Something for Everyone!

Friday, March 18, 2011


It’s pretty pathetic when you have to vacuum your vacuum. 
I had such an accumulation of fur and dust on my canister vac -
that’s exactly what I had to do.  I thought my cats shed a lot –
they do but it’s nothing compared to our Doberman-lab mix
Maybe.  When I scratch her white chest it’s like snow-flurries
sifting onto our dark laminate floor.  And it doesn’t matter how much
we brush her, she manages to drop gobs of hair wherever she roams!
I didn’t know an animal could shed so much and not be bald.  I sweep,
dust mop and vacuum with my rechargeable Black & Decker stick vac every
single day. Then I lug out the heavy, duty, Range-Rover-of-a-vac every
couple of weeks to suck up any dirt, dust & debris I missed while using
the lightweight artillery.  It’s not a pretty sight – this once bright, cherry red,
sucking machine now looks like an old gray mare.  If the lady who lived in the
Great Expectations’ house had a vacuum, this would be it.  So I take a few
minutes to remove the thick, dusty layer from the vac before redirecting the
nozzle to a more monumental task – ridding my house of hair,
‘here baby, there mamma, everywhere daddy, daddy – HAIR’!

Let me put this all into perspective.  It’s a lot of work, a constant
battle between woman and fur.  But when Maybe stares at me so lovingly
with those big brown eyes, I melt…and keep on vacuuming.   

So I have a challenge for you, dear reader – help me come up with a way to turn
this hair into money!  Then I can hire someone and I won't have any more bad hair days.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Thursday's Word of the Day - Theorbist

A theorbist is someone who plays a theorbo. So what the heck is a theorbo? According to it's an obsolete bass lute with two sets of strings attached to separate peg boxes, one above the other, on the neck.

If you want to hear one played click on this link:

Monday, February 28, 2011

Star Trek Jewelry

I love thrifting. More often than I'd like to admit I drag stuff home that I don't need but was just to neat to pass up. Example: sea-anemone-alien clip-on earrings. Well, that's what they look like to me. I know I'll be able to use them one day; Halloween accessory, self-torture device (clip-ons hurt), a way to embarrass my son by wearing them in public........or I can just list them on my Etsy site and hope someone else loves them as much as I do.

This purchase was not the thriftiest of my thrifties - but if I sell them for $7, I'll be very pleased. If they don't sell, I'll keep them as a conversation piece. When left on the buffet, no one can help but pick them up and comment. My 18-year-old nephew - "Cool. Ugly but cool!"

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Useless-But-Fun-Facts Sunday

At age 47, the Rolling Stones' bassist, Bill Wyman, began a relationship with 13-year old Mandy Smith, with her mother's blessing. Six years later, they were married, but the marriage only lasted a year. Not long after, Bill's 30-year-old son Stephen married Mandy's mother, age 46. That made Stephen a stepfather to his former stepmother. If Bill and Mandy had remained married, Stephen would have been his father's father-in-law and his own grandpa.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Corny "Tuesday" Joke

I walked up to the teller and asked her to check my balance - so she pushed me!

DOG plus BEACH equals CHAOS!


Sunday my son and I decided to take Maybe to the dog beach. We expected lots of sand, salt and of course, dogs. But, what we got was much more than we bargained for. We encountered a spider on steroids, a chicken, a raccoon, two cats and a somewhat disturbing ending.

I was putting money in the ‘rip-you-off’ Master Meter machine when my son pointed out a spider about twelve inches from my face. I’m not scared of spiders… I’m flipping arachnophobia-terrified of those things. I snapped at my son, “thanks a lot for pointing it out – I love you too”. Must be some sadism in his blood – from his father’s side of course.

That was one big, bad monster of a spider. But it gets better. After depositing $2. for parking, we turned toward the beach….. holy crap, !%&%**%$#, yikes!!! Maybe had stuck her nose into the web of another one of those predaceous pests. That blankity-blank thing was on her nose. Maybe jumped back, the spider scrambled to the ground and I almost threw up. I didn’t know my vocal chords could reach such volumes but I scared a lady sitting in her car – windows up, radio on. I’m happy for one thing – we inspected Maybe’s nose and it didn’t look as if she got bit. We scraped the web from her snout the best we could with a twig. Again we headed off towards the beach, this time with me babbling to myself; yech, ewe, gross, discusting.

Well, I have to say, it was worth the unfortunate arachnid run-in. As we crested the catwalk Maybe almost yanked Albert off his feet. It’s no wonder, we had arrived at poochie paradise - a real mongrel melee. Other than at the pound, I’d never seen such a canine collection. We unclipped her leash and she was off and running – kicking up sand while people parked on their towels were taking cover.

After taking a gazillion pictures of Maybe and Albert doing the doggy paddle I decided to check our parking slip which I left obligingly on my dashboard. Albert thought we had two hours but I wasn’t so sure. As I was passing the spider infested bushes I noticed in one spot the branches were moving quite a bit. The spiders were big but let’s get real - if that was a spider moving that branch, Albert and Maybe would have had to hitch a ride home. I’d be locked inside my Prius, driving into the sunset, never to return to the Hell that was disguised as a dog beach. I slowed down to see what it was and staring back at me with its beady little eyes was a chubby raccoon happily chewing on a cocoplum. Phew, nothing as ferocious as a spider – only a cute, furry animal that could be rabid or carrying a myriad of other contagious diseases. Well, anyway, Albert and Maybe didn’t have to thumb it. Oh yeah, this is also the part where I spotted the chicken and cats. They were in the bushes next to my car seemingly oblivious to me or each other.

Well, I was right, we only got an hour with my two dollars – weekends you get doubly scre…um, taken advantage of. I know I shouldn’t be such a cheap sourpuss - I’m old and I remember when the beach had free parking. Any-hoo, I used my last two quarters which gave me 15 minutes to fetch Fido and Boy.

Here comes the really fun part. After I leashed Maybe and was walking over to pick up our belongings she erupts with explosive diarrhea. “What the heck, Maybe! You couldn’t wait till we got to the pavement or grass? I mean… oh, poor baby”. It took three poo bags to clean up her mess. We got out of there as quickly as possible, trying not to look into anyone’s eyes, only stopping for a quick shower. From the shower to the car Maybe’s behind was like a hose. But she kept walking as if she didn’t even notice the watery substance squirting from her butt. She just paused a couple of times to puke.

Maybe was a gem to hold everything in while we were in the car. But the minute we were in the house the dam broke. She threw up so much sea water our floors looked like the Great Salt Lake. Cleaning it up was a daunting task. It looked like water but when I tried to wipe it up, it was like trying to clean up a slimy egg white. Did you see the movie The Witches of Eastwick? Remember the church scene with the woman throwing up the cherry pits? Need I say more?

My exhaustion turned to fear - I was really worried about Maybe. So I turned to Google. My findings verified that she had swallowed too much salt water. It was comforting to know the other dogs survived with no ill effects in the end (I agree, that was lame). Maybe was drinking plenty of FRESH water but I kept a close eye on her all night.

It’s been 24 hours since our Sunday outing and Maybe’s back to normal. When are we taking her back to the beach? Perhaps when the raccoon, chicken, cats and spiders all jump over the moon with the cow.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Swanky Boca

Boca Raton is a chichi kind of town so I didn't think it would be a thrift-store-kind-of-place. But my boyfriend and I decided to check one out while on a leisurely drive. It was a little rich for my blood - classy town, classy thrift store. But I did spot something that attracted me like a gnat to an over-ripe peach. It was a bin marked 'Ties - 2 for $1.00'. Careful sifting snagged me two really nice ties. I moved on to the belts and picked up a cool one with fluorescent orange stripes. I thought it was worth $2. So, $3 and I was done. However, my boyfriend who was on the other side of the shop came across an item that he thought was quite spectacular. Instead of coming to look for me he shouted with a resounding, "ROBERTA!" Having attracted my and everyone elses attention, I skulked over to see what he had found. It turned out to be exactly what I had been looking for for weeks. I needed a piece of furniture to hold a very large t.v. I wanted something that looked more like my furniture than a stand that holds a t.v. What he found was a solid wood Ethan Allen table. It was marked $70 but was 50% off

and after a bit of haggling my boyfriend got it for $25.
Sooooo, I will say it was a very successful day. And if you're in the neighborhood, definitely pay them a visit.

HINT: Sometimes when our expectations aren't high, we're pleasantly surprised. Hence, don't judge a book by it's cover. Or don't judge a town's thrift store by the name of the town. I won't (again).

Never Used - What a Deal!

Never Used - What a Deal!
"Let's go camping!"