Monthly Archives: August 2017

Just Me - AmeliaJake, The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

Jeez, I had to remember my password again

Once upon a time, I would come to this site and not have to sign in because I had clicked keep me logged in. Well, I guess those days are long past. And perhaps I shouldn’t have remembered the password because what I intended to write about was the green snot in my nose. Yeah, I just put it right out there: SNOT. Before I had to go through the password thingie, my mind was already mulling over a more proper word than snot, although one that would imply the same GREEN.

Why am I writing about it? Because my nose hurts and pain radiates up into my sinuses and it has been doing so for about a month and so, finally, I made a doctor’s appointment. However, I just could not bring myself to go into his office in my plumped-out, woebegone state and so I made it for two weeks hence. As if regained weight will fall off and blossoming wrinkles will fade and I will get a perky bounce in my step.

What the real problem is is that I turned 69 and there on the next step is 70. That number makes me feel kind of snot green all over. 70!!!  Who knew that the second star to the right, straight on through until morning would lead to 70?

 

Just Me - AmeliaJake, The Peanut Butter Cafe & Roadhouse

Well, now I’ve gone and done it

I decided to take a quick look through my mail before I actually did something productive – such as moving a cabinet out of the way in the basement so the plumber who came to day and muttered, “Ahhhhhh” could access a good place to cut through the floor tomorrow. I saw Book Bub’s suggestions and noted one in particular: Bushmaster. Yeah, it’s what you’re thinking – a book about snake guy Raymond Ditmars.

With a series of No’s pounding in my head I still let a finger move the cursor and click a key and, voila, it was headed to my Kindle. Now you know that when you do that they pop up titles of books of the same ilk. I was not going to push my luck and buy another, but I did let my curiosity get the better of me when the synopsis of one mentioned a snake guy named Joe Slowinski and Burma and a krait. I googled his name and found this article AND I READ IT. Oh, I don’t know if I want to close my eyes tonight.

Just Me - AmeliaJake

Ove, my kitchen drain is leaking into my basement

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I see that a book titled “A Man Called Ove” is a best-seller and has been recommended via a blog by three – now five – people. I looked over at Kindle Books to see a synopsis. This is the first paragraph:

Read the New York Times bestseller that has taken the world by storm!

Meet Ove. He’s a curmudgeon—the kind of man who points at people he dislikes as if they were burglars caught outside his bedroom window. He has staunch principles, strict routines, and a short fuse. People call him “the bitter neighbor from hell.” But must Ove be bitter just because he doesn’t walk around with a smile plastered to his face all the time?

Ove sounds quite a bit like me. Now, apparently, life changes Ove’s outlook, according to the rest of the summary on the Kindle site. Oh, good. And Cinderella marries the Prince. And the Grinch’s heart grew three times its normal size . .

I can tell you right now that I’m more than sure that what happens to Ove is a good thing, a heartwarming thing, a worthy thing, a thing to hope to experience. I can also tell you right now that sometimes a person is so Ove-ized that he/she just wants to say, “This is my pool of self-pity and I’m going to wallow in it.”

I should welcome the example of Ove for this has been a year of sort of dodged bullets, of weeks of tension and worry that turned out much better than it could have. I know, I know; this above expressed angst, irritability and desire to walk up to a wall and kick it needs to be Ove(r). But it hangs around – maybe I am leaving out food for it.

Sigh, I’m going to have to think about this.