Translator needs a translator....

I like to do stuff. I find millions of things to do on Pinterest. I save them for later.......(yawn).

But these directions for making a round basket out of plastic bags were obviously translated from another language by somebody other than a human being. (I hope)

Check this out.

I especially like this line....

"We can get his head on a nail wire for easy weaving!"

So, when you are really pissed off at some guy, you might want to get his head on a nail wire for easy weaving!

Now you have the directions.

image credit

Lord of the flies....

We have a compost pile. Actually have several compost piles, but only one where kitchen scraps go. I keep a white porcelain pot on my counter and compost goodies go in there.

Yesterday it was pretty full, so I grabbed it to lug it up the hill when suddenly a bazillion fruit flies took flight.

I came back with an empty container, but the fruit flies, with rather perplexed looks on their faces because  their lunch was suddenly gone, were still there.

What to do?

I did what any normal 29 plus old person would do.....Google it!

One site I found said to take a cup and fill it 1/4th of the way with water, squirt in a little dish soap and splash in some vinegar. Then cover this cocktail with cling wrap and poke a few little holes in it.

Apparently the fruit flies, smart as they are, will find the itty bitty holes and because they thirst for vinegar martinis, will dive right in.

And then the fruit flies, dumb as they are, cannot find their way out again. So the next thing they know is that they are in the drink, without life jackets.

Voila.
No more fruit flies. (Where do they come from anyway?)

Thank you, once again,  Google.

More gag gag.....

OK, so I want to be open minded about this. As much as the meat ensemble gagged me, (see my previous two posts) (the smell alone, which I can smell from here...), I remembered seeing her perform on TV with Elton John during the Grammy Awards and I remembered being very impressed with her talent.

I'm impressed with anyone, first of all, that can play the piano. It's always been a fantasy of mine. And secondly I'm impressed with anyone who can sing. I can't sing worth a lick.

(No comments, Birdman...)

She can do both quite well.

If you could take the time to watch this video, hang in there through the beginning and watch her sing with Elton, well.........I am speechless...

Well done, Stephani Joanne Angelina Germanotta.

Oh, what a night.....

I am still recovering from my airport mishap 2 days ago. I am recovering with pizza, icecream and wine. 

This may take a few days, or weeks or more.

I actually am very busy taking care of the business I came here for. My mom is still in the throes of a very long recovery and dad is doing the best he can.

Just in case you are wondering, which I'm sure you are, here are the photos from beautiful Philadelphia Airport....you know....on 'that' night. (Longest night of my life, btw.)

Here is where I sat for about an hour with my tea and a chocolate glazed donut, plus my laptop, of course!! (Thank you Philly airport for free wireless! Not all airports have that.)

The halls of the airport at around 10:45 p.m.  Deserted.

What goes on after 11 pm at the food court. I don't even want to know what's going on. (Looking for the runway?)

My home for the night at gate C 26. I bought a new pair of fuzzy socks at Newport News shop, the Information Desk gave me the pillow and a blanket. Where's the blanket you say? It's there.

That tiny, teeny little rectangle above my new socks. Yup, that's it. It's called a space blanket.

(If you don't know what that is, it's a gigantic, gargantuan, monster sheet of aluminum foil type of stuff that's suppose to retain 90 percent of your body heat. When you take it out of the plastic sleeve, that is. As it is now, it's pretty much useless.)

My view from my bed. I was posting yesterday's post in my new socks. I finally fell asleep with my pillow up against my backpack which was propped up against the wall. Not the most comfortable position, but at least then I'd be alerted if someone tried to steal my stuff.

After around 2 a.m. it turned frigid. I tried to hold out and not get up because I was so danged tired, but I had to resort to the space blanket. Note: Space blankets make A LOT of noise when handled. But I did manage to cover myself with this oddball thing, and it actually DID keep me warm.

What was worse was that the Musak (elevator music) played at ear splitting decibels all night long and the night crew highway repair lighting was never dimmed. A TV was on all night long in the gate area and sleep was very hard.

The night cleaning crew appeared around 11 pm and worked all night. The humming of the floor polishers and vacuums actually were a welcome relief.

After a while I decided in my sleep to find out what time it was. I estimated that it must have been around 3:30 am. I took out my cell phone and discovered it was 5:15 am!!!

I opened one eye and this is what I saw.....

People already there waiting for the 6:45 flight that I was taking!!! I have no idea what they must have thought of that woman in the corner wrapped up in aluminum foil. (that would be me...)

I calmly sat up as if sleeping across 3 seats wrapped in Alcoa wrap was perfectly normal. The hard part was stuffing the Space Blanket into my back pack because it made sooooooo much noise. (Attracting unwanted attention...although nobody seemed to care.)

I combed my hair with my fingers, packed up and headed to Au Bon Pain for breakfast.

Turning back to the gate, this was the view....
There were plenty of people there, going about their business for a normal flight, happy that the seemingly homeless woman was leaving....

Pissed off....

Right now, and I mean right now, I am pissed off.

It's 11:39 pm. 

That's bad enough, that I am still awake.

The part that makes it pissable, is that I am at Gate C26 at the Philadelphia airport.

I'm the only one at Gate C26 at the Philadelphia airport.

Did I mention that it's 11:41 pm?

My flight is at 6:45 am.

Do the math.

Why am I here?

Good question.

My mom, who lives in Orlando, fell last weekend and broke a vertebrae in her back. She's 89 years old. Not good. She also has heart issues. She's in a rehab facility at the moment.

So, being the good daughter that I am, I took off to help out a little. Dad is also 89 and he's at home.

Got to the Portland Jetport okay. Got on the plane okay. Plane taxied to runway okay.

Plane shuts off engines. NOT OKAY.

Pilot says they didn't know we were going to use the runway so we weren't scheduled.

So we have to wait about 25/30 minutes. Then we'll go.

"...they didn't know we were going to use the runway???????"

You can't make this up.

Understand, I had 44 minutes between flights. If all goes ok, that's not a lot of time.

So now I'm down to 20 minutes between flights.

So we take off. When we are almost in Philly, the pilot comes on and says, "They won't let us land, so we have to circle for a while."

"They won't let us land????????"

Now I KNOW that I'm in the Twilight Zone. 

Using the runway? Silly us. Needing to land? Preposterous.

So by some miracle we  land and I calculate that my next plane is leaving in 11 minutes. It's still actually here. BUT, I'm in the back of the plane and nobody seems to be opening the door.

(Another foreign concept, I'm sure. I am convinced that they are making this all up as they go along.)

We landed at Gate C-24. My plane is leaving from Gate B-5. Not good.

After an excruciating amount of time goes by, I hit the terminal floor running. Along with about 10 other people, not all going to the same place.

I notice that some people can run faster than me. So fast, in fact, they are yelling out "excuse me! excuse me!" 

I am yelling out "&^%$#^&*#*&", and  " (make  heavy breathing sounds)".

 These people appear to be 30 to 40 years younger than me. That might have a wee bit to do with it.

No one pays any attention to me clopping along.

I run until I can run no longer. Running in sandals is not good. Running with a backpack on and pulling a rolling valise is not good. None of this is good.

Look. What's ahead? Why, it's B-1 ! Followed by B-2 and 3, then 4! Can B-5 be far behind, I joke to myself?

No joke. B-4 is followed by B-6. 

"WTF?"

B-6 .....B-9 then what to my wondering eyes should appear? But, yes, yes, yes B-5!!!!!!

B-5.

 I'm sure there were people there once.

Did I mention that it's 12:03 am?

more later......

   24 years ago tonight.....ah, yes. What a mish mash of emotions. Something that hurt so much produced something so wonderful. Weird, huh? I can see where the phrase 'no pain, no gain' comes from. My little boy was born.

   This photo was taken during his first day on this earth. How Mr. Downeast doing stuff caught this smile with his camera, is beyond me...but he did. Had no idea he captured it until the film was developed. (Remember the old days...actually developing film?) (Although, that particular picture was developed in a darkroom by Mr. DEDS himself.)

   Now, just to clarify, that mysterious smile disappeared once we got home. And it wasn't Mr. DEDS's housekeeping skills while I was sequestered in the hospital. Something called 'colic' took over, and he cried for three entire months. Three long months. The doctor told me that it would probably last ONLY three months. After ONLY three months, TO THE DAY, he woke up smiling again and he's been smiling ever since. (I didn't mind it too, too much however,....I got to hold him almost all his waking hours. He always smelled nice.) (ummm, in retrospect I didn't mind it...) 

   As a matter of fact, he has the most beautiful smile I've ever seen. Really. A tiny part of it is thanks to his orthodontist, but mostly it's him.

   And you know what? He makes me feel like smiling, too. 

   I love you, little bird.

   Happy Birthday my baby.

The First Kiss

It's my Birthday!!

This picture just about says it all....(sigh)

For Cali....

Little girls are made of daisies and butterflies and soft kitty purrs

And all the precious memories of times that once were.

Little girls are made of angel's wings and giggles and a firefly's glow

And all the happy feelings, deep inside, that we all know.

Little girls are made of cinnamon and bubbles and fancy white pearls

And snowflakes and rainbows and ballerina twirls

Little girls are made of sunshine and cupcakes and fresh morning dew,

And these are the reasons, little one, why everyone loves you!

By Karen Barnes

I found this poem for a special little grand niece in the Sunshine State....

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Oooo, I almost forgot to photograph the pumpkin sticky buns I made before they were gone! They were deeeelicious! This is a recipe compliments of Ohio Mom in her Cooking in Cleveland blog.... the link is in my sidebar. I did do a couple things differently. I didn't have pumpkin, but I had baggies of cooked Butternut squash in the freezer. (DON'T tell my son this fact !) The one I defrosted came out to only 3/4 of a cup, but it worked fine. I also used Rapid Rise yeast (Yeast designed for the impatient) , so I mixed the yeast in with the dry ingredients and then added the wet ingredients. The first rising was only 10 minutes and then the second rising...I eyeballed...til the buns doubled in size, about 1 hour. I didn't even put any confectioners sugar glaze on them like I usually do for cinnamon buns. These are great. Thanks Ohio mom!

  Oh, I also put in walnuts instead of raisins....(I like raisins, but my son, the one that doesn't like butternut squash, doesn't like them.)