Too Much of a Good Thing

Posted on August 28, 2021 by Sheila Moss

I have this thing for popcorn — popcorn with salt. My popcorn passion comes from childhood. We popped it on the stove in those days, and I knew how much oil and how much corn to add to get it to come out just right every time. You had to shake the pot periodically to get the kernels to the bottom of the pot where they would be hot enough to pop. If you put in too much popcorn, the lid would pop off the pot, so you didn’t want to do that. 

They have ruined popcorn now by making different flavors. Cheese popcorn turns your hands yellow. Carmel corn is covered with candy. You can’t even taste the popcorn anymore for all the extra stuff. When something is already perfect, they should just leave it alone.

Nowadays we don’t use a pot to pop corn. We don’t even use the electric poppers that were prevalent for a while, but are now found mostly at garage sales. In the modern world, we have microwave popcorn. Like everything else these days, popcorn went instant. As always, they tend to have too many varieties: butter, lite butter, plain, salty, movie theater, kettle corn, cheese corn, caramel corn, even Cajun corn. What’s next? Dill pickle corn?

My daughter bought me a giant bag of pre-popped corn. It was so big she could hardly carry it. “I couldn’t resist buying it for you.” she said. I appreciated the gesture, but this is the biggest bag of popcorn I’ve ever seen. The more I eat, the more there seems to be. I know that corn is still growing — in a cornfield or not. 

The bag was so large that I had nowhere to put it away. There wasn’t a cabinet in the house big enough to hold it. The popcorn ended up following me from room to room, like a pet or a mascot. I didn’t know what to do with it. I couldn’t put it in the garage as it might draw mice. I couldn’t put in the bathroom because that’s gross, and besides there wasn’t room. I was getting really tired of dragging that huge bag of popcorn around from room to room.

Finally, I decided to leave it near my computer so I could munch while I worked. It was getting a little stale by now and there seemed to be more of it than when I started. It watched me, waiting for me to notice that it had not been eaten yet. I felt guilty for ignoring it — but you can only eat so much popcorn. I wondered what happened to those big decorative cans we had at Christmas? 

I hate to waste so much popcorn, loving it the way I do. But what else can I do? It seems bigger every day. Maybe I could put it in the bird feeder for the birds — or string it for the Christmas tree, or make popcorn balls for Halloween, or take it to the park and feed the ducks, or take it to the movies and forget it when I leave. 

If you have any suggestions for old popcorn, please let me know — quickly. Meanwhile, if you happen to read in the paper that the roof popped off a house like the lid on a pot of popcorn, you will know it was mine.   

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Food, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

Solar Flares

Posted on August 17, 2021 by Sheila Moss

The other day my phone stopped working. “Solar flares could have caused a computer glitch,” the phone company told me. “We’ve had hundreds of people with this problem.”

Solar flares? I Googled it and sure enough a solar flare had occurred. The sun has been in an inactive period of sleep, according to the article I found. It is becoming more active now and we can expect more interruptions to technology as it awakens.

We now have something to blame for everything that goes wrong, something that we can’t do anything about.

Years ago, a large solar flare caused all sorts of chaos, even burning up a telegraph. Now, however, we have a whole lot more gadgets to worry about than we did back in the 1800’s.

We’ve been having problems with our TV satellite at my house. As it turns out, it’s a bad cable and some incorrect connections in the wiring. But we could easily say a solar flare was to blame.

We couldn’t get the laptop and iPad to connect to the internet, Two hours on the phone with technical support fixed the problem. We still are not sure what caused it in the first place other than messing with the Wi-Fi connection while moving furniture — or perhaps a solar flare.

Come to think of it, we’ve had a lot of odd problems lately. For example, the refrigerator went on the blink and started making a noise. The repairman said the fan went bad. But we know what really caused it, don’t we?

And the hard drive on my computer crashed a few weeks ago too. Remember what happened to the telegraph? Maybe it was a hardware failure like the computer guy said, or maybe it was caused by a solar flare.

Do you suppose a solar flare zapped the timer on my coffee pot and made it run over the other morning? That was quite a mess. I thought coffee pots had an automatic shut off feature when you forget to put the pot under the drip. I would like to think that something caused it other than my inattentiveness.

Come to think of it, nearly everything is run by a computer these days and computers are very susceptible to glitches caused by solar flares.

Window won’t roll down on the car? Burned out mechanical part or solar flare?

Remote control quit working and a new battery won’t fix it? It’s not due to age and worn out parts. Blame it on a solar flare.

Can’t get into the bank account online? Routine maintenance, my eye! They were struck by a solar flare and didn’t want to admit their system was compromised.

Email not working right? I thought I simply needed to upgrade to a newer version. Now I’m beginning to wonder if the upgrade has anything to do with something else, like a you-know-what.

No telling what could happen: traffic lights failing, planes crashing, elevators getting stuck, air conditioners quitting when its a hundred degrees outside, dishwashers stopping in mid-cycle, and, worst of all, the remote control for the television set could quit working.

Unfortunately, as I said before, there doesn’t seem to be a whole lot any one can do about it except worry, and why worry about something we can’t do anything about?

Besides, I just saw in the news that a comet will be passing the earth and showering us with meteorites. Meteorites will probably do us in before the solar flares have a chance.

I only hope the meteorites don’t crash through the roof. It is already leaking from the spring storms and crazy weather caused by what-I’m-tired-of-talking-about.

I’m really happy that scientists found solar flares to blame for all of my problems. It is getting where the “computer malfunction” excuse is so overused that no one believes that one anymore.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Environment, Humor, Technology, Weather | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Be Careful What You Ask For

Posted on August 13, 2021 by Sheila Moss

Wood is hard and unforgiving. I’ve already dropped a glass and had it shatter everywhere. Of course, you can’t expect to drop a glass and not have it break, but with the new floor, it smashes into smithereens. And I better be careful cleaning it up or I might scratch the new floor.

The coldness feels good now since it is summer. Maybe the insulation under the wood will help this winter. If not I will need to get in the habit of wearing house shoes. I guess I’ll get used to it after a while. I had just grown lazy and comfortable with the dirty old carpet.

Now with new floors, I feel obligated to keep things nice and clean. Which reminds me, I haven’t dust mopped today. Where’s that wood cleaner spray? I think I see a smudge over there in front of the door.

Be careful what you ask for … you might get it … and then you have to keep it clean.

The first week was spent looking at the floor and admiring it. Gone is the dirty carpet — gone to used carpet heaven, or wherever it is that worn-out carpeting goes when it dies. Gone is the dust that accumulated over the years in spite of all attempts to vacuum and steam clean it away. Gone are the musty smells and spots from years of spills and accidents.

Free at last, I thought. Free from dirty rugs. No more being held hostage by the dust mites that time has forgotten. It’s true, but there are some differences between carpets and hardwood, differences I had not anticipated.

The noise is difference number one. We installed an insulation blanket under the hardwood to help with the noise. Thank goodness. I can only imagine if we had not. We still have an echo.

The carpet muffled sound. Now every thing seems so loud. I can hear someone talking in another room. The television blasts as sound bounces from wall to wall. The cat’s meow is like the roar of a lion and I can hear bumps on the floor when someone walks. The house is like a small gymnasium or bowling alley.

And there is dust. I don’t know where dust comes from. Granted, there is less than before. But whatever dust there is has nowhere to go. It cannot sink into the nap of the rug and hide. It settles on the floor and stays there until you sweep or dust mop.

I never imagined that the floor was so dirty, but now I cannot deny it. The evidence is right there on the dust mop, along with crumbles and tiny pieces of who-knows-what that have to be swept into a dust pan. What is that stuff anyhow? No wonder the rug was dirty.

And then there are foozles, little balls of dust or cat hair that blow across the floor like tiny tumble weeds. Some of them are captured with my dust mop frenzies. Others are pulled to the furnace vent. The other day I removed half a cat from the furnace grid, minus claws and eyes.

Like noise, light seems to reflect more. There are glares on the floor and glares on the TV screen that never existed before. I have to keep the curtains closed or wear sunglasses. A clean floor reflecting like a mirror makes everything else look old and dirty. I wore out two Magic Erasers cleaning the walls and baseboards. I hadn’t even noticed they needed it before.

While we don’t need ice skates to navigate the hall, the slickness still seems to bother the pets. The cat’s back end may skid while making a fast turn and the dog can no longer jump around as his back legs spin and he can get traction. That might not be such a bad thing, but he seems so sad, like an old dog with arthritis.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Home, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Delicious Rewards?

Posted on August 5, 2021 by Sheila Moss

My lunch bag finally came, the one I was saving frozen diet-dinner boxes for all that time. It is really cute and I like it, even if I did have to save boxes for a hundred years to get it.

But now that I have it, I can’t stop saving boxes. The first promotion apparently went so well that the company decided to have another one. “Save your boxes for delicious rewards!” So I kept on saving — one a day — occasionally two — box after box.

Fortunately, I like their frozen dinners and they are the kind I buy anyhow. So the delicious rewards are free – in a manner of speaking. I eat them for lunch instead of eating a cold baloney sandwich or eating out.

There was a gap between the two promotions, but I faithfully saved my boxes the entire time and had quite a backlog by the time it started up again.

On the first week of the new promotion, the website was jammed. I suppose everyone else had a backlog of boxes too. Finally, I was able to get in and enter the codes for my delicious culinary related rewards.

For the new promotion, however, the rewards are not nearly as delicious as the lunch bag. I don’t know what I expected. The featured delicious reward is a set of bird-shaped salt and pepper shakers. Salt shakers? Don’t people eating low-fat dinners usually want low sodium too?

Other rewards are such things as aprons, napkin rings, a wine rack and a travel wine-opener kit. Why would someone who is buying diet dinners want prizes related to high-calorie beverages like wine?

Okay, the stuff is free, you say. Why complain? As grandpa used to say, “Never look a gift horse in the mouth.” I don’t know what that means, but I think it has something to do with not complaining about something free.

“Houston, we have a problem.” I don’t want this junk. Not even for free.

Who wears an apron these days to fix a frozen dinner? I’ve not seen anyone in an apron since Ozzie and Harriett went off the air. And she probably never heard of frozen diet-dinners. And who uses napkin rings or cloth napkins when serving frozen instant dinners? Even Harriett wouldn’t do that!

I was thinking of things like insulated trays to hold hot frozen dinners, oven mitts, place mats, beverage containers, TV trays, a low-cal cookbook, almost anything remotely related to dieting.

The shopping bag they offered for frozen food made more sense than anything and it was covered with advertising. I sort of doubt that I would drag an insulated bag to the grocery store anyhow.

Guess it goes to show you can’t get something for nothing. I’ll probably keep saving my boxes since I seem to be addicted. I will soon have enough points for half a dozen sets of salt shakers or napkin rings.

For the nicer prizes like a wine cooler, they want you to use your points to buy a chance to win it. First they giveth and then they taketh away. Who is in charge of these promotions anyhow?

A really amusing prize is one of their own diet dinners. I guess they figure that is at least one thing you will like. Somehow it makes me suspect they knew the rest of the stuff was pretty lame.

There must be something you can do with salt shakers or napkin rings besides the purpose for which they are intended. I just need to think creatively here. Any ideas?

And please don’t suggest I quit saving boxes. I’ve already thought of that one.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Food, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

Marge’s Valentine

Posted on August 2, 2021 by Sheila Moss

One day she didn’t show up for work, which wasn’t like Marge. Upon checking, they found that Marge had passed away quietly at home, sitting in a chair, alone except for her pets. Marge was a somewhat unusual person. Single for her entire life, she lived alone in a small apartment. Her parents were deceased and she had no relatives — no human relatives, at least. Marge’s family was her dog, Valentine. While other people had pictures of their family on their desk, Marge had a picture of Valentine.

Marge was an animal lover and an activist for animal rights. She was passionate about animals, and I’ve seen her fire off more than one angry letter or phone call when she thought animals were not being treated appropriately. She must have also been involved in demonstrations as she once told me about being at one when the circus came to town.

Marge decided that the church she attended should hold a service for the Blessing of the Animals. She approached her pastor, but he was not in favor of the special service. Marge was extremely upset and took her cause to the bishop. Finally, she created enough support, or enough aggravation, that the church agreed to hold the Blessing of the Animals.

Marge didn’t want the service to be outside in the parking lot, which is where most churches hold such a service — if they have it. She wanted it inside the church in the sanctuary. When Marge had a cause, there was no stopping her. She volunteered to clean up the church if there were any accidents and again she got her way. The service was a big hit and many people came with pets, mostly dogs and cats with a few hamsters and even one snake in a cage. Marge took her dog, Valentine.

As it turned out, it was the last blessing that Valentine would ever receive. Not long after the service was held, Marge called work to say that she wouldn’t be in that day. Valentine had passed away. Valentine was cremated and his ashes scattered along the path where she had walked him.

Marge decided that she wanted to hold a memorial service for Valentine — in church, of course. By then people had learned not to argue with Marge when it came to animals, so the service was set and everyone she knew or who knew of her was invited. The place was full. After all, how many times do people get to go to a funeral for a dog in the church?

Marge was broken-hearted without Valentine. We were all glad when another dog eventually adopted her. He didn’t take Valentine’s place, but he did fill an empty spot in her life. She finally seemed to stop grieving and was so excited that she brought the new dog to work so everyone could meet him.

Not long after the new dog, I changed jobs. I sort of lost track of Marge when I didn’t see her every day. We met a time or two for lunch, but eventually went our own ways and forgot to keep in touch. I heard about her death from a friend who also knew Marge from another time. She told me about running into Marge one day by accident and Marge had told her about her new tattoo. The Marge I knew was not the tattoo type. The wildest thing I could remember her doing was going to tapings for American Country Idol.

Even though I hadn’t kept in touch, Marge is the sort of person that you don’t forget. I always think of Marge when someone mentions animal rights. I heard that Marge’s funeral was so packed that there was no place to park.

Marge’s tattoo was on the left side of her chest, close to her heart. The tattoo was a picture of Valentine. I am sure Marge and Valentine went over the rainbow bridge together.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Friends, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Pet Play

Posted on July 20, 2021 by Sheila Moss

We have four pets, five if you count the fish. While I am away at work, the animals conspire with each other to think of ways to make me crazy. 

“I’ll chew the legs on the table,” says the dog to the cat. “You can start clawing the sofa.  If it wasn’t for us, these humans would never get any new furniture.” 

“I have a great idea,” says the cat. “Let’s get in the kitty litter box and throw litter. Then we can walk through it and track litter all over the house. Don’t you just love the way it sticks to the bathroom floor?” 

“I can’t imagine why you silly cats use a nasty old box of litter,” the dog comments. “Look at the nice clean carpeting. We really need to put our scent on it so everyone will know it belongs to us.” 

And so it goes. I’ve never actually heard these conversations, but I know they happen because of what the house looks like when I get home. In case you were wondering, none of the pets are actually mine. They belong to other family members. I like pets, but I like well-behaved pets better. 

The goldfish can’t chew or claw, so it uses passive aggression to drive humans mad. It swims to the top of the goldfish bowl, acting starved and holding its throat until it receives fish food. Then it refuses to eat and food settles on the bottom, eventually clouding the water so the bowl has to be cleaned. 

I tried to speak to the fish about this behavior, but it simply gave me the fisheye and swam away. “These crazy humans believe that I’m not smart enough to think of ways to get my water changed,” says the fish with a flip of its tail. 

“I”m bored says the dog. I believe I’ll slosh some water out of my water dish and walk through it. Look at all the neat pawprints I can make on the kitchen floor. This floor probably has more prints than the FBI data base.” 

“Why make pawprints on the floor,” says the cat, “When you can make them on the kitchen table. And from the table you can look out the window and watch birds.” Cats are notorious bird watchers, you know, and card-carrying members of the Audubon Society. 

What do dogs watch? Other dogs. The dog gets behind the curtains and sits for hours waiting for his canine friend to go for a walk so he can bark and scratch the paint off the window sill. “Can you come inside for a play date later, baby?”   

Meanwhile, the cats decide to take a nap. Cats always want to nap, but not on the floor. With all this nice soft furniture to use for cat beds in the living room, who could resist? 

The dog in the meantime has tried to chew into the box of dog treats, but can’t get inside. He finds a favorite toy instead and begins chewing the stuffing out. If he gets tired, he can always nap in the bed where the humans sleep. 

The cats tire of napping and scratching the furniture and decide to climb on bookcases and the mantel and see if they can push anything off on the floor. “Oh, don’t break that vase, says one cat. Break this one instead. It is our human’s favorite. Be careful not to cut your paw on the broken glass.” 

The cat can jump and touch the doorknob. “I could open this door if I only had a thumb,” it mumbles.” Then we could all escape and play outside for the rest of the day. Who knows, we might find a better trash can to turn over, one with more chicken bones and fewer coffee grounds.” 

“Wait,” says the dog.” I hear a car in the driveway.” He tears the blinds off the window to see and runs to the door to jump on the humans with love, affection and cuteness. 

“Boy, are they going to be happy to see us.”

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

A Writer’s Life

Posted on July 16, 2021 by Sheila Moss

A blog? Of course, I’m going to write in my blog. I always blog a few times a week. But first, I have to check my email. My inbox is overflowing, and I really need to delete the SPAM. I don’t know how all those people get my e-mail address.

I’m going to write in my blog, but I might as well have a cup of coffee first. It’s really too early in the morning to blog unless I have a cup of coffee. I certainly can’t write humor when I’m grumpy. What kind of blog would that be?

A blog? Yes, yes, I’m going to blog, but it’s time to work now. You don’t expect me to avoid work to write a blog?  Blogging doesn’t pay the bills. I’ll think of a good idea today and write in my blog during lunch.

Lunch is here. No time to fool with blogging. I need to eat lunch and get back to business. You can’t believe how busy I am today. Besides, my cell phone has been beeping all morning. I must have a hundred messages to check. I’ll do that now and write in my blog later.

Gosh, what a busy day. I’m pooped. And I still need to write in my blog. First things first, I need to fix some dinner. I cannot do without dinner just to write in my blog. There will be plenty of time for writing after the dishes are done.

What is on television? Gee, I’d really like to watch that. I know I didn’t write in my blog yet, but I’ll feel more inspired when I don’t have something else on my mind. That is my favorite program and several more good ones coming on after it. I guess the blog will not get written tonight. I can always do it later.

Write in my blog? Yes, I’m going to in my blog. Would you please quit bugging me about it? I’m tired! I have to sleep sometime you know. I can’t write when I’m this tired. My head would hit the keyboard and I’d be writing in my sleep.

Another day — another blog to write. I’ll think of something to write about while I’m in the shower. But would you just look at the news! Good grief! Floods, wildfires, global warming. I have to watch the news. I certainly cannot be blogging when the world is about to end.

Blog? Of course, I’m going to write in my blog. I always write in my blog a few times per week. Just like clockwork. I can’t seem to come up with a good idea. What I was going to write about doesn’t seem very funny anymore. I’ll think of something better while I’m walking the dog.

Now, I’m ready to write, just one small peek at email first. Oh, my goodness. Look at the news from my blogger friends. A blogger is ranting because he was edited. I need to write a blog about this while it’s hot. I can write my humorous blog later. Right now, I need to write about something else.

Okay, the work is done and posted, the flood is over and the news is too awful to watch any more. I’ve worked all week and been too busy to write and too tired when I got home. And okay, I’ll admit it. I had to see what happened on my favorite TV show. The world is full of distractions.

But here I am at the computer with an empty screen in front of me, a cup of coffee beside me, the dog is walked, the television is off, the cell phone is recharging, and the email inbox is empty. It’s Saturday morning and I don’t have any work to do. I’m ready at last to write in my blog. But for the life of me, I can’t remember what it was that I wanted to write about.

Copyright 2011-2021 Sheila Moss
Updated

Posted in Crafts/Hobbies, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

The Hoarder Episode

Posted on July 13, 2021 by Sheila Moss



My house was like an episode from “Hoarders.” I don’t know how it happened — but that’s what they all say, isn’t it? Okay, I do know how it happened and it’s my fault … sort of.

I wanted to get rid of the carpeting in my house. It was old and worn out and beyond the point of being revived by Merry Maids or Stanley Steamer or anyone else. At some point you just have to face the fact that nothing lasts forever and the carpet had to go. I have allergies and so do half the other people in the house. If we had to redo the floors, we might as well do something besides re-carpet.

I looked at all the ads in the magazines. I talked to other people who said how easy it is to take care of hardwood. I lusted after the new prefinished hardwood floor at the dentist office from the time I first saw it. So, I decided that I wanted hardwood … no more dusty carpets in my house.

That doesn’t sound like a hoarder, does it?

But hardwood floors were easier said than done. The installer came and measured, and then we went down to the local Lumber Liquidators and picked out a beautiful hardwood. After signing on the dotted line, I got the news. “Wood has to acclimate.”

“Acclimate?” What’s that?

Well, it seemed hardwood had to be in the house where it would be installed for a week to adjust to its new surroundings – all 50 boxes of it. It’s like a plant moving to a new location. Who would have known?

So, that’s why my dining area was full of boxes halfway to the ceiling with cats jumping around on them. It was awful, but what could I do?

And the rest of the boxes all over the house? I could explain, truly I could. But, that’s what they all say, isn’t it?

You see, when the installer was here, he didn’t like all my accessories. It happens that I like knickknacks and had a lot of things. And then I had some pictures of my grandchildren, and a few nice things that I picked up on various vacations or received as gifts. It’s was a hodgepodge of collectables, but tasteful, not overdone — in my opinion.

The installer said, “We, will move the furniture, but you need to move the lamps and all this other stuff.”

Oh dear, I was afraid of that. But I didn’t want my collectables broken. It may be junk and clutter to construction people, but it wasn’t to me.

And that’s what was in the other boxes. My son put most of them out in the garage where they would be out of the way. And some of it was on the fireplace mantel and kitchen cabinets.

Then I realized the closets would have to be emptied too. Oh-my-god! I forgot about the closets. How could I forget about the closets?

So that explained a lot more of it.

And those boxes in the bedroom that we were climbing around were honey’s “art collection.” He had a lot of art prints that we didn’t have room to hang, and so we put them in the big closet — the one under the stairs.

The dust? Did you have to bring up the dust? I dust every week. But, somehow when you start moving everything around, the dust flies. I don’t know where it comes from — but that’s what they all say, isn’t it?

After weeks of living like a hoarder, it was finally all over. I got rid of a lot of stuff that I decided wasn’t worth the trouble of packing and moving around. What was left would be clean. And this time I was going to keep it that way — but that’s what they all say, isn’t it?

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss
Edited

Posted in Home, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

The Year of the Locust

Posted on July 6, 2021 by Sheila Moss

This has been the year of the cicada in parts of the U.S. Cicadas have invaded like – well, like a plague of locusts from the Bible. Cicadas are sometimes called locusts, although, as I understand it, a true locust is more like a grasshopper.

These little buggers are not grasshoppers, but they do come in cycles. Our particular locusts are the 17 year cicadas, also known as Brood X. There are also 13 year cicadas and many places have both. How lucky can you be?

We were told that they would come this year. At first we didn’t pay much attention. “I remember last time,” said one friend, “and they were terrible. This year there are only a few.”
So much for that, we thought, but it was early. They were still underground and most had not yet immerged to put on their noisy spectacular.

How can I describe what they look like? To me they resemble a giant roach with the wings of a moth. But the prominent bug eyes that are bright orange are the worse part. They are without a doubt one of nature’s ugliest creations.

At first I noticed only a few dead ones lying on the sidewalk. Well, they were dead, nothing to worry about there. They are not going to be nearly as bad as last time, I thought.

And I was right, they were not as bad as before — they were worse. As the weather grew hotter, more of them began to emerge from their holes. They were looking for two things – food and sex. What can you expect? It’s been 17 years.

They were everywhere. Their cricket-like calls filled the air as they sang their mating song. There were so many that the songs joined together in chorus and became a deafening drone. The hotter the day, the louder the song. They become so loud at the peak of the season that you can hear them inside with the doors and windows closed.

They claimed residence in the trees. Leaves are alive with the crawling bugs, which means you need to stay away from trees. I found this out the hard way when I walked too close to a low hanging limb and was buzzed by dozens of the critters.

They are suppose to be harmless to people. They do not sting or bite and supposedly do not carry any sort of disease. Still, who wants to be harassed by flying roaches?

Actually, I heard that they are crustaceans, which means they are of the same family as shrimp or lobsters. That’s all we need, flying shrimp. Personally, I like my shrimp in the water until time to go to the restaurant.

Yes, a few crazy people actually cook and eat them – more for the publicity than anything else, I think. They may eat bugs in Africa or China, but I’ll pass on that delicacy, thank you.

The air becomes thick with swarms of insects crashing into windshields. The Interstate is cicada alley. The side of the road is littered with cicada bodies, victims of previous accidents. It is impossible to keep them outside. Cicadas get inside your car and wreak havoc while you are driving.

I screamed the first time I saw one on my kitchen floor. Soon it became the norm. You simply swat them with a fly swatter and sweep them up. They even come down the chimney.

They seem to attack you outside. I don’t know if it is deliberate or if they just don’t watch where they are flying. One day a large bug dive-bombed right into my face.

Just when you think you can’t stand it any longer, the season is over. The amorous bugs have had their fun and each female will lay about 500 eggs. Next time could be worse.

Bigger and better plagues may be coming soon. The 13 year brood will come in 2024. In the meantime, I can say, “See ya later, cicada.”

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss
Updated 2021

Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

How to Become a Victim of Financial Fraud

Posted on June 22, 2021 by Sheila Moss


There are ways to assure that your credit card numbers — or even your identity — will go to thieves who will download porn movies, and make 900 calls with your credit card. If you are really lucky, you might even have your identify stolen and credit opened up with items charged that you have never heard of. Imagine getting a bill for a flat screen TV or new computer that you didn’t buy, or having your bank account cleaned out via an ATM.

Want to know how you too can become a victim?

Here are a few ways to guarantee that your information goes straight to scammers, spoofers and phishing artists who will probably sell your credit card number it before you know it’s gone.

When someone calls on the phone from an unidentified number and asks for a charitable donation, go ahead and give them your credit card number and help out them out. It’s for a good cause, and they sound okay.

Write your PIN number on the back of your ATM and debit card. How else can you remember it? Besides you are not going to lose your card, are you?

Don’t worry about mail piling up in the box while you are traveling. It is too inconvenient to go to the post office to have it stopped and then go again when you get back to pick up the mail. No one will steal your mail out of the box.

If unsolicited credit card offers come in the mail, just throw them away. No one would bother with getting a new credit card in your name. Who has that kind of time? You don’t even have the time to opt out of receiving these offers.

Shredding documents before you put them in the trash is another big time waster. Who would go through garbage to look for your bank account number? It’s full of coffee grounds, and kitty litter! If that isn’t insurance enough, what is?

Don’t worry about keeping an eye on your bank and credit card accounts online. As long as your charges go through and your checks don’t bounce, everything is fine. You can’t obsess over every item and some of those charges are hard to figure out anyhow.

If you get email notices that there is suspicious activity on an account, just click the link in the email and sign in with your password to check it out. It takes you to the bank’s website, doesn’t it? If you call them, you will be on hold for 30 minutes.

Never call law enforcement or your bank unless you are absolutely certain something is going on with an account. The police will think you are paranoid and you will make a fool of yourself over nothing. Just watch and see if any more suspicious charges come up.

Don’t worry about buying gas at the pump or using your card at a drive-through restaurant. It is very unlikely that a reader has been attached undetected and is collecting the numbers of everyone that uses the scanner. You are safe as long as you don’t see anything suspicious.

Finally, if all of these suggestions are just too difficult and you simply can’t wait to become a victim of fraud, post your credit card numbers, social security number and other personal information on Facebook or Twitter. That should do it.

Remember, anyone can be the victim of financial fraud. You could be a victim even if you are careful and don’t make any of the obvious mistakes. Criminals are thinking up new and creative ways to steal your money every day.

Of course, if you don’t want to be a victim, and want to keep your money for your own needs, don’t do any of this stuff. Thieves know enough ways to steal from you. Don’t help them out.


Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss


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