Can you tell me how to get, how to get out of Funky Town?

Can you hear the opening song to Sesame Street and NOT smile?
No. You can’t.



The Coach and I were able to see the sunset via the boat this past weekend.

 

The beaches are closed, but luckily the Gulf of Mexico is still open.
For now. 

I’ve been in a bit of a funk. Not sad; just feeling funky.

I’m itching to get some garden work done; updating my veggie garden. I have a plan but need to execute it and finding a day where my arm isn’t bothering me is a problem.

Also, I’m itching to get to my happy place; my local nursery.
They’re open, but I’m not going because it’s really unnecessary.

I’d like to be acknowledged for actually following the rules.

Should I wait by the mailbox for my acknowledgment gifts?  

If you say I need something for my itching, you’re not wrong.

I started rereading this book this week; It’s been about 20 years since I read it last.

 

I don’t remember the details of the story, but if I kept the book this long, I must’ve really loved it.

 
 
I am staying busy with daily household chores and my butterfly raising. 
Our yard is a flurry of butterflies; lots of different flavors; not just monarchs. 
 
I found a slew of zebra longwing and gulf fritillary larvae in my bed of plumbago the other day and I was so excited I might have had to change my outfit. 
 
 
Their host plant is Passion vine…so, apparently, passion vine found it’s way into this bed without even asking me.
 
THAT fills my little funky heart to the brim. 
 
How are my people on this fine Monday?
Wait, Tuesday?
Yeah, Tuesday.

 

XOXO

 

The one where I thought I had nothing to say. Also, Bev’s birthday.

Do you ever have those days, weeks, or months where you have nothing to say?

Me neither.

But this week I’ve been quiet.
It’s been a weird week. I’ve had some things come up; some distractions.

Can I say that I miss doing my puzzle?

Lord. I’m hopeless.

Things I also miss:

*Hugging people; mostly my girls. But also my friends.

*My gym, my fitness coach, and my gym people. (I may be the youngest at our gym and it’s literally like Cheers, where everybody knows your name)

{Am I the Norm of our Gym? Maybe}

*Marshalls, Home Goods, TJ Maxx. I know. It’s petty, but I do enjoy my outings.

*Publix. I miss just running in for one or two things. I know, I will NEVER take grocery shopping for granted again. Never.

*Dining out. The Coach and I have had a standing Friday night date night for many years; I miss going out for dinner. But, we’ve been ordering in (or picking up) at least one night a week.

Listen, this is my petty little list and really, I’m NOT complaining. It’s just things that I miss.

Can I count my blessing? Oh HELL yes.

*My people are healthy.
*Our business is still in motion.
*I have money in the bank to pay bills.

We are fortunate.
I wish everyone was as fortunate.

***

Tomorrow would be my Mom’s 77th birthday. For the past few years, one or two of my favorite people (when available) join me for two of my Mom’s three favorite things:
Mexican food and a margarita.

Her third favorite thing? Latin men.

We, being married women and all we generally skip those.

Plus, she was known to be a bad pecker picker; starting with my Dad and she went downhill from there. I’m not badmouthing her; she knew it too.

So, tomorrow we are going to attempt to have margaritas together via Zoom; it will be my first time.
For the zoom, not the margarita.
Now I’m wondering how I can get some Mexican food too.

{Suz and Bev at her 72nd birthday. Guess what we were eating and drinking?}

My mom LOVED my blog. She would call me and say: YOU are so funny.
OR she’d say: Who were you referring to in that post?
Or she would complain that I didn’t blog enough.

Now that I write all that, she sounded demanding.

For someone who had nothing to say, I found some words to share today.

Wishing you all a good weekend and if you have the ingredients, have a margarita in Beverly’s honor on Saturday. She was the best Mom I ever had and I miss her terribly.

If you are fortunate enough to have one or both parents, call them this weekend, it’s the least you can do.

I’m not even a Jewish mom, but I can make y’all feel guilty, can’t I?

XO

Captains Log: Day 28 or 399? Garden vlog, puzzle upgrade and a plethora of smokers.

Friday morning I did a little garden vlog. Hold onto your seats, it’s riveting.

Excuse the noise; pool equipment, pool fountain, and air conditioner because Florida.

***

We had a nice, quiet and productive weekend.
Saturday we got our first delivery (insta-cart) from Costco; it went well.
The funny thing is they won’t deliver to our house, but they will deliver to our rental condo.
(zip code snobs)
So, I set up the delivery time and we chilled and waited: (our big outing for the weekend) our delivery guy was right on time.

The Coach was watching a fishing show (also riveting) on TV when I said I was ready to go home with our goods.

He said, “what do you need to get home for?”

I replied slightly embarrassed: “I have a new puzzle.”

Good lord. Send help ASAP. 

We got everything on our list aside from

*ONE THING*

Can you guess what we couldn’t get? 

***

Speaking of puzzles, because apparently, I can’t NOT speak of them. The new one that Linds stumbled upon in Target while getting her essentials is THE. BOMB.COM.

The one I had been struggling with for many weeks, and finally finished, well, it turns out it might have been from the bargain bin at Wally World.

The one Linds picked up? Ummmm…it’s top freaking shelf. Like Nordstroms top shelf.
Wait, does top shelf mean liquor? Well, then it’s way better than Albertsons Vodka; that sort of top-shelf.

I didn’t even know there was a hierarchy in the land of puzzles, but I’m here to tell you, there is one.

The pieces feel different; like they’re made from the remnants of a baby bird’s feathers that have been mixed with the recycling goods from the Taj Mahal.

Wait. That sounds kind of gross. WHO AM I? 

I’m just a girl. Standing in front of a puzzle. Hoping it will help me to solve it. 

 

*ahem, almost a quote from Notting Hill which I watched a few weeks ago and It’s one movie Ernie
can quote*

Such a good RomCom.

***

On Sunday I pressure washed the pool lanai and outside furniture while the Coach put together his newest smoker.

Not only is he a Goldilocks with his chairs/office, but he’s also Goldilocks with his smokers.

He has the HUGE tow-behind one that requires a big azz truck and a small smoker/box but needed a medium-sized one too.

{Small and Medium side by side; the new one looks like a time machine. I suppose it IS a time machine for meat.}

He doesn’t complain about my shoes/plants/garden/skincare addictions, so, would I ever complain about his smoker issue? 
Hell.to.the.no.

So, it’s Monday. Let me check my calendar and see what’s happening this week.

Well, it looks like I’m TOTALLY open if anyone wants to get together.

Or not.

Have a good one my people.
XO

I’m certified and I’m finished.

My gardens are officially certified.
And you thought I was just certifiable.

Notice my Monarch model; he approved the signage.

Bona-fide.
Authorized.
To be prized.
I’m rambling here.

I wish I could ditch the electrical boxes and irrigation stuff off the walls, but electricity and irrigation are essential to me.
Also, this is the side of our house, not the front. The front is prettier. But don’t tell the sides and back; they’ve never met.

I’m sure the signs will lure even more butterflies to my lair.

I really try to keep my posts short and sweet so I don’t lose anyone, but I never know where exactly to stop.

Stop here? 

Maybe stop here?

Nope.more.to.chatter.about

The puzzle is finished.

Can I stop talking about that damn puzzle already? 
No. I can not.

I know, you were probably not sleeping a minute wondering how I was doing with it; it’s finally done and yes, I was missing two pieces. MAX!!

I complained to Linds that it was hard to do because my right arm hurt so much.

Linds: Do it with your left arm.

Why do my children use logic against me?

When I was finished, I wrote a note on the box for my future self or someone else’s future self that two pieces are missing and I sharpied the spots on the box.

If my arm felt better, I’d pat myself on the back for that.

Actually, my arm is feeling a bit better. Thank you all for your wonderful advice; it’s appreciated.
Also, icing it a few times a day has been awesome and something I didn’t think to do before. *duhh*
It’s no picnic being me.

NOW, I’m done.

Kidding.

Does anyone have plans for the weekend?

Suzanne, that was cruel and uncalled for.

Oh, wait.
One more thing.

Our marina has opened back up (with VERY limited contact) so the Coach is excited to get on his boat and go fishing tomorrow. He’s been working a lot and being home with me a lot.
He needs some fun because I can only entertain him so much; that wasn’t a part of our vows.

I DO wish you all a nice weekend doing something you enjoy with people that you can semi-stand being around.
I consider myself fortunate in that way.
I never thought to ask my husband how he felt about it.
Probably just as well…

Bee good
Bee silly
Bee well

XOXO

I hope I don’t regret not having a title for this mess.

It’s come to my attention that I have a lot of feelings.

Good ones.
Sad ones.
Really, really bad ones.

Just kidding about the bad ones, but I do love a sing-song rhyme.

Also, spell check always tells me that I don’t’ know how to spell rhyme.

People always say to live your life without regret.
Who are these people and why should we listen to them?

{not my tattoo nor my decolletage}

How does one live without regret? Like, NOT one regret? 
I’m not buying what they’re selling.

My regrets; I have a few.

I regret being an anal-retentive Mother when my girls were little. I know exactly *why I was like that 
and I don’t believe they are scarred, but still, I could have been a ‘lighter’ person.

I regret some of the times I didn’t answer the phone when my Mom called me.

I regret all the times I stressed over buying and wearing a bathing suit. From the time I was 15 until now; I stressed whether I was 95lbs or 140lbs.

I regret not wearing sunscreen on my decolletage during my teen years.

Upcoming evidence of feelings all over the place.

This song was on my mind the other day.
When my Mom was in hospice we played some music for her.
Me: Oh, she loves this song (she really did) so I started playing it. 

After a minute or so, my Aunt Trisha said: Yeah, she likes that song, but she really loves this one.

My Mom was heavily sedated and hadn’t communicated in hours, but she twitched when this song came on. I know she was trying to dance.

When I was a kid and she would dance/drive in the car at hearing a good song…Why did that mortify me? 
Dance/driving is the best.

I don’t regret dropping everything and spending copious amounts of time with my Mom in ATL when she was sick.

I don’t regret a single day of actually being a Mom or a Wife. (I capitalized on those as they are both positions that I take seriously.)

I don’t regret knowing the word decolletage; it’s an interesting word.

I might regret hitting publish on this post.

XO

The one where Easter was in the distance, a puzzle eater and my !&%$ tennis arm

I hope everyone had as pleasant an Easter as possible. Generally, we have the girls here and my FIL and MIL too. 
I spoke to everyone yesterday on the phone, but yeah, it’s not the same. 
I did see Linds on Saturday; I had a little bit of Easter stuff for her and her sister so I met her in front of her building. 
We talked for about 10 minutes but it was so freaking hot so I left. 
No hugs. 
That’s the hardest part for me; we are a touchy-feeling family. 
But not in the perverted way. 
Easter bags in lieu of Easter baskets. 
I spent most of the day on the phone either talking or texting and trying to finish a 750 piece puzzle. If I got paid to complete puzzles, we’d be living in your back yard in a tent. Who wants us? 

Also, Max loves sitting UNDER my chair while I’m puzzling. My boobs sometimes knock pieces on the floor and a few times I found him nibbling them. The pieces, not my boobs. 
I know for sure one piece was nibbled beyond recognition and I’m hoping that’s it. 
But, every time I get into a puzzling quandary, I wonder:
“Am I looking for the nibbled beyond recognition piece right now?”

This was the only puzzle I had in the house made for adults and it’s a challenge for me; further cementing the fact that I might not be an adult. 
Linds went to Target the other day for her supplies and I asked her to look for a puzzle for me and I’d exchange her Easter stuff for the puzzle. 
She said they had TWO in the store and she got me the biggest one; 1000 pieces. 
ME: “I can only do one that is 750 pieces.”
Linds: “Well, just don’t finish it then.”

I don’t know where they get it from. 
I really don’t want to complain because of all that is going on and most people have real, solid problems and health issues. But, my arm is killing me. 
The tennis elbow came back a few weeks ago with a vengeance. 
I have one of the brace thingys that is supposed to help and I’ve been doing some exercises/stretches that I found online, but it’s not helping. Sleeping is a b*tch. 
I even noted to Linds on the phone that I would be willing to try some medicinal Maryjane or even topical Maryjane. It hurts from my fingers to my shoulder and guess what? I use my right arm for everything. 
My left arm/hand? It’s almost useless. It can’t do anything for me. So. there. That’s my complaint and I’ll keep moving on with my great life of not living in a tent in your back yard and being healthy otherwise. 
XOXO

Always remember the Lilies {or not}

This post was originally shared in 2011, but it’s fitting for the Easter season and it’s fitting to remember what a character my Grandma was. 

Does any flower scream Easter like the Lily?
Well, for me, there is none other.

As a child, going to church with Grandma I vividly remember the Easter lilies all lined up near the pulpit.

I remember reading through the church bulletin during the Easter service about WHO the lilies were for as they were all purchased in memoriam for someone.

I remember seeing that Grandma purchased one for my Grandpa after he died.
I would look towards the pulpit…wondering which one was ‘his’.

Years later, I would read that there was a lily placed in my Brother’s name.

And two Easters later, my Dad was added to the Easter Lilly collection.

Sadly, our family was filling up the lily section.

Cut to a few years ago when Grandma was still alive and in her mid 90’s; she could no longer get to church for any services.

So Easter morning, the coach and I with the girls loaded up our car and made the hour & forty-minute trek to Grandma’s house in Miami to celebrate Easter.

I had the biggest, whitest lily in the back of the car for Grandma.

When we arrived, she was happy to see us all. She was always happy to see us.

When I handed her the big ole’ white lily…she looked at it, she then looked at me.

I said: Isn’t it beautiful?

Grandma: Lilies always remind me of funerals. And they stink. I don’t care for them. 

Good lord; I should have known.
 great grandma[5]

That woman could not filter her thoughts whatsoever.
So now, whenever I see a lily…I remember HER.

And then my thoughts roam to stinky funerals; then back to her and her unfiltered funny as heck self.

Do you remember when she called me a PERVERT?  Gosh, what are the chances of anyone ever calling me that again?

Wishing everyone a nice Easter wherever you are and with whoever you’re with.

XOXO