Susan doesn’t live here anymore. Or ever.

 

This isn’t the first time I’ve complained about this and it certainly won’t be the last time either. So many people refuse to recognize, understand, or HEAR that my name is Suzanne.

Say it with me: SOO + ZAN

The following scenario happens at least eleventy thousand times a year:

Hostess/order taker/receptionist/phone call person:

Can I get your name? Suzanne.

Person: OK,  Susan. 

Occasionally I get a Susanna, a Sue, or a Suzie.

Those are refreshingly wrong names.

But…

That’s NOT my name. That’s NOT MY NAME!

That song is so good; it makes my toes wiggle and my thighs jiggle.

It became a running joke and my girls would call me Susan too.

{Side note; my Dad would lose his shit if we called him by his name, Phil. Why?}

I happen to love the name, Susan.

My MIL is Susan; although she goes by Sue.

Susan is a beautiful name.  but.it.aint.my.damn.name. 

It makes me wonder. Did Suzanne Sommers ever get called Susan?

Oh, snap.

I just remembered that I wasn’t on a hit TV sitcom in the ’70s, nor did I promote the thigh master.

*looks disappointingly at dancing jiggly thighs*


Many, many years ago an envelope arrived in our mailbox addressed to:

Current Owner

or

Susan Maria Martinez

My silly daughters: “Oh, you’ve been lying to us all these years, that is your real name!”

Damn. I’ve been found out after 40 years.

Now they had a new nickname for their beloved mother; Susan Maria Martinez.

That was at least 12 years ago.

And still today I’m referred to Susan Maria just when I expect Susan Maria to die.

My apologies, Susan Maria Martinez.

In this family, things just don’t die. Nicknames. Stories. Jokes. Something you said when you were five. 

Susan Maria Martinez will probably be somewhere on my epitaph.


The Coach had ordered some new ball caps for me for Mother’s day and they finally arrived this past weekend.

For when I’m Susan Maria Martinez: Mamacita!

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And of course, Mama Bear is another term of endearment.

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What would Susan do without her people? 

 

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Gifts that delight and are my ears even connected to my brain?

I forgot to tell you and I’m sure you were wondering, but I had a nice mother’s day with my girls and my soon to be SIL.

Oh….to be in the same house and talk. And talk. And talk. It was heavenly.

I mean, it’s different than the 587 times that we’ve face-timed each other.

Can we all just think for a minute how lucky my future SIL is to have me? I mean, he IS so lucky because I am the MIL of dreams.

Perhaps I should rename my blog: Mrs. Modest the Mostest?

Oh, today is Nathan’s birthday! Happy birthday Nathan!

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He makes our Lolo so darn happy. She told me once that after meeting and falling in love with him “you know when you’re out and you see a good looking guy that catches your eye, well, now they all look like potatoes to me.”

Cheers to finding the main dish and not caring about potatoes!

Now, back to me. me. me.

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PREZZIES!

Gifts from my girlies on Mother’s day; a cute mug, Reeses, tulips, nail polish, a t-shirt representing Lolo’s school, and a succulent embroidered hand towel.

Lolo taught herself to embroider even before the pandemic.

I taught myself how to grow out of my own clothing.

____________

I went to go see my dermatologist this week and then I thought since I was out, I would treat myself to some chick-fil-a.

I’ve been deprived of chick-fil-a for at least 8 weeks.

DEPRIVED.

WAS it packed? YES. But they are such geniuses; they doubled their drive-thru line.

Doubled in width, not length if that confused you.

DOUBLED. It took a few more minutes than usual, but it was worth it.

Cute chick-fil-a girl: What would you like to order today? 

Me: A diet Arnold palmer and a cobb salad, please. 

Cutie: We don’t have any salads today.

Me: Ok, a chic fil a sandwich combo with a diet Arnold palmer, no fries; the superfood salad instead.

Cutie: We don’t have any salads today. 

Me. *dead face because we both have evidence that I’m an idiot.*

I’m constantly surprised at what comes out of my mouth.

Happy Friday. Anyone doing anything fun yet?

No?

I’ll be hanging at the homestead; piddling in my gardens, sorting photos, watching Dead to Me on Netflix, thinking of other ways that I’m wonderful, complaining about laundry, etc…

Living the flipping dream.

Be well, my friends.

XOXO

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This, that and the other thing. The Princess of darkness edition.

Dr. Death

Thank you all for your positive comments on my butterfly post from Monday. I love and appreciate your accolades.

I’m not kidding…

I really, really need your accolades.

My friend Kelly was asking me a while ago how many butterflies I release each year. I wasn’t sure, but now I’m keeping a spreadsheet because: time and pandemic.

I’ve released 73 in just under a month. A boatload of butters. 

Now, for my Debbie Downer moment.

I had to put on my Jack Kevorkian pants 5 times last week.

I euthanized five butters. Well, technically I think two took their own lives.

They could neither fly nor eat; what’s the point then? 

It happens; disease. Parasites.

BTW; Jack’s pants: So.darn.tight; he was a slim man.

How do you euthanize? Well, there are two methods that I know of. One I can’t fathom.

The method I use is I put them in my fridge for about five minutes to lower the body temperature, then in the freezer, they go.

Don’t ask me how many times someone has opened up the freezer with a butterfly surprise.

WHAT?

I said DON’T ask me. 

I forget they are in there and the next time I, Coach, or a guest goes into the freezer for something: Death.

THEY say that butterflies feel no pain. Hmmm. I don’t know if I believe THEY.

I’ve gotten better at this though. I used to get upset when I had to put one in my beloved appliance, but now it’s a fact of life.

This should probably make my enemies husband nervous.

Who am I kidding? WE know I don’t have enemies.

________________

Let’s get married!

My calendar told me that I was supposed to go wedding dress shopping with Linds and Lolo today.

*sigh*

The nuptials are still planned for the Fall of 2021, but the venue and dress shopping has been postponed for a bit.

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The future Mr & Mrs. Cutie Pie.

I think a backyard wedding would suffice. Can you picture the butterfly release?

That is if they’re not all in the freezer.

___________

Housekeeping

I really need to Marie Kondo my closet again; I’ve been putting it off.

BUT, I did start to Marie Kondo my boxes and boxes and boxes of old photos. I’ve arranged to have a good lot of them scanned and saved digitally. This is a big undertaking.

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When you are the ONE who continues to live (out of parents, grandparents and siblings) you end up with ALL the photos. Which, I’m thankful for, but I need them in some sort of order for my kids so they won’t be overwhelmed by them like I am.

______

That’s all the death, despair and disappointments I have to share today.

If I say anymore we won’t have anything dreadful to talk about on Friday.

I’m kidding! Happy Humpday!

XOXO

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__________

What’s happening to me? Possible harlot action and Mom’s the word.

First. I have a bone to pick with all of you. Whatevertheheckthatmeans.

My last post was out there on THE world WIDE internet for an entire day with a misspelling in the flipping title.

No one could point that out? Help a sista’ out? 

I was so embarrassed that I almost deleted 12 years’ worth of posts.

____

What’s happening to me? 

I’ve been waking up early. I am NOT a morning person. 

Also, I wake up stiff and sore. I’m on the floor doing down-dog with the dogs trying to get this body to warm up for the day.

I’m not sure exactly what’s happening, but my only conclusion is that I’M GETTING OLD.

One morning last week I declared to the Coach: It’s Happening.

Since he’s two years ahead of me, he understands exactly what’s happening.

____

Shopping used to be a pleasure. 

I went to Publix yesterday for our grocery run. I honestly can’t remember the last time I went INTO a store because we’ve been doing delivery. Maybe a month ago? 

I thought, hey you’re a big girl Suzanne; you can do it. 

Actually, since this has all started, I’m an even BIGGER girl.

Working on that…

In the past when the shit-show started I was panicky going to the store.

The mask. Wiping the cart down. THE MASK. Don’t touch your face. Follow the arrows in the aisles. THE MASK. Your eye isn’t itching, don’t’ touch it! The mask! Don’t yell at people who are clearly not capable of following general rules. The MASK!

It felt like a version of Gilead from The Handmaids Tale.

 

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Pic borrowed from NY times

Limited conversation, limited eye contact. Surreal.

But yesterday, I was ok. I don’t love wearing the mask, but I was ok with it all.

I’m pretty darn proud of myself. Unless I wake up with the virus tomorrow. 

Before my shopping escapade, I actually put on a real bra (I’m a sadist) tinted moisturizer AND mascara; I felt like a harlot. A 1986 glamour shot harlot. 

I even wore a ring and earrings to Publix. I was feeling all sorts of crazy as I’ve not worn makeup or jewelry in quite a while. H.A.R.L.O.T

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In 1986, I decided that I wanted ALL of the blue eyeshadow; none for you! Beauty school Suz 1986.

Were those actual doorknobs that I fashioned into earrings? No wonder my Etsy shop closed.

____

I had a great post written regarding some really exciting butterfly news. Then I realized, maybe you don’t care to read an entire post about my exciting butterfly news. Do you? 

 

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It kind of feels like this was the last time I was ‘close’ with my girls. 2001?

Happy mothers day to all you mothers of humans, of critters, of dragons, aunties, grandma’s, and Dad’s who’ve stepped up when Mom fled to Vegas. Lest we forget the motha’s too.

XOXO

 

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Peer pressure at home, you can refer to me as Mother Nature and Doing some good while sitting on the couch.

Can I just tell you all, that your sweet comments really make my day?

I love when someone takes the time to visit my little corner of the world and then leave me a nice note. YOU.ROCK.

It’s like you were on your way home from the store, I just so happened to be at my mailbox when you drive by and we catch up for a few minutes.

{{virtual hugs}}

I was face-timing with the girls earlier this week, as I’ve been doing a lot.

Mostly Linds and I; she’s alone 24/7 and has in the past struggled with some health-anxiety issues; I’m proud to say, she’s killing it during this quarantine. Cooking, cleaning, working on a movie list and calling her Mom whenever she feels like it.

I’m so proud of her.

HI, LINDS!

Sometimes during our face-timing, we can drag Lolo away from her dog and school work.

I distinctly remember when they were little and when one wanted to talk to me, then the other would too.

My head would spin trying to hear both and give equal attention.

Well, that part has not changed.

They both stated that they were waiting for me to update the blog with a new post; but how can I do that if I’m face-timing for hours at a time?

What say you? There are 22 more hours in a day?  

Honestly, I’ll never complain about my girls wanting to talk with me.

During one of our extra-long face time sessions, Lolo began preparing her dinner in the crockpot. Linds was giving directions and then they began to make deviled eggs together.

They asked me to make some too, but I only had 3 eggs.

Later, they sent pics of their deviled eggs via our family chat.

A minute later, the Coach asked for some deviled eggs for when he got home.

I texted that we ONLY HAVE 3 because PANDEMIC.

Being a man of simplicity, he said, that sounds like 6 halves. 

I succumbed to deviled egg peer pressure.

I’m much easier than I appear.

***

Last week I attempted to switch over to WordPress as opposed to blogger.

Why you say? Because I’ve not had a reason to bang my head against a wall until I can’t feel anything for quite a while.

It’s a task that will take me some time, and I hope I don’t give up and succumb to google/blogger for the duration of my blogging life.

The rumor mill around town is that WordPress is not as limiting as the blogger platform and I dream of NOT being limited.

***

Thursday morning we woke up to a nice heavy rain. My first thoughts were we’ve been needing rain and my second thought was: “My garden caterpillars are going to drown.”

I exclaimed this to Coach and he said: it’s nature, they’re used to it.

I don’t know who he is or who he thinks he’s dealing with because I AM NATURE.

**

This morning I woke up and apparently we’ve gone back in time…back to January.

The Coach has all the doors and windows open, it’s 61* and I had to put a sweatshirt on over my PJ’s. THAT Is glorious as it’s been in the high 90’s daily.

We actually have some plans this weekend! *suz shouts from the rooftop*

Do you remember all the events/fundraising we do for our disabled veterans?

Well, it’s mostly the Coach, but by default, I get to be a part of it too.

He’s got two events planned for August and September on the East and West coast of Florida with our beloved songwriters.

Tonight, he’s arranged an at-home event with songwriters via Stageit.com. It’s a ‘pay what you can’ concert with 100% of the proceeds going directly to Liberty Manor.

The mission of Liberty Manor for Veterans, Inc. is to promote the developmental and social needs of disabled, honorably discharged veterans who have fallen victim to homelessness by providing them transitional, supported housing and establishing objectives designed to attribute to self-sufficiency.

Liberty Manor is doing SO much good for our veterans who have served our country and then have through various reasons, become homeless.

Reading the success stories hit my heart in a big way.

So, if you’re not doing anything tonight, tune in. 7:30. We personally know all of the songwriters and you’ll be pleasantly surprised when you hear the stories behind the songs that you hear on the radio.

**

So, that’s all from me. This was longer than I had planned, but what else do you, me, us have to do?

SADLY, NOTHING.

Have a great weekend and thank you again for being my friends who live inside the computer.

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

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