Third day of persistent fog, you would think we are in London or something.  Anywho, I am tired of it.

Lack of sunshine has a tendency to change my outlook on life.  Always has and I suppose it always will.  I could use a little sunshine, a little less Christmas Muzak, and a stiff belt of something.

Another thing is I am not getting outside much, getting so fat, this spring I will be able to sell shade at our annual garage sale.


Came out here to check on the space heaters, do not want to have to buy a water pump like I had to do a couple of years ago.  I am looking at the old hoopie and it has my juices flowing, I want to get out on the road and fly!

To roam at will … I want to be westbound and down, six on the floor, the other foot out the door, in the smart aleck lane, styling down the boulevard.

Aint gonna happen.

Before gainful employment corrupted my life, I used to delight in long solo drives back to the Midwest to check up on the Rust Belt of America. Now I find that I am relegated to writing letters to the editor, to have them edited for content, brevity and perhaps, temporary insanity.

Reading E-mails from AT&T that state: “Your telephone bill is ready; please check online at” ……. as if I was anxiously expecting that and/or waiting in great anticipation for it.

Or …. “In order to register your new domain name, it will be necessary for YOU to provide US with this, and that, yadda-yadda, blah-blah.  Soon the kids will be here to collect their Christmas lucre and that one kid will say something like:  I love what you’ve done with your hair. How do you get it to come out of the nostrils like that?”  The little prince of scratch n sniff, he is my favorite one of the bunch.

Guess I will slink back in there and watch a little TV. 

When I see ads on TV with smiling, happy housewives using a new cleaning product, the only thing I want to buy are the meds they must be on.  One last thing, “The key to every relationship is honesty. Honesty. Honesty. Honesty. Honesty. … Gonna keep typing this until she stops looking over my shoulder.”

C’mon Sunshine!


Indian Winter

The votes having been counted, it was noted that the tribe had a new chief.  He was a young chief, not versed in the ways and rituals of the tribe.  He stood before them and promised that he would do the very best that he was capable of as their new leader.

One brave asked him, “Chief, will we have a bad winter?”

The new chief, not really knowing, said to him, “Me tell you tomorrow.”  That night, he called the U.S. Weather Service and inquired about the weather, the man on the phone said to him, “Right now, we are not all that sure.  Cut firewood.”

So the next day, the new chief assembled the tribe and said to them, “Winter cold.  Cut firewood.”

A month later, the same brave, same question.  “What will winter be like this year?” again the new chief tells him, “See me tomorrow.”  He then again calls the U.S. Weather Service in Santa Fe New Mexico and they tell him, “We are not sure.  Cut firewood.”

So again the new chief assembles everyone and tells them the same news, adding “cut more firewood.”

Two months goes by and it turns a little bit nippy, the leaves have fallen from the tree’s, there is a little frost on the pumpkin early in the morning.  Again the tribe member inquires about the weather, again the new chief tells him to see him tomorrow.  He dials up the number, and makes the inquiry.

“What winter be like?”  The man at the U.S. Weather Bureau on the other end says, “We aren’t sure, but it may get really bad, all these Indians around here are cutting firewood like crazy!”

Turning cold, old man winter is just around the corner.  I can tell as my old bones tell me so every morning when I roll out of bed.  It has gotten so bad, that now I find, different parts of me are waking up at different times.  We had some arctic cold move thru here over the weekend.

Let it be known, “I am not a Big Fan of Wintertime.  No Sir.”  This is the time of the year when you start having problems with your skin, it dries out, things start itching on you, you catch yourself scratching parts of your body that you have not seen in five years.

One thing you can do to avoid dry winter skin is to not take hot showers.
Long, hot showers strip the skin of essential oils.
You can also switch soaps.
Use something that is not all that harsh.
Wash only what needs washing (the stinky parts) and let the rest of it go.
This will not make any points with the little woman, but we are talking survival here, not affection.
Use more moisturizers, I prefer the pump kind in the bottle, but I have been told they are not good enough to get the job done.
You need thick moisturizers.
The hard, thick creamy jobs, it should have a sort of Vanilla Milk Shake texture.
You can also increase the indoor humidity of your home in the winter.
And lastly, if none of this works for you, you can move to Arizona or Florida.

Tomorrow boys & girls, we will show you how to make a therm-o-nuclear device out of ordinary household cleaners found around the house, don’t miss it.  (I know I am really looking forward to it)


Once Around The Block


One of my readers has labeled CE as a “soapbox.”  I find that curious, even looked it up and still cannot for the life of me figure out why someone would label this “a soapbox.”  To me it is “diverse, interesting, but I don’t find it under the other definition at all.”  Soapbox (1.)  platform for speaking: something, such as a wooden box, used as a platform for making an impromptu speech  (2.)  box for soap: a box in which soap is packed

Maybe it is me, but I just do not get it, I must be old hat or something.

Eleven degree’s outside, and that my friends, is cold.  Downright chilly, and despite it all, I did manage to get out of the house for a brief trip to the mall yesterday.  Bought a new calendar, I was really torn between cute puppies and National Parks, ended up getting the one with all the shots of the National Parks.  I have had a puppy. Please bear with me this day, I am depressed and down in the mount, I need some sunshine in my world, and it is not there, if I did have a soapbox, I would break it up for firewood.

Back to the calendar, it is nice.  Twelve glorious shots of places that have to be better than here for 2009.  And I am ready, boy am I ready, “I cannot find enough shoes in the world to toss at 2008 and that is fact.”

Right now the wind is blowing about 30 mph out of the north, and I am not totally sure, but I believe it has been blowing across the top of some snow somewhere, before it reached my location.  It is bone chilling cold and I don’t know how a homeless person could even survive in this type of weather.  The windshield wipers on my truck have frozen up, and that is not the blades on the windshield, but the part that is attached to the motor, the motor shaft, and they will not turn.

Never did that before, that is cold my friends.

I read this morning, where a woman was found, alive, buried in over four feet of snow for two days in Canada after a car wreck.  They say she will more than likely lose some body appendages due to frost bite, but she survived and to me, that is incredible.

Tonight, I will fill that old bathtub to the rim with hot water, and I will soak in it and let my mind drift.  This is the modern day cure all for “Oklahoma Cabin Fever.”  My mind is my playground this time of the year, I lie in the tub, and I trip out to warm exotic places.

I will close my eyes, allow the warmth of the water to permeate my soul and the whole world is new again.  I sneak off to my secret place … Just me and the rubber ducky.

I can hardly wait.


“We need to take actual time every day to think about and express gratitude for the important role our homes play in our lives.”