Memory lane – Busy Bee Suz

Memories: Shrinking Peanut Butter Pie, Lingering Dinners & Large Headed Toddlers.

Years ago, we had a favorite restaurant in town that we frequented for birthday celebrations, hosting visitors or just a Saturday night out: Silver Spoon Cafe. The restaurant was in a lovely open-air shopping mall that had fountains/landscaping throughout and some high end specialty stores. There was always a line out the door, and a wait to get a table at the Silver Spoon. All meals started with a warm loaf of bread, not sure what the flavor was but we called it Chocolate Bread because it was dark brown. The best part of the bread was that it accompanied a side of seasoned butter that was.to.die.for. This is probably where/when my cholesterol numbers started to elevate.

_{Toddler Linds enjoying some French Fries with her Ketchup} *_{at Silver Spoon}*

Silver Spoon Cafe was famous for their Peanut Butter Pie and every birthday dinner ended with this giant piece of pie for the birthday person with a lit candle, of course. This pie had actual Reeses Peanut Butter cups jutting out of it. The first five or so years the pie piece was ginormous; oddly, over the years, the pie pieces were getting smaller and smaller. Indeflation happens.

*I know there is a name for when something like this is captured….like a pic within a pic? Lolo with her Grandpa and Grandma Judy. Around 6 and then again at 16?*

*The girls having peanut butter pie as teens before the pie completely shrunk.*

I recall having lunch at Silver Spoon with my girls and my Mom when she was visiting us, and so many dinners there with good friends who were in town; we’d linger after dinner with glasses of wine and laughter while our young kids fell asleep on our laps or in the next booth.

After dinner, if the weather was decent, we’d walk around the fountains and let the kids toss in pennies along with wishes.

_{The Busy Bee Family after dinner at The Silver Spoon Cafe, way back and in 2012}

One evening, Kelly and Don’s son Connor, 3-4 years old stuck his big toddler head in between the railing pickets and became stuck. It was a precarious few minutes of both worry and laughter. I can not visit this shopping area without having a giggle to myself remembering this moment. Connor is a brand new father, so I’ll have to remind him of this incident as a warning.

Sadly, Silver Spoon closed about 10 years ago and to say I was bummed was an understatement. No warning, no Thanks For The Memories, they just closed. Now In it’s place is a Lilly Pulitzer and I’ll never shop there. Not only because they took over the spot of my good memories, but those colors are too much for my dark-clothes-wearing soul.

Thanks for reading my jumbled stream of consciousness.

Do you have memories tied to a particular restaurant?

XOXO

You Liar! Was Jerry Springer Fully Booked?

This is a continuation of the Liar Liar, Pants On Fire Saga.

My Dad died fairly sudden in November of 1993, he was only 52; he had been struggling with his health for a while and Doctors couldn’t pin-point the issue. (we lived in different states at the time) He ended up in the hospital in terrible shape and was finally told that he had pancreatic cancer; they gave him six months. Coincidentally, I was able to see him twice at the hospital as we were in town for a wedding. When we went back home in TX, I spoke to several times a day to get updates, but he went downhill quickly, was moved to hospice just days after I saw him, and he died a few days later.

*_{We snuck baby Lolo into the hospital for her one and only visit with my Father.}*

This whole time, I was not getting much info from his new wife, MK, who wasn’t at the hospital very often, so my Dad was essentially alone. I found out later that she was enjoying herself with friends and cocaine.

It was surreal to say the least. Eleven days after entering the hospital, he was gone.

They had been married for five months and there was a to-do about his estate which was mainly his 401K and life insurance; maybe $500k total, plus his house which was a modest home, but was almost paid off.

Coach and I arrived back into town after he passed and went to his house. MK was not there, but the front door was unlocked. I found the file cabinet (on the floor in the middle of the living room) where he kept pertinent info. The Will had mysteriously disappeared, as they do, but I was able to locate a few, small life insurance policies he’d purchased for my Brother and I that added up to around 10k. (MK had already called on them, found out she couldn’t get $ and tossed them towards the file box.)

_{Rare photo of my brother Mark and Dad; Mark died in 1990.}

The Coach and I hired an attorney to look into things and went on with our lives. I’ll not bore you with all those details, but she legally had a hold of all his assets (100% not what he had wanted) and could live in the house as long as she kept up the $350 a month mortgage payments. My father hadn’t been proactive, so legally his ‘wife’ inherited all of his assets. (he would have needed to let the Credit Union know otherwise and update his will with a certified copy for me to hold onto)

My Dad continually told me the last few years that I would benefit from all his overtime and saving. I repeatedly told him to ENJOY His money and HIS time, which he didn’t.

Sadly, neither of us enjoyed his hard work & saving.

I learned that shortly after he passed, Mama Kong took several low life friends on a cruise, bought a Lincoln Town Car (my dad’s dream car, but would never spend the $) wasted money on drugs and druggies, and get this: Took all of his 401k earnings out of the account, but didn’t realize you had to pay taxes on that income.

Cut to a year or so later, The Coach and I were on a trip, staying at a hotel. I recall we were getting ready to go out for dinner, I’d just got out of the shower, had my hair in a towel as I was picking out an outfit, I mindlessly turned on the TV for some noise.

It took twenty seconds for me to recognize Mama Kong’s twangy, lying voice.

WHAT IN THE MAURY POVICH AM I HEARING?

That crazy b*tch was on TV. On Maury Povich!.

I think the premise of this show was

“I Unknowingly Married A Millionaire.”

Where is Connie Chung when I need her investigative reporting?

MK basically said she married my dad, a confirmed bachelor with no heirs after a whirlwind romance. She said he died and left her millions in Art.

Ya’ll, my Dad’s only Art was from The Franklin Mint and he wasn’t a millionaire in any aspect; but he was a hard working Union man who saved all his pennies. (note the Franklin Mint artwork in the pic with Mark & Dad)

GARBAGE LYING PIG.

To wrap this up in a pretty (disastrous) bow, a while later (1995-96?) MK ended up not paying the mortgage on the house, we were served notice and the Coach and I were able to pay off the mortgage, update/repair the house, (it was a by all standards a Crack House with appliances ripped out, wires dangling from the ceiling, etc) and sell the home with a decent sized profit.

Serendipity? Good Karma?

By the time Dad’s house situation was being finalized, we decided to move from (now) AZ back to FL and build our current home. Remember the profit from Dad’s house? Well, it was the EXACT amount of $$ of the land cost where I’m currently sitting, writing this post.

Last that I’d heard MK had a lien against her from the IRS, was broke and living in a not-so-nice assisted living facility in Daytona, even though she wasn’t officially elderly.

Last I checked, My Karma is in good standing.

Don’t you love it when the Universe Has Your Back?

XOXO

Liars Abound…so why aren’t there more pants on fire?

I recently listened to a Podcast called Scamanda. I don’t generally enjoy True Crime podcasts, but this one intrigued me because Amanda was a blogger, and I was trying to figure out which one of you are Amanda who Scams. This chick convinced people that she was sick/dying and swindled money left and right. Not just online, but from her church, neighbors, friends…

Which of you is a scammer?

If you enjoy True Crime, you’ll like the podcast. My mind is still blown at what extend she went to for this scheme. I mean, if she put in as much energy into something good, she would have been considered a wonderful human.

This brought to mind some people in my (past) life who were habitual liars; sometimes it was something small, or downright outlandish. I will only share about one of them as the other is most likely reading this blog right now.

Do you recall when I wrote briefly about my Dad’s third wife, Mama Kong? She’s the one who referred to me as Hoity Toity. (The effing nerve)

There were so many lies that she spewed to my father and I. and to this day, I do not know how my father believed any of her BS. I mean, he did have some mental issues, and was unbeknownst to us sick with cancer the last year of his life…but still, this woman was a piece of work. She was mouthy, obnoxious, tramp-like and had no redeeming quality that I saw.

Perhaps he was there for the trampy part, or he was just lonely.

Here are a few of the outlandish lies that came out of her big pie hole.

*She was a Barber by trade and tried to convince me that she took care of Elton Johns’ hair. (she was brought up in small town TN, was not very educated and currently lived in Rural Palm Beach County. Not a chance in hell she knew EJ. 😳)

*She told my Dad that she had been in Playboy magazine as a centerfold, I don’t remember the exact dates, but for the sake of this lie, let’s say she was in Playboy in 1979 and we were currently in 1990. Mind you, this woman was NOT attractive whatsoever…even if she had a stellar personality, she wasn’t winning any awards. Somehow my Dad found the 1979 magazine…how, I don’t know since there was NO internet or resources like that.

Anyhoo, he got a hold of the mag and Lo and Behold, there She Was, In all her glory on page whatever….

Um, except it wasn’t her Face.

She explained to my dad that the magazine used HER BODY, but ADDED SOMEONE ELSES FACE.

Wut da fuk?

She actually said that. I just laughed out loud again thinking about the absurdity.

There were so many more stupid lies, but one that I must mention is the craziest to me because of how I witnessed it…

I’ll share that in another post as this is getting wordy.

So, tell me, have you encountered a Liar Liar Pants On Fire person up close & personal?

Did you listen to the Scamanda podcast? And are you currently scamming someone?

We’re Talking Lizards Again; This Time That Divine One From My Past. AKA: My Jesus Lizard

*I originally shared this post many moons ago, (2010) but I felt that since I just shared my dilemma regarding Anatoli Anole this week, you should know that I don’t loathe all lizards* (thanks Nance for naming the Azzhole)

As a kid, you could find me playing outside all the time; if I weren’t creating shenanigans with the neighborhood kids, I was creating my own adventures.

I spent hours and hours in our yard unattended or roaming the neighborhood, also unattended.

I loved catching bugs and ~~stray cats, bunnies~~ critters, but catching lizards, well catching lizards was my jam.

I was proficient at capturing without harming and I loved them so much. I was the self proclaimed lizard whisperer.

When I was about seven I found this beautiful bright green lizard. He was a gorgeous specimen!

I believe it was love at first sight for both of us.

He was so docile as he crawled up and down my arms and he loved sitting on my shoulder, like a Parrot lizard.

He was my constant companion for A Full Day.

*CUE THE SUZ AND LIZARD FUN MONTAGE*

I had visions of our life together: playing games, reading books, traveling the world.

I found a jar and made him a home and we had our first sleepover; it was epic.

The next day, I thought it would be a great idea to take him to school with me because surely, he would get lonely at home all alone. (Was I wearing homemade pantyhose? Probably.)

Being the girly tomboy that I was, I put him in my purse and headed for school.

I only shared my new lizard with a few friends that day as I did not want to risk getting into trouble. I’d already hit my quota for classroom spankings.

Sadly, later that evening, I realized that my lizard had perished. I was beyond crushed because all our hopes and dreams for the future were just as dead as he was.

Maybe it was the the long commute on the school bus that did him in? Maybe living in my purse wasn’t the right environment? Perhaps a diet of grass wasn’t enough?

Devastated, I buried him in the yard and performed The Eulogy that he clearly deserved.

A few days later I went to pay homage to my now deceased friend and WHAT IIN THE ACTUAL HELL?

He.Was.Gone.

The burial site was wide open and my lizard had risen from the dead!

Like Jesus.

It was a miracle of epic proportions! He lives! He lives! He lives!

I was elated and for days I looked all over for him, but sadly we were never reunited.

I never forgot our time together though, he was my favorite lizard and could never be replaced.

In hindsight, maybe he was not so much ‘Jesus like’ as much as my cats were excellent excavators.

XOXO

Your friend Suz, the critter hoarding hawt mess in the making.