The Leaning Cow

Our musings . . . Our emoos

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Estee Lauder and I

December 5th, 2016 · 1 Comment

For over four decades I have been using Estee Lauder products on my face. That’s saying it formally; casually speaking, I’ve been using the stuff that comes in a light blue box on my face for a long, long time. It has always been some shade of blue – the box, not the stuff itself. But this morning, I washed my face with a foaming cleanser that came in a maroon box. It made my skin tingle and, to be quite honest, actually feel soft and clean. So it seems to function pretty much like the foaming cleanser I’ve been using for four decades. Still, it was a maroon box. I don’t do change well.

The website has this insider tip:

When using this as a mask, place a towel on your pillow, lay back and take the two minutes to relax and meditate.

I am obviously an outsider because I like to move around a lot to get my face hot and let the stuff foam up, mix with sweat, sink down into my pours and sometimes . . . drip. Yes, it ain’t real classy, but it has worked for me. I have preached this method to others with no converts and I am not surprised – dripping is not all that attractive. But for me it has paid off.

Now, if you really want to see results, apply the cleanser and go mow the lawn . . . and I suppose it would be a good idea to just stop typing now.

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Surprised?

December 3rd, 2016 · No Comments

Yes, I knew I said I was going to be in and out and I knew I wasn’t outright lying; I just didn’t know if I really had the gumption to do more than take the padlock off the door. But, here I am. Unfortunately, this place is a MESS and a lot of folks know how I feel about housework. Time to consider Tom Sawyer’s fence painting? Maybe.

We have a Christmas tree; it is in an outbuilding. I think it may be too tall for our ceiling here and we will need to push a couple of tables out of the way. I believe this could get interesting, hopefully not so much so that the police come to check on the chaos. I may take pictures, but I’m not certain if they could become evidence to be used in court at my commitment hearing. I need a fairy godmother of Christmas trees; Oh, right, I used that service before and they said NEVER CALL US AGAIN.

I am a clumsy elf.

Sigh.

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Gone so long

December 1st, 2016 · 1 Comment

I came here, looked at the leaves on the porch and the dark windows and found I had forgotten my password. But I fumbled with my cyber key ring and found this old brass thing . . . and it worked. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, coming and going that is. However, the place has a comforting feel: Well, hi there AmeliaJake. You really didn’t need that key; we left the backdoor open for you.

So, shall we have a go at it again?

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Icebat Batman

September 17th, 2016 · 1 Comment

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Hospital Duty

September 17th, 2016 · No Comments

I am holding down the guest love seat in a hospital room; it is really something I would like to have at the house. One end pulls out to make a bed and I’m going to make a video. The vending machine on this floor is of a new design – I’m going to film it also. Yes, I am that easily that amused.

Oh, LZP sent Icebat Batman and there will be a picture of him also. See, there’s something to look forward to.

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Thelma and Louise at the PBC

September 4th, 2016 · No Comments

I remember several years ago, the movie It’s a Wonderful Life was playing all the time- first on TV because there was something about no fees for the stations and later, in stores during the Christmas season.

I have found the perfect movie to play on the TV mounted up on the wall here in at the PBC – Thelma & Louise; I haven”t decided which one I am yet, though I can’t see myself calming robbing a market.

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Tossed away the CLOSED sign

August 31st, 2016 · 1 Comment

Yes. we had our own little SNAFU here at the Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse and put the little hook in the eyelet on the screen door, closed the big old winter door and pasted a CLOSED sign in the window. After whatever number of days it has been (This is not a Ted Koppel hostage situation), I decided that the being closed thing wasn’t getting me anywhere.

So I – without consulting my compatriots, such as Foo of the FooBar – just up and took the sign down and opened up the doors. The Peanut Butter is on the shelf, bread and knifes are handy and I guess we could stir up a cure.

Can’t guarantee the conversation, however; somebody may climb on a table and turn it into a soapbox; it’s about as much an unknown as can be, just a bunch of tomorrows.

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Well, Yakaroo, Life can get you off balance

July 20th, 2016 · No Comments

Okay, I’ve not been here very much and when I came this morning I saw a strange post. It was a funky little thing I had written about the house way back when and because I didn’t want to just save a draft, I postdated it by a looooooong time. And then I wasn’t watching and BOOM, there it is.

Oh, well, I guess I need to follow it up with a page from Alice’s Restaurant and have 27 color photos with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one. If you want a pleasant meander in sort of a Garrison Keillor story set to music, listen to Alice’s Restaurant by Arlo Guthrie. (It’s long, but it’s worth it.)

I also noticed that somehow, some of the earlier posts are in bold print. How did I do that? More to the point, how do I undo that. The workman will be here soon from Home Depot and I am fighting the urge to just hammer that boldness down to size instead of finagling around with little computer instructions.

UPDATE: I calmed down; no hammer.

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House specifics

July 17th, 2016 · No Comments

And, Lordy, when you are looking at a resale house, there is the matter of the structural condition of the house. Now, that’s basic, but it often gets overlooked, quite frankly, by the cosmetics of the interior.

Right now I’m thinking about a sturdy brick house with lots and lots of room so you don’t get cabin fever in the long Northern Indiana winters. This would be one with big bedrooms that actually come off of what is an upstairs lobby, not a cramped hallway. This house might have a 30 foot living room with western exposure, with one end of the living room connecting to a paneled den with a working fireplace that has a south and west wall of windows and the other end that has two sets of French Doors, one leading to an enclosed and separately heated porch, where the windows let in lots of light filtered by woodsy evergreens outside that provide privacy in town. This sentence is getting long, so let me start another one. Another set of French Doors gives entrance to dining room, and, yes, there’s a long kitchen through a swinging door, so if you’re being informal, the two rooms can blend together and if you are (cough, cough) being a little fancier, you can keep the swinging door shut so that diners don’t have to know cooking the meal might have been a little messy.

I’m thinking about this fictional brick house that has a basement that contains a large common room, a knock about catch all room, a fruit cellar, a dedicated furnace room and a separate stairs to the garage.
If memory serves right, this house has a front vestibule and a back vestibule to keep the outside at bay when doors are opened.

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A watershed week

July 16th, 2016 · No Comments

I often travel on I-75 between Dayton and just south of Wapokeneta; every time I make the trip, I see a little marker that denotes the watershed area. I know when I am leaving the Lake Erie watershed and when I enter the Ohio River watershed.

Life can be like that, although you really can’t go back and forth between them. There is nothing to do but get on with it, or in a well-quoted phrase of late, often shown in red: Keep Calm and Carry On.

SO, ON TO OTHER THINGS. I was reading this week about John Wayne, mainly because I saw a little factoid about him that piqued my curiosity and set me off researching more. I found something that chokes me up every time it crosses my mind: his last words. No, it was nothing like My only regret is that I have but one life to give for my country; it was a personal response to a question put to him by his daughter.

He was in a hospital bed, a slight long bump under the sheet, having been ravaged by cancer. His personality, however, still filled the room, though Death was waiting so very close. Holding his hand, his daughter asked if he knew who she was.

His voice was weak, but the cadence of his words was unmistakably John Wayne as he answered, Of course I know who you are. You’re my girl. I love you.

And, yes, my eyes are moist and my throat tight. I think when after Death had come and gone, John Wayne’s personality still filled the room. He had courage and dignity, character and a heart that loved.

It is difficult to stop hearing it: Of course I know who you are. You’re my girl. I love you. Maybe that’s not a bad thing – to have such basic, decent humanity echoing in your mind, reminding you to take a deep breath, brace yourself, and try to do a little bit better.

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