent.

Since moving into my own bedwomb in the basement (it used to be our daughter’s room), I needed something to protect me from the occasional large spider and or centipede that would freak my kid out when she slept down there…I always knew when she saw one cause I would hear a short, shrill scream and then a “bang” as she whacked it with something large.  And if we have mice, they like to run across the window sills and the floors and anywhere else they feel like going and pooping.  So I bought a bed tent!

img_1146InflatI adore my tent bed.  I keep it zipped up at all time so nothing can get in there and I sleep like a baby in the womb.  It has screened windows on either end so I keep them open for ventilation and even though it is super cold down there (cement floors), I stay toasty warm in there.

So there I was, last night in pitch blackness, sound asleep when suddenly I am falling out of bed INSIDE my zippered tent.  At first I wasn’t sure if it was one of those dreams where you feel like you are falling only to jerk yourself awake.  But then I hit the freezing floor and I knew I was awake.  It took me a few seconds to understand what the heck had happened as it was pitch black and I was understandably discombobulated.  And as fate would have it, I was lying on the zipper part and the foam piece that I sleep on inside the tent was vertical to me and I was still tangled up in my flannel sheet and two blankets.  And I had to pee.  Seriously had to pee.

I quickly raced through my options.  I could try to call out to my husband who is upstairs sleeping but I had heard him up and about earlier and so I really hated to wake him up since he needs his sleep plus I had neglected to bring down my Jammies and so I was just in my Lady Jockeys and even though we have been married almost 33 years, I didn’t feel that being woken up and having to see your wife trapped in a giant pink tent on it’s side, wrapped up like some kind of blanket burrito with her old lady ta-tas every which way but pert, was really gonna add the right kind of spark to our marriage.   By now between the icy cold floor and a bladder that must have moved down after my hysterectomy, there is a much more dire situation taking place.  If you know what I mean…..

My only hope was to try to fling my burrito body up to the other side of the tent to where the other zipper is before I drowned in my own bodily fluid.  Two tries and I was up and like an oversized elephant seal, I maneuvered my encased body to find the zipper.  Now mind you, this is all in the dark.  When I fell off the bed, my tent hit my bench which had my cell phone on it and it was buried under the tent so there was no way to get at it.   I quickly unzipped the tent flap and rolled out onto the floor.  I struggled to get out of the blanket tomb and raced upstairs to the loo.  Ta-tas flying all akimbo, not worrying if the neighbors could see me since I have no curtains on the windows next to the stairs and I leave my “Christmas” lights on so if I have to come up at night, I can see my way.  I had one thought and one thought only.  GET TO THE TOILET.

As it turned out, I woke up my husband anyway as I was getting another pair of Lady Jockeys from the drawers.  When he asked me what I was doing, and I told him I had fallen out of bed and been trapped, he nonchalantly asked if I was okay and did I want to crawl in with him and the dog.  After 33 of marriage, he no longer is surprised by what happens to me.  I am not sure if that is a good thing or not.

So now I am bedless until my new bed comes from Amazon.  I think I will skip the self-inflation, three settings, bed and just get a cheaper one since I now know that I will need a new one next year anyway.  And I probably will have a story to go along with the demise of that one….

Off to order my new bed,

Your deflated, but still alive Queen

Lord, Don’t Let Me Get Rich


img_1181The last thing on this earth that I would want is to be rich.  I know that sounds like crazy talk but I am totally sane on this topic.  I would be a terrible rich person.

I am an introvert and so what good would having a ton of money do me?  Buy new clothes?  What for, I never go anywhere.


Jewelry?  Not really interested in new jewels,  and I could and would go nuts buying vintage costume jewelry to make stuff out of.

A new house?  I like the house I have and I love my neighbors so moving away isn’t an option.  Tho, I would love an indoor-inground swimming pool in it’s own building that I could use year round.

img_1180A new car?  Actually, I could use a new vehicle but how on earth would I be able to choose if money was no object?  I think I would rather just restore my 1960 circa Suburban.  It would be so cool to be able to drive it and since I go out so rarely, it would stay in the garage most of the time anyway.

img_1183Oh I suppose I could travel but I get tired so easily that sightseeing is out and there is that introvert thing so I would probably just stay in and to be gone longer than 3 weeks away from grands would be torture.  img_1184


Bertrand Russell said, “TO BE WITHOUT SOME OF THE THINGS YOU WANT IS AN INDISPENSABLE PART OF HAPPINESS”.   I fully agree.  At least for me.

img_1179I already am wealthy beyond measure by my standards.

I have a husband who loves me just as I am.

I have a daughter and son-in-law who love me and four fantastic and healthy grandkids who live just 15 miles away.

I have a mother who at almost 85, still lives alone and is super active and healthy.

I have a sister who thinks I am a “bubble off of plumb” but still loves me and likes getting together with me and our mother.

I have super friends, who love me as I am (and that is saying A LOT!)

I do not have to be employed.  That is a huge blessing to me as just daily living is hard most of the time.

I have the time and the means to pursue that which I am interested in (and I have the school bus full of unused art supplies to back that up!)

When we were newly married and pretty “poor”, my idea of wealth was to be able to go into the grocery store and buy anything I wanted and to not have to bring a calculator to make sure I didn’t have more than I could pay for!  I have been that wealthy for years but rarely ever do the shopping anymore.

So you see, I am wealthy and to add more money to my life would only make me miserable (I used to have a shopping problem!).  It would be wonderful to give tons of money away but even that has it’s stresses and I am trying so hard to de-stress my life.  So Lord, please give the money you might have given to me to someone else who needs it more.  I will be so grateful and so will they!

May you all have enough,

Your blessed by true riches Queen

Fashion Platter


Gilda Radner said, “I base most of my fashion taste on what doesn’t itch”.

I base my fashion taste on what doesn’t itch; what will fit; what it costs; is it black; does it fit my fashion “personality”;  and do I really need it.

This is a shot of my closet (that I share with my husband) and no, it doesn’t have a door on it.  I had wanted hippy beads or something like that hanging from the doorway but past experience has taught me that if something gets in the way of my husband or he finds it a pain to deal with, it will be gone in a flash and I did not want to spend hours on my knees trying to locate every last hippy bead that was rolling around my bedroom floor because experience has also taught me if I leave or drop something, my hubs is sure to step on it or sit on it or in some way injure himself on it.  So I left it alone (sometimes I do have a drop of common sense).

img_1165First thing you will notice is most of my clothing is black.  I love black.  It goes with everything including my ever-changing hair colors.  It is supposed to be slimming but once you get to my size, there is no color, fabric or print that can hide this chunkitude.

Did you know that there are different hues of black?  And of course, the more you wash something black, the “browner” it gets.  So having all black clothing isn’t as easy as just throwing two black pieces together.  The hues must match or it throws off the feng shui of your outfit and it will cause people to look at you and wonder “what’s wrong with this picture”.   That is where my kimonos and tunics and capes/ponchos come in.  My fashion dream is to have a long sleeved, v-necked, spanx-like, catsuit in black and a whole closet full of unusual kimonos and tunics that I would just throw on over the dream catsuit. (For those of you who are picturing Michelle Pfeiffer in her Catwoman suit, that is sort of right, only picture her in a 2x size!).  I could live that fashion dream if only I lived somewhere where the temps never got above 65 degrees, and everywhere I went had AC and I never had another hot flash because you have not lived until you have been in a catsuit and have sweated profusely.  It is not pleasant for the catsuit wearer or for those around the aforementioned person.  Talk about creating your own “personal space”….who-eeee.

So there you have it, folks.  More info on my personal style than you ever wanted to know.

Til the morrow,

I remain your TMI Queen

Love Thy Neighbor


I have lived in my neighborhood (do you call it a neighborhood when you live in the country or is it called a community or an area?) for almost 28 years.  We are the oldest (as far as years lived in our house) family on our road.  But I can pretty much guarantee that when someone gives directions to a local, they still call it, “Ole Johnson’s old place” even though old Ole and his wife, Rachel, have been gone to that big farmstead in the sky for more than 50 years and the house has had just a handful of owners since then.

But it is not my house and it’s history that I want to tell you about.  It is my neighbors I want to brag about.

When we first moved here, the woman who lived directly across the road from us befriended me.  She was a feisty older woman who was a war bride from Germany.  She kept me informed on the local gossip even though I had no clue as to whom she was talking about.  We did not attend a church up here, nor did our daughter go to the local school so finding friends in the area proved pretty difficult.  It was mostly the older women who were friends of my neighbor whom I met.

Then slowly over the years, the older folks moved on, and a few of the houses on my road suddenly had younger women in them.  But they had jobs and only one of them had a child around my daughter’s age but it was a boy and he was not interested in playing with a “girl” so I came up with a brilliant idea (all my ideas are brilliant-tho, my husband sometimes calls them something else).  I got the names and addresses of my new neighbors from the local Postmistress (who was one of the older ladies who had befriended me) and I decided that I would invite them all over for a Christmas get together.

My daughter and I worked hard making cookies and decorating in anticipation of having company.  Our house was much smaller then and to sit more than four people at my expandable table, we had to put it at an angle and it made getting into the bedroom almost impossible and to get into the kitchen once everyone was seated took the skills of a contortionist.  But I never let things like that bother me when I am hosting a party.  What I lack in normal seating space, I make up for with ingenuity!

I had never met one of the new gals but the Postmistress had told me her name was Peggy and so when she knocked at the door, I warmly opened it up and said, “Hi Peggy”, to which she replied, “My name is Margaret and I don’t go by Peggy”!   I often wonder if the Postmistress got her name mixed up with the previous local family that lived there who’s name really was Peggy!

That first Christmas party was the beginning of a friendship that has been going strong now for more than two decades.  In that time, we have seen babies born, grown up, graduated, and even gone on to have kids of their own.  We have added new neighbors to our friendship circle and have wept at the graveside of some of our dearest friends.  We have shared our lives, our victories, our failures, our dreams and our fears.  We love each other fiercely and protectively.  Hurt my neighbor/friend and you hurt me.

I love this collection of friends.  We are all vastly different.  We have different political views and opinions.  We have different life styles.  We parent differently and cope with life differently.  But our “heart connection” keeps us together.  We may not get together as often as we used to but when we do, the laughter rings out, the hugs are tight and long, we eat, we talk, we watch an occasional “chick flick” but mostly we bond even greater….like old dreadlocks that get tighter and tighter the longer they are grown.  We are matted in each other’s lives.

I do not know what I would do without this bunch of women (and their husbands, and the other men in my area who are always so willing to help out).

Years ago, one of our deceased (and sweetest) friends, declared that we were like serotonin, in the fact that we made each other feel good!  So we decided that we would be the Founding Chapter of the American Society of Serotonin Sisters or as we call ourselves, “the ASS’S”.   I am pretty much the head ASSS as the get togethers are usually at my place.

Here is one of my favorite photos taken a few months ago…I was demonstrating my getting out of my new tub dilemma.


I chose wisely,

Your neighbor in cyberspace,


Insanity of 2017



This new year is only 11 days old and already I am pretty sure it will be the year of Insanity.

Folks are going insane over the new president-elect and his pick of cabinet members, staffers, his hair style and fake bake tan, and more issues than I care to comment about.

Celebrities are using their allotted time at award shows to voice their opinions of how America is going to end up in the toilet instead of thanking the organizations and people who helped them get to the award in the first place.

But the absolute craziest thing I have heard in these past 11 days of 2017 is that Jenna Bush Hager DELIBERATELY melded two top motion pictures staring African Americans in to one movie “cause all civil rights movies are the same”.


To mess up two movie titles….”Hidden Figures” and “Fences” into “Hidden Fences” when congratulating Pharrell for being nominated, is so not a major catastrophic event!  Michael Keaton also called Hidden Figures “Hidden Fences” when presenting the award for best actress but where is the backlash for him.  Or what about Al Roker calling Jessica Biel, “Jessica Alba” but his mistake was reshot so the audience did not see his gaff.

Seriously folks?   Has it come to this?  That we are so thin-skinned that a simple mistake can make national news if not global news?  Is there not enough real news to keep us entertained?  Or have we become social buzzards, circling one another just waiting for an opportunity to present itself so we can swoop down and start ripping the flesh off of our fellow man?

I fear for humanity and not because of any politician or government policy.  I fear for humanity because of the lack of common sense we are exhibiting.  The hatred I see all around this world for our fellow humans is at a demonic level.

God save us from ourselves,

Your heartbroken Queen

Junk Stash=Creativity


Thomas A. Edison, one of the world’s greatest inventors said, “To invent, you need a good imagination and a pile of junk”.

I have taken that quote to heart.

At the moment my junk/craft/art stuff is in various places….some is in my “bedwomb”, some is in my little house that I dream of making into my own tiny house someday, some is in my full-size non-running school bus and some is in a little workroom attached to our not-yet finished showroom in Carlton.  Oh and on my dining room table… I was crafting this past weekend with my mom and sister and I did not finish my project so as usual, I just leave it sitting out in the hopes that I will sit down and finish it (I believe the definition of insanity is where you keep doing the same thing over and over and expect a different result?  If so, I am certifiably insane when it come to finishing projects).

Here is my inspiration for my project:img_1159

But here is my reality….partially finished….


It is going to look like a peacock in a ball gown or a Bjork dress……and it will weigh 5 pounds or more and I will need a railroad spike to get it to stay on my wall in my bedwomb.

And here is the mess that has been on the table since Saturday and will probably be there until I need the table this Saturday.  And then everything will get put in a big box and hidden in the bedroom along with the boxes from this past weekend’s house purge.


Creative people have such imaginations that to throw something out is very hard for us because we never know if we may need it for a project.  I do not keep old newspapers, food wrappers, dust balls (tho I did once save dryer lint to stuff some of my creations with until I read that it is really flammable!) dog hair mixed with dust tumbleweeds (tho I would if I could think of a need for it!) or toe nail clippings (but I did once use my dog’s big black clipped nails as nails for a giant rat I made!)

Just think tho, if Edison had not had his junk piles, we would still be using gas to light our homes and run our computers!!!!  So there is hope for me yet….

Until Humpday,

I remain your “never met a piece of junk I couldn’t use in something” Queen

My Mother



How he knew my mother, I’ll never know.

This weekend my sister and Mother came up for one of our overnighters.  We try to do it every six weeks or so and it is usually at my house since my husband treats us like Queens and cooks fantastic meals for us (plus he gets to side with Mother when she gets on me about my housekeeping/cooking/hair/etc.).

I try to make sure we have a fun craft to do (or we will have to play Farkel).  This time I had them make something out of antique jewelry/beads/buttons on a canvass.  Mother decided right away to make the letter “R” but it took Jodi a good hour or so to finally decide that she was going to do the letter “M” for her new house.  I had much loftier plans and hand-drew a weird looking peacock.

Because in my dream world, I am going to make unique necklaces out of old jewelry and charms and vintage Cracker Jack toys, I had gobs of this kind of stuff.  And a couple of different kinds of glue.  I always find it interesting when doing crafts with people, some jump right in, others question each and every decision and have to ask , “Is this right?”….”Am I doing it right?”….”Should I use this?”.   Mother is like that.  Which rather surprises me since she is very artistic in her own right but I think it stems from her generation of women who always worried about “what others might think” instead of what they themselves thought.  Jodi just plows right in.

Mother cannot help but give “suggestions” to both Jodi and I on what we “SHOULD” use for our projects no matter how many times we tell her we are doing OK on our own.  (Once a mother, always a mother, I guess!).


We always have great fun being together but at least once during the 26 hours they are here, Mother gets “offended” at our teasing and laughing “with” her and threatens to leave, which brings even more laughter because Jodi drives or she says she isn’t going to talk any more (which never lasts long!).

Mother has much more energy than Jodi and I and she gets mad when we say we are tired and want to go to sleep before 1am.  She calls us party poopers.  It used to be ok since she and Jodi would sleep in my great room and the big TV was in there.  She would turn on the Golden Girls and watch TV till she got tired.  This time was different since we moved the TV to our lower livingroom and there is just one couch down there which Jodi decided to sleep on since it was so stinkin’ cold upstairs and the lower living room has a wood burning stove.  Poor Mother had to lay upstairs and just wait to fall asleep in the cold great room….(she usually says it’s so cold in there that she can’t sleep well cause her nose is too cold!  The room has in-floor heating but it hasn’t worked in three years so it can get a bit “nippy” in there!)

There is always a power struggle on Sunday mornings as to who makes the coffee.  Scott and I drink it STRONG and Mother and Jodi use just enough coffee so the water isn’t clear.  This Sunday Mother made the “coffee” and when I asked her how many scoops she put in, she said, “Four…was that too many”?   We use TEN!  I thought she and Jodi were going to fall off the couch when I told her that.  I had to get out my little camping pot and make Scott and I each a cup of REAL coffee as he prepared breakfast.

After a huge breakfast of stuffed omelettes, we played cards.  In addition to making up craft projects, I always try to either make up a new card game or mutate a classic game.  This week it was Kings in a Corner and since we play for money, I said that if you forgot to draw a card you had to pay each person a quarter; if you missed a play it was a quarter to the person who caught it; if you left an open spot you paid a quarter to the person who’s turn it was next who caught it; and who ever won the game got a dollar from everyone.  Mother complained each and every turn.  Bad cards, cards of all one color, bad cards being played, and when she would miss a play she would blame us for not having the kings in the EXACT corners or for distracting her.  Mother is a terrible loser we have discovered!  And of course, Jodi and I laugh so hard during all of this that sometimes we make ourselves sick….and Mother says she isn’t coming up ever again!

Oh that Ruby….she always tells us, “You are going to miss me when I am gone and then who will you two have to pick on”.  And she is dead right.  Laugh and joke as we will about Mother, she is our glue, our beacon, our defender, our EVERYTHING and we LOVE HER and would not change a thing about her (cause then what would we have to laugh at???).  Jodi and I are blessed and grateful to call her our mom!

img_1154Til next time,

Your Queen who is more like her mother than she would like you to know!




img_1145Nothing motivates me more than a deadline…..and as a person who has very few deadlines now in her life, you would think that I would get the projects done in a timely manner since I have basically nothing going on in my life….but you would be wrong.  Dead wrong…..

Our accountant will tell you that she has to practically beg me to get her the info she needs to complete all of the business stuff that she does for us to keep us out of prison.  And it’s not that hard to compile but there it sits, waiting and waiting for me to scan it to her.  I do have a valid (?) excuse this time as we got a new printer and it is way more complicated than our old one and I have yet to figure out how to scan to the computer, or how to even make copies and syncing it to my ipad so I can print via Wi-Fi is just more than our senior minds can handle.  As soon as I get my “old age” monthly money, I will go and buy myself an uncomplicated, bare bones, easy to understand, printer/copier/scanner…..not that I still won’t miss deadlines but at least I have a passing chance to try to make them.

I used to do small craft shows and I would be up almost all night the eve before the show finishing projects.  Poor O’Neill as she would stay up helping me as she feared for my health (I would always get an aching pain in my right side when I was under pressure) and for my mental faculties (which, by then, were borderline schizo).  And every year I would VOW that I wasn’t going to do those last minute, late night, projects but lo and behold, as most of my promises seem to go, I broke it.  Year after crazy year….

Right now, I am behind on filing our WI state sales taxes and sending deposit refunds to renters (we own 48 storage units in Carlton) who have moved out in December.  Not to mention a list a mile long of other things that are waiting on my “DO NOW” list (some have been on the list for MONTHS).  I. Can’t. Even.

Yours till tomorrow (maybe),

The Queen of broken deadlines


Lost? Who? Me?



I beg to differ.

Never do I park my car and remember exactly where I parked it.  If you total up the number of hours I have spent wandering around parking lots and garages, it would add up to be years.  Years I could have spent doing something else….like cleaning my house….(as if that would ever have happened…hahaha…I kill myself)

Someone needs to take a day and just video people coming out of stores and looking for their cars.  As much as I love my sex, I would have to guess most women get that look of semi-panic when they try to remember which parking lane they are in.  Men don’t seem to have as much trouble as we do but neither do they have as much on their minds as we do.  A man goes into a store for three items and he comes out with three items.  Boom.  In and out.  A woman goes in for three items and hours later we come out with 26 other items, a new purse, some make-up, and three pieces of clothing that we couldn’t pass up because THEY WERE ON SALE and if we didn’t have a list of the three things we went in for, there is a distinct possibility we forgot to get them (what with so many things to look at and those dang CLEARANCE SALE banners, it’s no wonder we get distracted!) so as we are leaving the store our minds are fully engaged in three thoughts:

1. How did I possibly spend so much money?  I better check my receipt cause I know I must have been overcharged.

2. Should I go back in and get those matching pants, after all they are ON SALE!

3. How will I get all these packages into the house without being seen.

So where we parked the car is not a high priority in our brain space at that moment.

We schelp our carts up and down the lanes, trying not to look lost but just knowing some man who is in a car waiting for his wife is watching us with a look of wry humor.

I used to remotely start my car and sometimes that helped unless it was winter and half the cars in the lots were locked but left running.  I was always tempted to use the “panic” button so my car would call out to me but I was always more terrified of not being able to turn it off and then a crowd would gather and see my shame (but all the women would thank their lucky stars it didn’t happen to them because they, too, had thought about hitting that panic button!).

So sisters, the next time you see a woman wandering aimlessly around a parking lot, give her a big smile and a “thumbs up”.  She will appreciate that gesture of solidarity!

Till the morrow,

I remain your ever-wandering Queen

Finding Time


Today’s quote comes from John L. Spalding  (whoever he is?)


Ain’t that the truth!

I get up at least two hours earlier than I would need to just so I can have time to drink a cup of coffee and check out Facebook before I start to get ready to go out.  Many times I am late to wherever I am supposed to be because I underestimated the time it would take me to get ready.  My husband says it’s because I am “rebellious” and no one is going to make me do or be on time.  But I disagree since I am late even for the things I really want to do!

I was even late getting to O’Neill’s wedding!  No, the wedding hadn’t started but I was supposed to be there for photos, etc., an hour before I actually got there!  I have told Paster Dave that my funeral needs to be at least 20 minutes late or people won’t believe it’s me in the coffin…(NO OPEN CASKET….remember me as I was).

So what is it that you love so much in your life that no matter what, you make time for it?  And do you ever feel guilty for using time that perhaps might have been better used elsewhere?  Oh, I sure do.  What did I do with the hours I now spend online back before the internet?  And what about all the years we chose not to have a TV in our house?  I know for sure, I did not spend my time cleaning even back then!

Until tomorrow,

I remain your time challenged Queen