Just whistle a happy tune....

I get feeling like I have a big pit in my stomach around this time of year...Today is October 17 and that means that today is the anniversary of my brother's death, the 21st anniversary :-( 


So much has happened in the last 21 years...very sad he had to miss it all. Although, some would say, he is livin it up up there and that we are the ones that are missin out.

I could feel myself starting to take a non productive jaunt over to Funkytown and thought that maybe I could dance a jig or whistle a happy tune, something, anything to postpone or avoid that trip altogether.

I suck at whistling and I pee my pants every time I cut a rug so I had to take a different route.

I started to laugh and my mood changed immediately when a funny memory came to mind....

My brother was such a pig (as in eat up all the food the second mom brought it into the house from the grocery store) that my sister and I thought we would fix him good.

We took out a huge pile of Oreo's from the bag and unscrewed them...we scraped off all the cream filling of two of them and replaced it with a dollop of horseradish, white, thick hot hot hot horseradish, stuck them back together and then placed them back into the bag.

We lay in wait (actually, we sat on the couch and tried to look nonchalant) for our victim. I could hardly contain myself ( when doing devious things, I have a giggle problem) anyway, the big clod came in and grabbed his 20 oz glass of milk and half the bag of cookies (oink) and sat down to watch tv....cookie after cookie he dipped and ate in one bite...I was salivating, just waiting for him to get to one of the stashed cookies.

Finally it happened...dip, gobble...GAG.....hahahahahhahahahahhhaahahh SPIT hhahahahahhaha

My fanny was in some hot water when Porky spit black all over our mother's carpeting.

My hysterics (and the stomach ache I got from laughing so hard) were totally worth it.

PS...John, if you have computers in Heaven (which knowing how techno savvy you always were, I am betting that you do) and are reading this..I miss ya, I love ya and I'm still not sorry about the Oreos..Till we meet again little bro.... xoxoxoxo Beth

 Mom, if you are wondering what was in that lil coffee pot just ask Susan...(it was all her idea)

For every pot......

there is a lid,

I think Googie has located hers.

My lover boy has a girlfriend........

Well girls, looks like I’ve lost another one. My sweet baby boy has a girlfriend, and it sounds kinda serious like. He gets all spiffed up and asks to borrow his dad’s car (he must think she's too good to drive in his hoopty, an old Chrysler LHS which he calls “The Dragon“).



He looks all dewy eyed when he talks about her. And tells me silly things her mother says when she teases him.

He’s asked to buy two tickets to the prom.

I asked him lots of questions about her like when do I get to meet her?…This is a question I’ve never asked him before, since before her, I was his only long term girlfriend.

“Maybe tomorrow” he says trying to run out the door so he can go visit her.

“What does she look like?” I persist, wanting him to change his mind and stay home with me. “Brown hair and eyes, like me?” I tease.

‘She’s a blond and her eyes are light too”, he laughs and shakes his head.

“How do you know what color her eyes are, why are you that close to her?” I continue to rib the poor kid.

“I just know what color her eyes are and besides, when were makin out her eyes are closed", the brat gets me one back.

“You just remember who is your only one true love and don’t be gone too long” I get a little dewy eyed myself cause I know he has to go.

He kisses me on the forehead and out the door he goes…..

I hate a cheatin man.

(Sniffle sniffle......thanks for listening.)


This post was written last May....and the romance continues.

I can't help but like this wonderful young miss who seems to put some real serious pep in my boy's step.

Homecoming this past weekend.....

It’s not easy being green….

I’ve been following a couple of blogging sisters. They are both delightful and talented writers.

The younger of the two sisters survived a near deadly plane crash. She was in a coma for three months.

This mother of four fought back long and hard in an attempt to live the life she had imagined for herself and her children in spite of her life changing injuries.

She was featured on Oprah the other day.

The survivor’s family was on the show too, via satellite, and the older sister had a few seconds to comment.

The two most recent entries that the older sister has posted to her blog (since the Oprah airing) are reeking of green envy.

The blogger tells a story of being weepy and on edge one day and acting like a brat (even though a very grown woman) with her mother the next day.

I’m great at smelling between the lines and I smell jelly-azz, (Now I’m not an official mind reader or anything, but I do have a really good nose).

I feel bad for this big sister…she is probably incredibly jealous that her sister gets to be on Oprah…(and who in the hell wouldn’t be???).

I don’t only smell jealousy….I also smell shame.

She is ashamed that she is jealous that her sister got to be on Oprah.

Because she had to be burned up, and lose her pretty face and her pretty life in order to be invited.

I would love to write an email to this poor older sister and tell her that I understand what she’s going through.

You see, when I was 12, my sister had the good fortune of suffering an attack of appendicitis and the lucky girl got to have surgery and have her appendix taken out.

(I was worried sick that she would die during her operation. She’d never been away from home without me. I missed her being underfoot while she recuperated in the hospital after the surgery.)

(Once she was out of the woods…things started turning ugly.)

The brat had all kinds of people bringing her presents and cards and money to the hospital.

Family and friends visited the house and showered her with sympathy and Get Well Soon balloons.

I wished and I prayed for some kind of disease or illness that would allow me this same treatment.

As my poor luck would have it….I remained healthy and whole.

In my sent email I would tell that older sister that she has done a remarkable job with helping to raise her sister’s children while that sister was sleeping for three months. I would tell her that she looked beautiful and smart on Oprah. I would tell her that she shouldn’t feel ashamed that she may feel a pang or two of jealousy that her sister got to sit on Oprah’s couch….near enough to smell her perfume and be up close and personal with her Jimmy Choo shoes.

Sisters share such a unique bond.

Your sister is out of the woods now…..life can go back to (a new) normal.

I getcha big sister…..that rotten little up stager got to sit next to Oprah....I'd be crabby too.

Susan (when she still had her appendix) and me.

May every person......

who crosses your path today have this opinion of you.

I truly hope this kid never asks me for something I shouldn't be giving him....I'd be hard pressed to say no.

Just in time..........

I share a characteristic with a silk tulip, a milkbone, and the Mona Lisa painting....we all have the exact same attention span.

I'm shamed when one of my kids grabs my face and looks deep into my eyes and says "stay with me ma" or "I need you to concentrate here"......

Just this past Thursday one of them did just that.

"Ma, I need you to remember to pay my Pay to Play fee at school. If it's not paid by tomorrow at 3 I can't play the game".

About a minute later, while I was playing working on my computer he yelled up the stairs "Mooooooooom what do you have to do for me today?"

"Okay dumbass sweetheart..., I won't forget" I yelled back.

When the last of the troops had shut the front door I came out of hiding downstairs to start watching tv my cleaning.

I had to laugh when I looked around the house..... PAY 2 PLAY reminder notes were EVERYWHERE!

The kid had my every move down and slathered with reminder notes.

I removed all the evidence so Daddio wouldn't have a field day rubbing it in that I am a total and complete f-up screwup when it comes to remembering things.

Two thirty rolled around and I found myself buried deep in a game of Bejeweled 2 paying bills on the computer.

My growling stomach brought my computer work to a halt and I went to grab a little snack.

HOLY SHIT SMOKES!!!!!!......It was 2:45 and I had forgotten to pay the fee.....

I don't think it's proper to thank God for stupid things like choosing to snack on a pickle instead of a handful of Cheetos making me see the reminder note or for keeping all the cops busy that usually patrol the sidestreet that I sped on to get to the school on time....he's busy taking care of real problems.

"Did you remember to pay" the kid asked when he got home.

"Thank God" he replied when I said "yes".