From Your Valentine

pink

Why is it that we take everything that is good and try our best to turn it into something that is marketable? Take Valentine’s Day for instance. Somehow, just saying, “I love you” isn’t enough any more.

All of the hoopla started, according to legend, when St. Valentine, who was in jail at the time for marrying couples against the orders of the Roman Emperor, sent a letter to the jailer’s daughter before he was executed and signed it, “From Your Valentine.”

That supposedly started the custom of sending hand written greetings of affection, which soon led to cards with romantic poems to say what people were unable to say for themselves. The cards were called Valentines (of all things). Cards were not such a bad thing since a lot of people seem to be too embarrassed to actually say how they feel and need a poet to say it for them.

Valentines soon became more and more elaborate and were sold commercially, decorated with lace and ribbons and accompanied by flowers. When the chocolate and candy industry began to flourish with the discovery of a process for mass-producing milk chocolate, a marketing strategy associated chocolates with Valentines and packaged them in a heart-shaped box. Needless to say, the gimmick was a wild success.

Soon other commercial interests were getting in on the day. Jewelers urged you to purchase diamonds to symbolize love and purity and tried to extend the association with marriage into Valentine’s Day. Wine, perfume, lotions, scented candles, soaps, just about anything that can remotely be associated with romance, was suddenly on the market.

Department stores have racks of red sleepwear and lingerie is displayed prominently. Bakeries push sweets for your sweetheart with Valentine cupcakes and heart shaped cookies. Discount stores bloom with heart-shaped red balloons. Supermarkets, drug stores, and specialty stores all get in on the action.

Wedding chapels do a booming business in couples that want to tie the knot and say “I do” on this most romantic of days. Florists sell more flowers for Valentine’s than at any other time. One third of all roses are sold on Valentine’s Day, mostly red, and more cards are sold for Valentine’s Day than at any other time of the year except Christmas — and that isn’t even counting packaged cards exchanged by children.

So what does all this have to do with love? It seems to have more to do with merchants convincing us that we have to buy, buy, buy and not to buy is not to love. We must express our sentiment with a gift.

So, who doesn’t like flowers, cards, and candy? Not many. But don’t let the frenzy of commercialization replace what Valentine’s Day is supposed to be, the simple expression of affection for one person for another. Give gifts if you want to, or accept them for the intentions of the giver. But be sure to remember to say, “I love you.”

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go buy some red balloons for my grandkids and a card for my honey before all the good ones are gone.

Copyright 2007 Sheila Moss
Posted in Holidays, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

The Uncouth Tooth

I don’t know what it is with me and tooth problems lately. I’ve made about six trips to the dentist office in the last few weeks. I spend more time there than the dentist does. Pretty soon I am going to ask for a designated parking space.

It all started when I had my teeth cleaned. I always have my six month checkup so I won’t have any dental emergencies. Apparently, you can still have emergencies, regular checkups or not. Life is not fair.

I’ve already told you about the abscessed tooth that couldn’t be saved and how I had to have it pulled, so I won’t go into it again. Suffice it to say, it was grueling and unpleasant. How could having a tooth pulled be anything else? They are still trying to patch the holes I kicked in the ceiling.

The problem is it kept on hurting even after the tooth was gone. I thought if I gave it enough time, it would be okay. It wasn’t. Having a tooth ache when the tooth is gone doesn’t make sense, but you can only fix a toothache with salt water and ice packs for so long. Finally, I decided I needed to go back.

Maybe he pulled the wrong tooth or maybe it was infected?

Everyone hates going to the dentist. It must give them an inferiority complex to be so disliked. I told my dentist after the tooth pulling trip that I didn’t want to see him again for a long time. I thought I was joking, but that must have been the curse.

When you are in enough pain, however, the dentist begins to look better and better. And by the time I went back for the second round, the dentist remarkably resembled Robert Redford. Dr. Redford diagnosed my condition as a “dry socket,” whatever that is. I believe it is another word for torture.

I found out later that this is what happens when an extraction doesn’t heal right and leaves the bone exposed. Did I mention that this story was going to be gross? If not, stop reading because it is all downhill from here. How can it be anything else?

After being stabbed in the jaw with his infamous foot-long needle, I thought I would be numb and not hurt. That was the theory. But the reality is that stabbing raw nerves with an ice pick feels like being struck in the mouth by lightning — over and over. Whoever says lightning does not strike more than once has not been to Dr. Redford.

I left with the usual mouthful of gauze, a packing in what used to be my tooth, and an appointment card to come back the next day. I really hated having Robert Redford see me with no makeup, a speech impediment, and salvia dripping off my chin.

“Don’t worry,” he said, “We won’t have to go through all the numbing and scraping next time.” That was not reassuring. If it felt like a hornet attack even with the numbing meds, what would it feel like without any?

I went home to 24 hours of pill-popping misery, and then returned the next day — and again the next — for more sadistic treatments. He must have thought that I enjoy pain since he continued to have me come back for more.

By the third trip however, my sore jaw was beginning to feel a bit better. Robert Redford morphed back into Bob Newhart, looking strangely like my dentist used to look before the recent dental problems. That was the end of that infatuation.

I have no idea what sort of money all this personal attention is going to cost, but I’m sure I will hear from Dr. Newhart’s billing service. I only hope when he is on the cruise, he will remember who is paying for it and be more gentle in the future.

I’m telling you one thing, no more checkups for me if this is what happens afterwards.



Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss

Posted in Humor | 2 Comments

Severe Winter Weather Bulletin


As Issued by The National Weather Service


… LIGHT SNOW TODAY THEN AN ARCTIC BLAST LATE TONIGHT… AN ARTIC BLAST IS SIMILAR TO SONIC BLAST BUT DOES NOT COME IN FOUR FLAVORS… GET YOUR MAGNIFYING GLASS READY TO LOOK FOR A SNOWFLAKE…OR TWO.

AN ARCTIC COLD FRONT IN MISSOURI IS PUSHING SOUTHEASTWARD… MISSOURI IS NOT IN THE ARTIC… BUT COLD FRONTS DO NOT WORRY ABOUT SUCH MINOR DETAILS… LIGHT SNOW AHEAD OF THE COLD FRONT HAS BEEN REPORTED BY SNOWBIRD AND THE TV WEATHER CHANNEL WHERE WE GET OUR BEST INFORMATION…AS WELL AS BY SEVERAL SCHOOL BUS DRIVERS WHO WANT THE DAY OFF…

TEMPERATURES BEHIND THE ARCTIC FRONT HAVE DROPPED INTO THE SINGLE DIGITS LOCALLY… AS THE COLD AIR MOVES IN…TEMPERATURES WILL DROP TO AROUND -5 DEGREES BY TOMORROW NIGHT… DO NOT ATTEMPT TO GO ICE SKATING UNTIL THE ICE IS MUCH THICKER… WE TRIED IT AND LOST A TV WEATHER PERSON EARLIER TODAY…

THE BITTER COLD WILL CONTINUE THROUGH THE WEEKEND BEFORE A GRADUAL WARMUP… WE KNOW THE COLD IS BITTER BECAUSE A WEATHERMAN CAUGHT SNOWFLAKES ON HIS TONGUE TO TEST IT… RESIDENTS SHOULD TAKE PRECAUTIONS TO PROTECT LIFE AND PROPERTY FROM THE BITTER COLD…UNLESS YOU NEED A DEAD BATTERY IN YOUR CAR AS AN EXCUSE TO TAKE OFF FROM WORK…

THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAS ISSUED A WIND CHILL ADVISORY… WHICH IS IN EFFECT FROM 6 AM TODAY UNTIL 6 AM TOMORROW. IF YOU HURRY… YOU WILL STILL HAVE TIME TO MAKE IT TO KROGERS FOR BREAD AND MILK… A WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY REMAINS IN EFFECT UNTIL TOMORROW OR UNTIL THE WEATHER SERVICE GIVES UP ALL HOPE… WHICHEVER COMES FIRST…

* TIMING… SNOW ACCUMULATION EXPECTED THROUGH MID AFTERNOON… MAY WE SUGGEST CARRYING A SNOW BRUSH AND ICE SCRAPER AS THERE IS ALWAYS THE POSSIBILITY THAT WE COULD BE RIGHT FOR A CHANGE…

* MAIN IMPACT… ONE INCH SNOWFALL EXPECTED… TRAVEL PROBLEMS AND DELAYS CAN BE EXPECTED ACROSS THE MID STATE SINCE SOUTHERNERS HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DRIVE IN SNOW…WHETHER THERE IS ONE INCH OR SIX…

* OTHER IMPACTS… SINCE WE HAD TO BACK DOWN ON THE SIX INCHES OF SNOW PREDICTED EARLIER (DRAT IT) WE ARE HAPPY TO HAVE SOMETHING ELSE TO RANT ABOUT… WIND CHILL VALUES TONIGHT WILL FALL TO FIVE DEGREES BELOW ZERO… THAT IS *FREEZE YOUR BUNS OFF* COLD…IN CASE YOU DONT KNOW… WIND CHILL ADVISORY IS IN EFFECT NOW… SO IF YOU HAVE ANY PLANS CANCEL THEM AND MAKE A POT OF FIVE ALARM CHILI INSTEAD…

PRECAUTIONARY/PREPAREDNESS ACTIONS…

A WINTER WEATHER ADVISORY MEANS THAT PERIODS OF SNOW WILL CAUSE TRAVEL DIFFICULTIES… BE PREPARED FOR SLIPPERY ROADS AND LIMITED VISIBILITIES… AND USE CAUTION WHILE DRIVING… IF YOU ARE INCAPABLE OF USING CAUTION… STAY OUT OF THE WAY OF THE OTHER DRIVERS WHO PROBABLY CANNOT USE CAUTION EITHER…

A WIND CHILL ADVISORY MEANS THAT VERY COLD AIR AND STRONG WINDS WILL COMBINE TO GENERATE LOW WIND CHILLS… WIND CHILL IS DIFFERENT THAN TEMPERATURE… SO DONT GET MIXED UP ABOUT IT… WIND CHILL WILL RESULT IN FROST BITE AND LEAD TO HYPOTHERMIA IF PRECAUTIONS ARE NOT TAKEN… THIS MEANS STAY INSIDE… IF YOU MUST VENTURE OUTDOORS…MAKE SURE YOU WEAR A HAT AND GLOVES… ALSO WEAR CLEAN UNDERWEAR IN CASE YOU ARE IN AN ACCIDENT AND HAVE TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL.. (OUR MOTHER MADE US SAY THIS…)

THANK YOU FOR READING THIS SEVERE WEATHER ADVISORY FROM THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE…WE ARE SORRY THAT WEATHER PEOPLE DO NOT KNOW HOW TO USE THE SHIFT KEY AND MUST WRITE IN ALL CAPS… IF IT IS SNOWING WHERE YOU ARE…SEND IN A PICTURE SO WE WILL KNOW WHAT TO PREDICT IN OUR NEXT WEATHER ADVISORY…


Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss

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

Without a Leg to Stand On

Hospitals, I hate ’em. I was an unwilling victim who held off as long as possible. But, my knees were giving out fast. My doctor had advised me years ago that I needed a knee replacement surgery. But as long as I could walk, why do anything so radical?

Finally, however, about 10 years ago, I got to point where I knew I had no choice. Every step was painful and I had already resorted to using a cane to be sure I didn’t take a tumble. How could I do my work, keep house, travel, shop when I was so limited?

Well, at least it is fixable, I thought. So, I granted my orthopedic surgeon his wish and consented to surgery.

“Which one do you want to have done first?” he asked. He advised me to do one and then in six months to do the other. Two surgeries? I don’t think so.

“I want them both done first,” I replied.

“Both? That’s really hard,” he replied. “You won’t have a leg to stand on.” (Doctors do not make very good jokes.)

Any surgery is hard, I figured. I’d rather do it in one giant swoop of pain and get it over with. Besides, I have things to do, places to go. I can’t be laid up twice.

So, I talked him into it, telling him that I would go to a rehab hospital after the surgery was over.

Somehow, I expected the surgery to caused very little pain and that I would be back to normal in a matter of weeks.

So, on the scheduled morning, I reported to admissions for duty. They sped me into the operating room so fast that they hardly had time to get the IV started. They didn’t really need to worry. I was not going to change my mind at that point.

What followed can only be described as a blur of pain and nurses between naps. They say the mind forgets what it does not want to remember. It must be true. I only remember that I had to stand up the next day on the flaming sticks that used to be my legs.

After three days, the doctor said I was being released to rehab. Released? I could not possibly get in the car and go to another hospital. I guess they were smarter than I thought as paramedics arrived and took me in an ambulance.

So, I spent 10 glorious days in a rehabilitation hospital where they put me through hours of rehab, doing exercises in a gym-like therapy room that I called the torture chamber.

The rest of the time I spent sobbing and begging for pain meds. Finally, the rehab doctor had mercy and upped my meds to control the pain better. I was pretty loopy most of the time after that, but managed to learn to wheel myself up and down the halls of the hospital pretty fast, especially when the nurse was chasing me with a dose of milk of magnesia.

Eventually, I learned to use my flaming legs and was released to go home — home sweet home. I was still laid up for several weeks in bed.

When I went back to my regular GP for a follow up, he was not pleased with all the drugs I was taking and cut me back drastically. So much for my drug-laced dreams.

I have two ugly scars and a mind full of painful memories, but it’s over. I’m now a bionic woman with knees that can set off metal detectors from 50 feet away.

Whatever happened to those visions of flowers, cards and looking cute in pretty nightgowns? It was nothing like that, I’m here to tell you. In fact, the only good thing about it is getting it over and moving on with life.

It’s good to be back in the land of the living.

Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss

Posted in Health, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

The Dog Ate Saran Wrap

Gizmo is really a good dog most of the time. He’s a 15 years old Sheltie who long ago outlived most of the other dogs of his breed. He spends most of his days napping and dreaming. His arthritis prevents much running and playing, and we don’t think he hears or sees too well either.

Here lately, he really has us worried as he won’t eat. He just doesn’t seem to like his dog food any more. People food is another story. He is the world’s biggest moocher when anyone is trying to eat. But the vet said, “No people food,” as it isn’t good for him.

The other day I was fixing dinner. I warmed up some corn on the cob in the microwave by wrapping it in plastic wrap. When I unwrapped it, the wrap accidentally fell on the floor. The moocher is always around when there is food present. Before I could pick it up, he grabbed it.

I tried to get it away from him, but he ran. I yelled for my honey to stop him, but before he could tackle him and pry open his mouth, the plastic wrap was gone. The dog swallowed it.

Oh, no! What to do? The dog ate Saran Wrap. I couldn’t believe it! He will not eat his dog food but he will eat Saran Wrap? The corn didn’t even have butter on it.

Fortunately, he had an appointment at the vet the next day anyhow. He seemed perfectly fine and a little proud of himself for fooling people and mooching something he wasn’t supposed to have.

We Goggled “Dog ate Saran Wrap” on the Internet to see how dangerous it was. Surprisingly, he is not the only dog that has a taste for plastic. A lot of dogs apparently do this. Usually, however, the plastic is wrapped around food like fried chicken, and the plastic is simply incidental to the snack.

We seem to have the only dog that eats plastic wrap by itself, without butter.

Basically, there are three things that can happen, none of them pleasant to talk about. But since we are this far in the story, I might as well tell you. The dog can throw it up, it can pass through, or it can wad up and cause a blockage that has to be removed surgically.

“Watch the dog to see if it acts sick or lethargic,” advised the Internet. Oh great, this dog always acts that way. At his age, he is not exactly a bundle of energy. I felt really bad. Giz had made through thick and thin to live to a ripe old age and now I had probably killed him by letting him eat plastic wrap.

Apparently, Saran Wrap didn’t agree with the dog because by the next morning, he coughed it up and the crisis was over. Thank goodness. At his age we were not sure if he could go through a surgery.

My daughter took him to the veterinarian the next day and told him what had happened. The vet normally would not laugh at something so potentially serious, but since things were okay now, he could see the humor. He could not understand why a dog would eat Saran Wrap and turn up his nose at dog food either.

Anyhow, there is a happy ending. The vet prescribed a special food that is for dogs that have been sick. It is high calorie and palatable. The dog loves it and gobbles it down as if it is people food. In fact, when we give it to him, we have to stand guard as the cats come around and try to eat it too.

Now when he mooches, we just give him his own special food and he thinks he is getting a treat — one even better than Saran Wrap.

Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss



Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

Happy Online New Year


This is the time of the year when people make New Year’s Resolutions, resolving to change all things wrong in life and turn over a new leaf — to stop smoking, to lose weight, to clean closets, watch less television and remember to walk the dog. Within a month, according to studies, all of the resolutions have been broken.

So, I decided not to resolve to do things that I can’t or won’t do. Instead of spending LESS time on the computer, I decided to resolve to spend MORE time on the computer than I do now. While this may seem easy to some, it might be more difficult than it appears. After all, I have to sleep sometime.

It is true that my behind is already beginning to spread from spending so much time sitting on it in front of the flashing screen. But look at it this way, for all the behind-numbing time I spend online, my mind is also expanding — reading news, searching for information, being educated. Never mind the time I spend on Facebook.

I could take up computer games. That is something I don’t do now as games use up too much time unproductively. But many people seem to find a lot of pleasure and entertainment with computer games. Of course, games will be difficult to fit into my already overcrowded online schedule.

Unfortunately, I’m hooked on eBay and love to buy from Amazon. Ah, the stories I could tell about the bargains I’ve found, the free postage, the great deals — also, the money and time I’ve wasted that I’d rather not think about.

Let me think. I’m keeping up three blogs. This is probably the reason for most of the time I’m spending in cyber space. But, “If you want something done, ask a busy person,” they say. If I had a couple more blogs to keep up, this would be a perfectly rational reason for spending time on the computer.

Unfortunately, there are still a few things that you can’t do while sitting in front of the flat screen. There is grocery shopping, cooking and the occasional house cleaning that must be done. It can be hard to take time away from the ever-waiting computer for the necessities of life.

I’ve found that an iPhone is immensely helpful for sneaking in computer time when you are in a car, in line at the grocery store, or while waiting at the doctor’s office. People used to be on cell phones talking to friends during down time or while shopping or driving. Now, with smart phones, they are checking email or surfing the net.

Now that I think of it, I don’t know how much more time I can spend online than I do already. I go to bed late because I have to finish one more blog. I get up early to check email. I eat in front of the computer instead of in front of the television like the rest of the world.

I spend weekends and holidays surfing the net or reading about what my online friends are doing, and what they are saying on Twitter. I never find out about anything new from television or newspapers anymore. I find out because it is on Microsoft’s homepage. I can’t remember what the inside of a library looks like. Why go to a library to do research when there is Google?

I read (online) that Facebook is now the most popular website on the internet, which tells me I am not the only one spending more time on the net than ever before. Apparently, a lot of people are making the same resolution as mine.

I would like to go take a nap now, but I’m willing to stay online a bit longer, not because I’m addicted to the internet but only to keep my New Year’s resolution.

Copyright 2011 Sheila Moss

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

The Dental Emergency

“Ouch,” I screamed. I had just fixed myself a nice bowl of breakfast cereal, but when I bit down on it, a bolt of lightning shot through my mouth. It can’t be my tooth, I thought, I was just at the dentist for a checkup this week. It’s probably a sore place on my gum from the cleaning.

By the next day, it was clear something was going on. Every time I tried to chew, blue thunder crashed and bolts of electricity shot out my ears. It couldn’t be that bad, I consoled myself, or they would have found it when I had the checkup. I’ll call the dentist Monday.

By Monday morning it was clear I was not going to the office. Mt. St. Helen’s had erupted in my mouth, and molten lava was pouring into my sinuses. Please, not another $5000 root canal. I have better things to do with my money than send the dentist on another vacation to Hawaii.

I called for an emergency appointment and he could work me in that morning. I’m probably his favorite patient, I thought. I should have a designated parking place as often as I seem to empty my bank account there.

“What seems to be the problem?” he purred when I arrived, as I held tightly onto my purse so he couldn’t snatch it. “The problem is the $5000 you are going to charge me,” I thought, but what I said was, “I think it might be abscessed.”

After taking x-rays, and picking and prodding in my sore mouth like a miner hunting gold, the dentist scrapped me off the ceiling and told me the good news.”The tooth already has a root canal.” Then he told me the bad news. “I don’t think it can be saved. We might as well make our plans to get it pulled.”

It can’t be saved? It can always be saved. Even if it is only a cavity attached to a dead root, they always want to save it. Apparently, he doesn’t want to vacation in Hawaii again this year.

So, he put me on drugs and gave me an appointment to come back for a major torture session. I could hardly wait. I tried to fix it myself by brushing, flossing, rinsing, and using dental gel, but it was too late.

On Thursday I showed up for the assault of Genghis Khan. “Good morning,” said the nurse. Did she have to be so cheerful? “Good morning,” said the dentist, tripping me with his leg before I could get out the door and flipping me into the chair with an amazing judo move.

Then he pulled out a needle the size of a jackhammer and proceeded to shoot my gums with Novocain. After I came to, he asked how I was feeling. “Otay, I tink,” I mumbled as the dental assistant wet vacuumed the slobber off my chin. “Okay, for a person whose face is now a stone statue,” I thought.

Then he attacked me from behind with a pair of pliers. “You might feel some pressure, he said, as he put me into a full hammer lock and latched down on my jaw. I heard a horrible cracking sound, and knew my jaw bone was broken. Call 911! I’m going to die. Bottle rockets went off and beautiful fireworks exploded right there in the dentist office. Amazing, I thought, as I watched my spirit float out of my body.

The dentist said, “That’s it. We’re done.”

“That’s it? I’m alive? I can’t believe it. Let me out of here,” I thought, as I wondered how far the jump was from the window. I ran from the office with a hole the size of Crater Lake where my aching tooth used to be and a mouth full of gauze. “Dood dye,” I said, “Tanks.”

I locked the door to my car as I left. A swat team could not have stopped my escape. “I’m still numb,” I thought, “I can’t feel the bullets if they shoot. I’m invincible.” If only I could make it home before passing out.

Then I remembered, I forgot to ask for the tooth. Maybe if I write a nice note for the tooth fairy on the back of the bill and leave it under my pillow, she will understand.

Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss

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

A Cool Grandma

I am cool, ya’ll. Yes, I may be a grandma, and I may have bad knees, but I am still cool, especially when I drive my Corvette. When you drive a sports car, everybody notices you, and everybody thinks you are cool. Why else would you drive a Corvette?

Youngsters try to challenge you and want to pass or speed by a Corvette. I just keep my cool. If they think they can really take a car that can go 140 mph, let ’em dream. I’m so cool that I don’t even care.

Life in the fast lane is a strange thing when you are a grandma, though. Passing motorists can’t really see you well enough to know that you are a granny off her rocker. So they just look at the car and think if the car is cool, you are too.

Truck drivers honk, or make that sound with their air brakes. What can I do? Get a license plate that says granny? Now that would not be cool. So I just let ’em think that I am actually impressed by tractor-trailers. Don’t want them to believe I’m not cool.

Those bucket seats are sort of getting hard for a grandma with bad knees to get in and out of. I thought of trading it in. The car is getting a little old now. Guess we have a lot in common. But we are both still cool.

The car still looks good and runs good and is paid for, so why trade it? I was younger when I bought the car brand new. Maybe it was one of those midlife crisis things. Of course, I’ll continue to deny that and declare that I bought it because it was cool.

I hate it when I drive to Walmart and can’t find a Corvette parking place. Corvette parking places are at the end of the row, preferably in front where everyone can see you. But Walmart is about as uncool as you can get anyhow. So I don’t worry about it as long as I can find a place where other cars won’t ping it with their doors.

The coolest places to go are those that have valet parking. Valets know that Vettes are cool. They always park it in front of the restaurant or the hotel where it can be seen. They want everyone to know that that they cater to cool customers.

I guess they are surprised when a granny comes crawling out of the car. Actually, I don’t get valet parking as often anymore. I have an image to maintain. I might not look cool getting out with my bad knees and walking cane. I usually get out of it inside the garage, where no one can tell if I’m not looking cool.

My grandkids think I’m about the coolest granny they could possibly have and always want to ride with grandma in her car. Yep, kids know a cool car when they see one. “My grandma drives a race car,” I heard my grandson say once.

So far I can still get in and out and drive it without looking too much like an old fogy. As long as we both hold up and don’t show our age too much, I guess I’ll keep on driving it, even if the only places I have to go are Walmart and the Sonic drive-in.

The cops try to pull over Corvettes for speeding. We’re a target. Guess snagging a Vette gives them bragging rights. The other day I got pulled over for running a red light. (The darn thing was yellow and I didn’t have time to stop, at least in my opinion.) When the cop looked at my license and saw how old I was, he let me go. “You drive careful, mam, and go straight home,” he said.

If ya’ll see a silver streak going down I-24 in the fast lane, that will be me. Go ahead and wave — you know you want to. I’ll wave back because I know what you are thinking. Look at that cool car!

I may be a grandma and I may have bad knees, but I’m still cool, ya’ll.

Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss




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

Rubber Bands Fad


Not too long ago, a fad among the elementary school set was — would you believe — the rubber band. Now the rubber bands they were going gaga over are not the ordinary brownish ones that probably come to mind when you think rubber band — or even the pretty red and green ones that you sometime see. These were colorful rubber bands, but what made them special was their shape. They were shaped like chickens, ducks, dinosaurs, elephants or just about any other animal or object you can think of.

I was first introduced to them when my grandson came in with a few of them. It seems the kids at school were going nuts over farm and zoo shaped rubber bands. When I asked “Why?,” the answer was “Why not?” They were cute, cheap, and best of all, “When you stretch them, they return to the original animal shape.” Of course, that made perfect sense, at least to a child.

It seems that the kids took them to school, traded with friends for harder to find rubber bands, and wore them on their wrist or arm. My grandson wanted more of these miraculous rubber bands. We couldn’t find them locally and resorted to ordering them on the internet. He spent half of his birthday money to order several batches and couldn’t wait until the big brown truck arrived with them.

Now, I never thought I would be party to such foolishness as collecting animal shaped rubber bands. But then I remembered Beanie Babies. Remember how we chased all over town to find the one Beanie Baby that was in high demand? Where are Beanie Babies now? Forgotten in the bottom of a dresser drawer? That’s where mine are, I think.

Anyhow, the lowly rubber band came into its own. Remember when every newspaper was secured with a rubber band before it was delivered to your home? Now they come in plastic bags. Or how strawberries came in plastic crates covered by cellophane secured with a rubber band? Now they come in plastic boxes. You may still find your celery or broccoli secured with a rubber band, but the rubber band has become what is called a “mature product,” meaning the demand for them is not increasing.

Almost everyone has a few rubber bands around a door knob or stashed in a kitchen drawer with the scissors and paperclips. Any office worker can find a few rubber bands in the desk drawer, so handy for holding together a pile of file folders or a stack of letters. In fact, rubber bands are so useful for letters that the Post Office is said to be the largest user of this handy item. It was the Post Office that came up with the idea for coloring them red due to postal workers dropping them and forgetting to pick them up.

The history of rubber bands is almost as old as the history of rubber itself, which goes back to the time of Columbus who discovered it being used by Mayan Indians. After the Europeans found out about rubber, it wasn’t too long before the sticky substance was vulcanized into a useful product when Goodyear accidentally mixed rubber with sulfur by leaving it on a hot stove and forgetting it. Fortunate for him that rubber was not explosive when mixed with sulfur or we would be driving cars with wooden wheels now.

Anyhow, all is well that ends well. Along with the dozens of other rubber products, someone invented rubber bands by covering a hollow tube with rubber and then cutting the rubber into strips. Now we have thick and thin, long and short, plain and colorful rubber bands for any use you can think of — even for kids to collect, trade, and wear on their arms. New shapes are coming out all the while: cars, flowers, hearts, anything you can think of. The more unusual the shape, the more in demand it is.

It seems to me that I recall rubber bands being used for slingshots to shoot paper wads when I was a kid. I’m certainly not going to mention that to my grandson. Obviously, times have changed and I don’t want him to come up with any new (old) ideas to get in trouble with.

But rubber bands? Who could imagine that rubber bands would ever be a fad?

Copyright 2010 Sheila Moss

Posted in Crafts/Hobbies, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Vacation from Work

This time of the year reminds me of my working days and how I always looked forward to a few extra days off around Christmas.

“Are you taking off next week?” asked my co-worker.  We had two days off for the Christmas holiday, so a lot of people were taking the other three days also, a good way to get a week off without using up your leave. I had already asked off for Monday.

“Well, I planned to work on Thursday and Friday, but I would like to get some rest.” I had not had a vacation in ages and I needed some down time. Counting the weekends, I would get nine days off. I should be able to get a lot of rest in nine days.

That Saturday, my first day off, I decided that I needed to clean the house. It was filthy. I had some remodeling done, and there was sawdust everywhere. It took an entire day just to run the vacuum and clean up the mess. And Christmas was coming soon!

On Sunday, We decided to unpack and put back all the things that we had moved out of the worker’s way: lamps, pictures, knickknacks.  A good idea, and as long as everything is off the furniture, I might as well polish the wood.

Monday, the day before Christmas Eve – I wanted the house to be somewhat normal for Christmas, so I polished my silver and copper items, a job I hate, washed glass items, and put back everything the way it should be. Sure looked nice. After two solid days of housecleaning, I was pooped.

Christmas Eve already – I needed to go to the grocery store or we would not have anything to eat. The store was packed. Well, what did I expect? I thought I would get a sliced ham so I would not have to do too much. Of course, I had to fix my famous green Jello salad and a few other side dishes. Gee, I was worn out from cooking and cleaning and the next day was Christmas.

Christmas Day – Grandkids were there. Presents were opened and wrapping paper thrown all over the place. I cleaned up all the mess and put the food out. Everyone ate, and I cleaned up that mess. I didn’t want to do house cleaning on Christmas, so I left it for the next day and tried to enjoy Christmas.

Thursday – The guy was coming to install my new dishwasher. Did I mention my old one died and I had been washing dishes the old-fashioned way? Direct TV was also coming. The TV was on the blink. The laundry was meeting me in the hallway, so I had to do that. I thought I was supposed to be getting some rest?

Friday – Things started out well, except there were so many little things left that I needed to get done while I was off and had time. I made a list: Paint bathroom door, vacuum tops of cabinets (I didn’t get to that before) Work on door to attic that is sticking, and the door on my computer desk had fallen off. I tried, honestly, but this is stuff for a handyman, not me.

Saturday – I had to go to work next week, which meant I needed to go to the grocery store again to get food for lunches. I also needed to go to the drug store and to Walmart to return that mini-blind that didn’t fit. As long as the line for returns was, I wondered if I should just throw it away and get a new one.

Sunday – I needed to get rid of the Christmas decorations. I needed to press and hang up the clothes I got for Christmas. I hadn’t had time to try things on yet and they were still in the boxes. Tomorrow it was back to the office.

Monday – Gee, the nine days sure flew by. It was good to get back to work where I could finally get some rest. Staying at home was just way too much work.

Copyright 2013 Sheila Moss

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