Sometimes I forget that even though this blog is published in a county newspaper, I can still write about whatever I want. There may be articles that the newspaper feels they cannot print but, that's OK, I can still write them.
With that being said, I would like to journey back to the last item listed in the last blog.....the sports bra.
I was really excited about this bra because I only have one sports bra and my thought was it would be nice to have at least two.
Why I thought there was enough material to cover my needs will forever remain a mystery. I guess I was lost in some weird time warp where I thought I was still 20 something. Or maybe I was relying on the stretch factor. Well, I can tell you that Stretch Armstrong would have covered more than this bra.
Even before I put it on I was looking at it with my head cocked to one side. Since I had relied on the hanger it was on, for the appropriate size, I began to have my doubts.
When I got it on and looked in the mirror, I suddenly remembered a birthday card my sisters, Lela and Blanche, gave me one year.....I believe it was for my 50th birthday. The card had a picture of a woman with a tiny bra on and the rest of her boobs where bulging out all over the place. It read something like this, "After all these years, Ruth still wears her lucky bra."
That's exactly what I looked like. I even tried to rearrange the ladies to see if that would make it fit. When I pushed everything up, that was hanging out the bottom, it all smushed out the top and what would not smush out the top went somewhere under my arms.
I felt like one of those stress reliever balls. The kind that when you squeeze it on one side, the rest of the ball blobs out the other side.
If it had not been so hysterical, it would have been depressing. So, since I had delightfully cut all the tags off of it, someone will inherit this ancy-fancy sports bra and I shall persevere to find another. One that a at least has more material than a hanky.
Tuesday, November 26, 2019
Monday, November 25, 2019
New Things
During this time of the year, my husband has been accused, more than once, of buying himself something. It does not particularly matter what it is he buys, but the man can go an entire 11 months and never purchase a thing. Come close to December and he decides he needs something.....his children are never cheery about this. He has agreed not to do it this year, but he still has a gift card from last year and I'm pretty sure I saw it smoldering the other day.
Recently, I had to purchase some new things myself. I don't think any family member will be upset about my recent purchases....they really do not fall into the gift category.
Having made several trips to the dentist in the last few months, I was advised to get two things. An electric, sonic toothbrush and a water pick. These certainly did not sound like exciting items, but one's teeth are rather helpful to keep.
For once, I did not buy these online, but found them at the local big box store, the one where people's pictures end up on some social media platform....and they are never flattering and this store is darn near next door. It did not take long to find the items and they had smaller, more "condensed" models of what I needed. This was a plus as I was already wondering where I was going to put them.
After getting home with my new purchases, I quickly opened the boxes because both items needed to be charged before I could use them. When this was accomplished, I set down to read the entire instructions on how to use them. The sonic toothbrush was pretty self explanatory, turn it on and let it brush the teeth. The instructions for the water pick said to put it in the mouth before turning it on. Well, duh, I thought, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
When the 24 hour charging time was done, I was ready to try out the new equipment. First to floss with water. Pulling the trigger on this baby, while in the mouth, was akin to getting hit in the face with the garden hose nozzle set on JET. The water pressure was surely just under what comes out of the fire hydrant and I was certainly glad it was warm water or it may have felt like a brain freeze of the worst magnitude. Then.....I pulled it out of my mouth....without turning it off....my shirt was covered with stripes of water within seconds. All I can say are two things, at least it wasn't pointed towards my eye and I believe the design flaw is there is a separate button for off.....which I now keep my thumb on.
Then it was time for the sonic toothbrush. I was soon to learn why it was called sonic because when I placed it on my teeth I feared they might be vibrated right out of my mouth. Luckily they did not and I have gotten the hang of just how to use this tool.....along with remembering to make sure it is in my mouth before it is turned on. Unless I really want my toothpaste thrown in 400 different directions, at once.
The last purchase was a sports bra. It was from one of those fancy-ancy stores that think their stuff is WAY better than what other sports wear stores have. Plus, it was on sale...the last plus for my shopping antics.
A word to the wise, never go by the size that is stamped on the hanger. Otherwise you will know the true meaning of Dolly Parton's famous line....10 pounds of mud in a 5 pound sack.
Recently, I had to purchase some new things myself. I don't think any family member will be upset about my recent purchases....they really do not fall into the gift category.
Having made several trips to the dentist in the last few months, I was advised to get two things. An electric, sonic toothbrush and a water pick. These certainly did not sound like exciting items, but one's teeth are rather helpful to keep.
For once, I did not buy these online, but found them at the local big box store, the one where people's pictures end up on some social media platform....and they are never flattering and this store is darn near next door. It did not take long to find the items and they had smaller, more "condensed" models of what I needed. This was a plus as I was already wondering where I was going to put them.
After getting home with my new purchases, I quickly opened the boxes because both items needed to be charged before I could use them. When this was accomplished, I set down to read the entire instructions on how to use them. The sonic toothbrush was pretty self explanatory, turn it on and let it brush the teeth. The instructions for the water pick said to put it in the mouth before turning it on. Well, duh, I thought, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out.
When the 24 hour charging time was done, I was ready to try out the new equipment. First to floss with water. Pulling the trigger on this baby, while in the mouth, was akin to getting hit in the face with the garden hose nozzle set on JET. The water pressure was surely just under what comes out of the fire hydrant and I was certainly glad it was warm water or it may have felt like a brain freeze of the worst magnitude. Then.....I pulled it out of my mouth....without turning it off....my shirt was covered with stripes of water within seconds. All I can say are two things, at least it wasn't pointed towards my eye and I believe the design flaw is there is a separate button for off.....which I now keep my thumb on.
Then it was time for the sonic toothbrush. I was soon to learn why it was called sonic because when I placed it on my teeth I feared they might be vibrated right out of my mouth. Luckily they did not and I have gotten the hang of just how to use this tool.....along with remembering to make sure it is in my mouth before it is turned on. Unless I really want my toothpaste thrown in 400 different directions, at once.
The last purchase was a sports bra. It was from one of those fancy-ancy stores that think their stuff is WAY better than what other sports wear stores have. Plus, it was on sale...the last plus for my shopping antics.
A word to the wise, never go by the size that is stamped on the hanger. Otherwise you will know the true meaning of Dolly Parton's famous line....10 pounds of mud in a 5 pound sack.
Monday, November 18, 2019
Road Trip Destination
A hillside topped with a stand of oak trees, the kind that keep their dead brown leaves clinging to the branches until the first hint of spring, glowed like electric rust as the last sun rays of the day shined upon them before slipping below the horizon. A small doe made her way out of the tall brown grass to nibble on what was left of a small patch of green grass. A Great Blue Heron stepped ever so cautiously along the shallows by the bank in search of an unfortunate small fish, or two. The scenic views in this area never fail to delight the senses, no matter the season. The Lake of the Ozarks always feels like home.
When did this madness begin? How many years ago? 25 or longer, 30? It was a great idea though, why, almost a patriotic duty. A girls weekend shopping trip to help boost the economy.....the best reason ever to spend money.
It started, years ago, with the women in my family. Sisters Lela and Blanche, Mother, myself and my daughters and it always happened on Mother's Day weekend. We would leave for the lake on a Friday, shop and eat and return on Sunday.
A few years after this annual ritual began, the women on my husband's side of the family started their own money sacrificing ritual too and chose the weekend around Veteran's Day, or the middle of November. This was dubbed the annual Christmas shopping trip. This tribe includes my husbands' sisters, their daughters and his daughters (and now granddaughters) along with all the female members of aunts and cousins who live in Oklahoma.
It had been some time since I had joined the latter group. I had all kinds of reasons for not going but this year, something made me change my mind. I do not know exactly what it was, but it seemed like I was being led to attend. As my plane followed the giant, winding serpent that is the Mississippi River, up to St. Louis, a feeling of being in the right place at the right time fell over me.
The very best thing about these gatherings is not the items that are bought, nor the food that is consumed, but the magic that happens when everyone is in one place. That magic is the sound of laughter. The shenanigans that take place, whether it be playing some crazy game or reliving something that happened during the day, leave us breathless with aching mid-sections. Fourteen females, in one place, laughing like idiots made us all thankful we were in a remote area because there was definitely a disturbance of the peace going on. Laughing until the tears flow is a great way to cleanse the soul.
Sunday came all too soon. Everyone packed their vehicles and made numerous "one last time" searches to see if anything had been left behind. One last stop at the outlet mall and we said our final goodbyes.
A light rain fell as the rental car and I made our way back to the airport. I set the cruise control at the speed limit. There was no need to hurry, my plane did not leave until the next day. The other travelers sped past me in their hurry to return home. I would need to catch 70 East at Kingdom City and I wondered if I could do that without stopping. As the exit approached, I moved to the left hand lane and turned the opposite way. There, looming ahead of me, was what made me stop.
It is a giant building that sort of gives the impression that it could pass as a barn. On the peak of its roof is a huge sign that reads, "O Z A R K L A N D". It is not the only building of its kind. There are others and though this one is the only one I had ever been in, I'm pretty sure their contents were all the same. If ever there were a place to get a souvenir from the Lake of the Ozarks, this would be the place. It used to be the final stop during the Mother's Day weekend, on our way back to the beautiful land of Pike.
I pulled the car to a stop at the outer edge of the parking lot. Wow, it had been a long time since I had been in there, nearly ten years. The rain drops that trickled down the window, masked the ones that slid down my cheeks. Things change in life. People come and people go. We miss them but we know we must go on. A large sign on the middle of the building read, "Road Stop Destination". Yes. Yes it was....but not today. There simply was not room for another wind chime on my deck and I certainly did not need any fudge. Besides, I believe that somewhere there is an unwritten law that says to never go in there alone.
When did this madness begin? How many years ago? 25 or longer, 30? It was a great idea though, why, almost a patriotic duty. A girls weekend shopping trip to help boost the economy.....the best reason ever to spend money.
It started, years ago, with the women in my family. Sisters Lela and Blanche, Mother, myself and my daughters and it always happened on Mother's Day weekend. We would leave for the lake on a Friday, shop and eat and return on Sunday.
A few years after this annual ritual began, the women on my husband's side of the family started their own money sacrificing ritual too and chose the weekend around Veteran's Day, or the middle of November. This was dubbed the annual Christmas shopping trip. This tribe includes my husbands' sisters, their daughters and his daughters (and now granddaughters) along with all the female members of aunts and cousins who live in Oklahoma.
It had been some time since I had joined the latter group. I had all kinds of reasons for not going but this year, something made me change my mind. I do not know exactly what it was, but it seemed like I was being led to attend. As my plane followed the giant, winding serpent that is the Mississippi River, up to St. Louis, a feeling of being in the right place at the right time fell over me.
The very best thing about these gatherings is not the items that are bought, nor the food that is consumed, but the magic that happens when everyone is in one place. That magic is the sound of laughter. The shenanigans that take place, whether it be playing some crazy game or reliving something that happened during the day, leave us breathless with aching mid-sections. Fourteen females, in one place, laughing like idiots made us all thankful we were in a remote area because there was definitely a disturbance of the peace going on. Laughing until the tears flow is a great way to cleanse the soul.
Sunday came all too soon. Everyone packed their vehicles and made numerous "one last time" searches to see if anything had been left behind. One last stop at the outlet mall and we said our final goodbyes.
A light rain fell as the rental car and I made our way back to the airport. I set the cruise control at the speed limit. There was no need to hurry, my plane did not leave until the next day. The other travelers sped past me in their hurry to return home. I would need to catch 70 East at Kingdom City and I wondered if I could do that without stopping. As the exit approached, I moved to the left hand lane and turned the opposite way. There, looming ahead of me, was what made me stop.
It is a giant building that sort of gives the impression that it could pass as a barn. On the peak of its roof is a huge sign that reads, "O Z A R K L A N D". It is not the only building of its kind. There are others and though this one is the only one I had ever been in, I'm pretty sure their contents were all the same. If ever there were a place to get a souvenir from the Lake of the Ozarks, this would be the place. It used to be the final stop during the Mother's Day weekend, on our way back to the beautiful land of Pike.
I pulled the car to a stop at the outer edge of the parking lot. Wow, it had been a long time since I had been in there, nearly ten years. The rain drops that trickled down the window, masked the ones that slid down my cheeks. Things change in life. People come and people go. We miss them but we know we must go on. A large sign on the middle of the building read, "Road Stop Destination". Yes. Yes it was....but not today. There simply was not room for another wind chime on my deck and I certainly did not need any fudge. Besides, I believe that somewhere there is an unwritten law that says to never go in there alone.
Monday, November 11, 2019
We Could Have
It was a spur of the moment decision. Those, in retrospect, are usually not the best laid plans of mice and men. But, I did it anyway. Nothing too new about that either.
A performer was coming to town. Up until a few months ago, I had never even heard of this person, although I had heard a few of his songs. That being in true Ruth form, my children would attest to the fact that their mother never knew the name of the singer or band, but did know most of the words to the particular song in question. They would also attest to the fact that I usually waited until they were surrounded by their friends and then I belted out a few lines so they could be mortified.
The performer was Post Malone. I had done a little research on him because back in July, I was asked to use one of his songs for a "Birthday Ditty"....something else I do.....that will surely be a riot at my wake.
Post Malone is a rap/hiphop and whatever else they call it, artist. He was born Austin Richard Post and turned a whopping 24 years old this past July. His father was a DJ and Austin Richard Post was exposed to many different types music.
In short, the kid is a self made success story, has sold over 60 million records and is a great example of never giving up on ones' dream.
My husband and I are both in our 60's. This was the first major concert either of us had ever been to. Seriously, I kid you not. When I asked him if he wanted to go, I had to sing a couple of lines of one of the songs so he would know who we were going to see. The tickets were purchased and we only had to wait a couple of days until concert time.
The concert was held at the PNC arena, which seats nearly 20,000, here in Raleigh. The PNC arena is home to the Carolina Hurricanes of the National Hockey League and the NC State Wolfpack men's basketball team.......and anyone who knows me well can bet their double hockey sticks I had to Google that information.
The concert was to start at 8 p.m. Even though we are only about 15 minutes from the arena and this being our first adventure of this sort, we thought it would be a good idea to get there early. We were in our seats by 7:30. As we looked out over the arena, we saw lots of empty seats. Perhaps Post Malone did not draw a very big crowd, we thought.
When the clock struck 8, the first opening act came on stage. When the clock struck something after 9, the second opening act came on stage. Both of these young performers were rappers and we knew none of their songs. Now, for those of you who just rolled your eyes and mumbled something about rap music, understand this.....by the time the second opening act came on, the arena was nearly full. It was full of young millennials and I would venture to guess that every nationality on the face of God's green earth was represented in the crowd. Guess what? Everyone of those young people knew every single word of every single song both rappers sang. Even the young couple behind us, who spoke no English to each other, sang their hearts out with the rest of the crowd.
Shortly after 10, Post made his appearance amid a cloud of dry ice smoke, laser lights and lots applause due to a nearly packed house. We sang along to the three songs we knew and listened to everyone else sing the rest. I cannot end without saying Post Malone has an amazing voice.
We learned three things from our first concert experience. 1. We probably won't do that again. 2. Now we understand why the seats didn't fill up until later. 3. If they had been handing out prizes for the oldest people there, we could have won.
A performer was coming to town. Up until a few months ago, I had never even heard of this person, although I had heard a few of his songs. That being in true Ruth form, my children would attest to the fact that their mother never knew the name of the singer or band, but did know most of the words to the particular song in question. They would also attest to the fact that I usually waited until they were surrounded by their friends and then I belted out a few lines so they could be mortified.
The performer was Post Malone. I had done a little research on him because back in July, I was asked to use one of his songs for a "Birthday Ditty"....something else I do.....that will surely be a riot at my wake.
Post Malone is a rap/hiphop and whatever else they call it, artist. He was born Austin Richard Post and turned a whopping 24 years old this past July. His father was a DJ and Austin Richard Post was exposed to many different types music.
In short, the kid is a self made success story, has sold over 60 million records and is a great example of never giving up on ones' dream.
My husband and I are both in our 60's. This was the first major concert either of us had ever been to. Seriously, I kid you not. When I asked him if he wanted to go, I had to sing a couple of lines of one of the songs so he would know who we were going to see. The tickets were purchased and we only had to wait a couple of days until concert time.
The concert was held at the PNC arena, which seats nearly 20,000, here in Raleigh. The PNC arena is home to the Carolina Hurricanes of the National Hockey League and the NC State Wolfpack men's basketball team.......and anyone who knows me well can bet their double hockey sticks I had to Google that information.
The concert was to start at 8 p.m. Even though we are only about 15 minutes from the arena and this being our first adventure of this sort, we thought it would be a good idea to get there early. We were in our seats by 7:30. As we looked out over the arena, we saw lots of empty seats. Perhaps Post Malone did not draw a very big crowd, we thought.
When the clock struck 8, the first opening act came on stage. When the clock struck something after 9, the second opening act came on stage. Both of these young performers were rappers and we knew none of their songs. Now, for those of you who just rolled your eyes and mumbled something about rap music, understand this.....by the time the second opening act came on, the arena was nearly full. It was full of young millennials and I would venture to guess that every nationality on the face of God's green earth was represented in the crowd. Guess what? Everyone of those young people knew every single word of every single song both rappers sang. Even the young couple behind us, who spoke no English to each other, sang their hearts out with the rest of the crowd.
Shortly after 10, Post made his appearance amid a cloud of dry ice smoke, laser lights and lots applause due to a nearly packed house. We sang along to the three songs we knew and listened to everyone else sing the rest. I cannot end without saying Post Malone has an amazing voice.
We learned three things from our first concert experience. 1. We probably won't do that again. 2. Now we understand why the seats didn't fill up until later. 3. If they had been handing out prizes for the oldest people there, we could have won.
Monday, November 4, 2019
Were We Meant To?
I have a deck of cards that I use daily during the week. They are Chakra cards. Chakras are the seven power centers of the body. The root chakra, located in the pelvic region, sacral chakra located between the pelvic region and the naval. The solar plexus chakra located at the naval. The heart chakra, location same as the name. The throat chakra, at the throat. The brow, or third eye chakra located right between the eyes, in front of the pituitary gland which is located deep in the lower region of the brain. Last but not least, the crown chakra, located at the top of the head. These are seven of 114 chakras. Each chakra has a related color: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple and white. Back to the cards. There are seven cards for each chakra and each card has a story that goes with it. These cards were created by Tori Hartman and the stories were told to her by angels as she healed from a severe accident that had caused her to have a NDE, near death experience.
I put these cards on an online social media platform during the week, Monday through Friday. Now, before someone goes running down the hallway screaming "Good grief! She's conjuring up demons! Run for your life!" No, I am not. It's just a helpful thought for the day that may help someone else who reads it. The card for the day was the "Workaholic". The meaning behind the card is very much like the old adage, "All work and no play, makes Joe, or whoever, a dull boy. It means that it is necessary to take time to have fun and enjoy life. By doing so, ones' work can be enhanced and performed possibly even better than before. Plus, it helps to alleviate getting burned out. The card can also mean that perhaps a person is keeping themselves so busy as to avoid what they really should be doing. That particular meaning resonates with me way too often.
The card for the day got a response from a person who said work, work, work was what they did to keep out of the nursing home. That comment made me think. Were we meant to work until we fall into that six foot hole? Is work good for us? Maybe we are getting work confused with a job. We all know that a job is something we must do, so to speak, to make ends meet but we shouldn't have to do that job until death do us part. Should we retire? Then what?
That may be the answer. Retirement should not mean doing absolutely nothing. Sitting in a recliner or on the couch watching TV for hours on end and eating junk food or staring at a cell phone all day can do as much damage physically as smoking. That is why the new catch phrase is, "sitting is the new smoking". Our bodies were not made to be docile. They were made to move and when we quit moving them, they begin to break down. So, if you have retired from a job or are working your fingers to the bone be sure to take time for yourself. Have fun, try something new, take a walk or turn on the radio and dance like there is no tomorrow. Take nothing for granted and leave no stones un-turned. Keep on keeping on, even when you don't want to. At the end of the day, you'll feel better about yourself and your body will thank you.
I put these cards on an online social media platform during the week, Monday through Friday. Now, before someone goes running down the hallway screaming "Good grief! She's conjuring up demons! Run for your life!" No, I am not. It's just a helpful thought for the day that may help someone else who reads it. The card for the day was the "Workaholic". The meaning behind the card is very much like the old adage, "All work and no play, makes Joe, or whoever, a dull boy. It means that it is necessary to take time to have fun and enjoy life. By doing so, ones' work can be enhanced and performed possibly even better than before. Plus, it helps to alleviate getting burned out. The card can also mean that perhaps a person is keeping themselves so busy as to avoid what they really should be doing. That particular meaning resonates with me way too often.
The card for the day got a response from a person who said work, work, work was what they did to keep out of the nursing home. That comment made me think. Were we meant to work until we fall into that six foot hole? Is work good for us? Maybe we are getting work confused with a job. We all know that a job is something we must do, so to speak, to make ends meet but we shouldn't have to do that job until death do us part. Should we retire? Then what?
That may be the answer. Retirement should not mean doing absolutely nothing. Sitting in a recliner or on the couch watching TV for hours on end and eating junk food or staring at a cell phone all day can do as much damage physically as smoking. That is why the new catch phrase is, "sitting is the new smoking". Our bodies were not made to be docile. They were made to move and when we quit moving them, they begin to break down. So, if you have retired from a job or are working your fingers to the bone be sure to take time for yourself. Have fun, try something new, take a walk or turn on the radio and dance like there is no tomorrow. Take nothing for granted and leave no stones un-turned. Keep on keeping on, even when you don't want to. At the end of the day, you'll feel better about yourself and your body will thank you.
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