Junk in the trunk and Rolling along.

Happy Friday!

I'm comfortable

Sent to me via email: “I am comfortable, thanks for asking”


I was dumbstruck yesterday when I saw the storm damage in Alabama and surrounding states. I just want to help all the victims there!!!!  So heartbreaking. Prayers for all those in need.


*Someone* went to the Dr. this week for a mysterious skin growth.

*Someone* left the Dr. knowing that she had gained too much weight and needs to get some junk out of her trunk.

Now that’s embarrassing.


If you can’t get your tights up over your hips…you need to skip the morning cookies.

‘nuff said.


Well, I must go easy on Cocoa now…because I had ONE OF THOSE DAYS yesterday. I worked in the yard in the morning and the rest of the day I spent going from the fridge to the pantry. And then the pantry to the fridge. and so on…and so on…I could not find anything that tasted good…so I kept on trying. ALL.DAY.LONG.

By 7pm, I felt like this:

And today, I am full AND I want a French bulldog. Even if the Coach says they look like pigs who mated with aliens. That would be a palien. Or an aliepig. Oink.


Have a beautiful weekend doing something fun, unless it involves cookies. I’m just sayin’…..



Mary J*ne who?

Mary J*ne you.

I think I have posted this Easter photo before; it brings me such delight.


My brother Mark, poised, polished, alert.

Me: Stoned. 

(we won’t mention the shortness of this dress!)

I recall hearing my Mom tell stories of the Dr.’s giving pregnant women some sort of ‘speed’ drug while they were preggers back in the day. I don’t know why…perhaps to keep them thin?

I swear though…each time I see this photo, My MOM must have ingested a humongous amount of Mary J*ne brownies instead of the speed stuff. Maybe she had one of those free loving hippie Dr.’s. GetAttachment_thumb

The residual lasted for years. I may have been ok most of the year, but come Easter Sunday…when I caught sight of my Easter basket with all that grass in it….I was toast.


Thank you all for your encouraging words on my last ‘stressed’ post about my kids. I have taken matters into my own hands and we won’t be having anymore boy issues.

If you would like to contact my children, send me a note. I will slip it under the closet door for them. They will be out in about 12 years.

“Yes, I know it is dark in there…get USED to IT!”



Peace out ya’ll!   


(I wonder if that lady is still smokin’?)