We All Scream for Ice Cream

icecream.jpg

A local dairy company has come up with some wonderful flavors of ice cream.  I just finished a bowl of Banana Pudding flavor.  Yes, it did taste like banana pudding, and  I love banana pudding.  It is ice cream, crunched up vanilla wafers, and a swirl of marshmallow – just like mom use to make – except cold.

My very most favorite, though,  is their orange/vanilla yogurt.  It tastes just like a Dreamcicle.  Remember Dreamcicles when you were a kid?  Ice cream coated in orange flavored icy stuff.  Gosh, they were good.  Always melted and fell off the stick if  you didn’t eat fast enough, so I learned to lick pretty fast. Wonder if they even make Dreamcicles any more?

There are all sorts of interesting flavors now:  S’mores, Turtle Tracks, and Moose Tracks are a few others.  You might be able to figure out what S’mores  is like, but  Turtle Tracks is a little more of a challenge.  You know that chocolate candy they call a ‘turtle’ with peanuts and caramel?  You got it.

But never in a million years would you figure out Moose Tracks.  I’ve never figured out the logic to it myself, but it is vanilla with big hunks of chocolate and peanut butter.  Man, I would hunt all day and almost kill for a bowl of it.  It has got to be loaded with calories, and I have to be very good to save up that many fat grams.  But, boy, is it worth it!

Funny how childhood memories seem to be associated with ice cream.  We didn’t worry about calories or fat grams in those days.  Any hot summer afternoon could be cooled down with  a chocolate covered ice cream bar on a stick.  This is another treat that was a sticky mess. The chocolate always slid off the ice cream, which melted and ran down the stick. The challenge was to trying to eat the chocolate coating before it fell off on the ground.

Like ice cream and childhood, life melts away and only the memories remain. Things were so simple when we were young and did not worry about life or death – only ice cream.

©1998 Sheila Moss

Do you have a favorite flavor of ice cream? Of course you do, everyone does.

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

Pampered Pets

catdog

I declare, it’s just getting to where you can’t trust pets anymore.  All my cat does is meow and complain.  She doesn’t like her food and plays finicky, going on a hunger strike until I offer the right food.  She doesn’t want to sleep on the floor, only the best chair in the house will do.  She doesn’t like it if I sleep late in the morning, and walks all over me until I wake up and get out of bed.  What is the world coming to when animals rule?

We spend a fortune in this country every year on pet food, and another fortune on pet care.  I remember the days when cats were cats.  They caught mice and grasshoppers and maybe got cheap cat food occasionally.  Nowadays, you have to give ‘em gourmet cat food in a crystal dish or they turn up their nose.

In the olden days, dogs ran free and slept under the front porch or in a dog house.  They might get some flea and tick powder in the summer and a rabies shot, but they ate table scraps, if there were any, and were glad to get ‘em. Then dog food production became an industry and we found out table scraps are bad for animals.

Now there are dog shows, dog groomers, dog trainers, dog toys, dog health care experts, dog nutritionists and dog stores.  We have giant pet marts that specialize in items only for pets.  The pets are even allowed to go shopping with their owners in these places.  Yes, this country has definitely gone to the dogs.

Well, all said, I must admit that I love pets.  I have both a cat and a dog at my house, and they are well cared for.  After all, it isn’t right to have an animal and neglect it or to fail to care about its needs.  But what every happened to real sand in the sandbox?  Now we have clumping litter and pooper-scoopers.

I tell you, the pets are taking over.  They even have their own websites and blogs.  Yep, it’s true.  I caught my cat walking on the keyboard just the other day.  She denied it and hid under the bed, but I’m sure she was on Facebook.

Guess I am just about as fond of my pets as everyone else.  The fact that there are so many homeless animals and so many animals being put to sleep for humane reasons seems almost unbelievable in view of the “pampered pet” class that we are familiar with.

My cat got out of hand some time ago and has been in charge around my home for a long time.  Animals seem to have a way of working themselves into our home and heart and before we even realize what is happening, they have taken over.

If you happen to run into my cat in a computer chat room, don’t tell her I’ve been complaining.  She will miss the litter box again to show her anger, and I really hate it when she does that! I’m wise to that cat, though.  I know what she is up to – it is just that there does not seem to be much I can do about it.

One of these days when you are not too busy, you might want to visit her website. No doubt about it, the pampered pet set is definitely taking over.

©1998 Sheila Moss

Admit it, how spoiled is your pet?

Posted in Creatures, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Road Rage

interstate

I live in the suburbs like millions of other Americans and commute to work daily.  Normally, I have about a 30 to 40 minute commute, depending on traffic.  Lately, due to construction on the Interstate, my commute time has become greatly increased, more like an hour a day – each way.  Spending this much time on the road, I’ve become increasingly aware of the driving behaviors of people and their seeming unwillingness to drive in a sane and reasonable manner.

Speeding, changing lanes without signals, cutting off other cars, and my pet peeve – tailgating, are common fare on the Interstates of Nashville.  It strikes me that something is terribly wrong.  Scarcely a day goes by that I don’t see at least one incident that probably should be reported to the police: an accident, a stranded motorist, a stray animal on the roadway, a huge piece of rubber tire, or potholes in the road.  Between construction, road hazards, discourteous drivers, and more cars on the road every day, it becomes increasingly frustrating and difficult to survive.

Many people are fighting this frustration with an escalated aggression that has been dubbed “road rage.”  Indeed, we have probably all seen or experienced it.  The car that tailgates to force us to change lanes, the car that cuts us off with a rapid lane change, the car that weaves in a out of traffic to stay in a lane perceived to be moving a bit faster.  No wonder we are killing ourselves and each other in record numbers – a useless loss.

Many solutions have been suggested: more law enforcement, improved roads, safer cars, drivers’ education.  Good ideas, yet, these are external solutions.  The real solution is within each of us.  We must change our attitudes toward each other and drive with a more tolerance and courtesy.  Never happen?  But look how attitude has changed toward wearing seat belts and drunk driving.  We can do better than we are doing.  We cannot wait for the other person to change first.  It has to be an individual commitment from each of us  – and it has to be soon.

Folks, we are not in the Indianapolis 500.  It does not matter who gets there first or fastest.  You think you are the only person who knows how to drive?  So give the rest of ’em a break!  Rediscover the speed limit.  If they want to pass you, let ’em.  So what?  You’ve got nothing to prove.  If you get home from work 5 or 10 minutes later, will it really matter?  So, let that truck merge in front of you.  He’s a professional driver and in this traffic all day – do a random act of kindness.  So, that stupid lady is on a cell phone and won’t get out of your way?  Empathize.  Maybe she’s worried sick about the kids at home.

Let’s not be caught up in this madness on the highways.  Sure, we’ve got to go with the flow, but we don’t have to be rude and we don’t have to become angry with others because they are so often discourteous.  It doesn’t matter.  It just doesn’t matter.  We cannot control others and we cannot change the world – but we can each change ourselves.

Give a little.  Stay alive.  Take it easy out there.  I am!

©1998 Sheila Moss

Only yesterday on the Interstate a large truck rode my bumper, way too close even though I was in the right-hand lane and doing the speed limit, 70 mph. What do you think about road rage? Have you ever been the victim — or maybe the aggressor?

Posted in Automotive, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

The Aquarium

DSCN0777Being a long weekend, it seemed a shame to waste it, so we decided to visit the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga. I was not really sure that fish would be interesting, but – what the heck – nothing else around here to do except fight the crowds at the shopping malls, and who wants to do that?

Turned out that the aquarium was a pretty nifty place. I’ve never seen so many fish in my life, all colors and sizes. The huge water tanks and large expanses of glass gave the  illusion of being underwater. The fish, were cooperatively fishy, swimming up to the glass and looking at you eyeball to eyeball. Strange feeling. They almost seemed to enjoy interaction with people. Probably they were just wondering what kind of food I was.

DSCN0781Anyhow, I was pretty cool until we came to an area called the “Delta.” Here is where the fish really became pretty. They were pink, blue, yellow – every color you can imagine! Man, I didn’t want to leave – even though I secretly figured I could be getting pretty low on oxygen from being under the water for so long. I didn’t realize that there was any place in the U.S. that had fish so colorful and exotic looking.

DSCN0785The jellyfish area was especially interesting. The jellyfish sort of swim around like small size umbrellas opening and closing gracefully. The largest collection was called “Moon Jellyfish.” They were really quite attractive. I hardly minded being mooned at all.

There were so many types and varieties that it became impossible to keep track after a while. I hung around the Russian Sturgeon tank for quite a while hoping for a donation of caviar, but I guess they were planning a party of their own later as they never obliged.

Some lizards in an above water display caught my attention. One ugly fellow looked at me from his perch on a tree branch and smiled. I think he wanted to get his picture taken. Probably working for tips. Another lizard had long claws and scurried up a tree. Boy, I’d hate to run into him in my back yard. Thank goodness, he was native to New Guinea. Remind me to never go to New Guinea.

The paddle fish were odd. They were pre-historic looking with long beak-like paddles for noses. Some of them swam with their mouths wide open, which caused the light to shine through their bodies and light up the inside of their mouth as they swam.

Also interesting were the piranha, which were attired in their party wear complete with gold glitter sprinkles. Don’t know if they remembered to brush their teeth or not, but I sure wasn’t gonna be the one to ask ‘em.

We ended up watching the fish being fed. The ducks and turtles liked this part even better than the tourists and mooched up much of the minnow and squid. Those critters seem to eat better food than we do. Hate to pick up the tab when they dine out.

So, the day at the aquarium was a great success. My fingers may be a bit wrinkled from being under water so long. But I can hardly wait to go back, probably the mental effects of oxygen deprivation.

©1998 Sheila Moss
©Photos Sheila Moss

Have you visited an aquarium? What was your favorite fish or other creature?

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Daddy’s Garage

Daddy

Ronald Crump – 1917-2013

Daddy always had an outside building of some sort.  Some men have sheds or barns, but Daddy’s private place was always a garage.  The garage was a “man place” where he could keep his tools and automotive stuff, a place to call his own away from the women in the family.

Daddy’s garage had tool benches that he made himself at some point in time so long ago that the exact date has faded into oblivion.  He kept all his tools there, hammers, saws, screwdrivers, and gadgets that I don’t even know the name of, much less how to use.  Each one had its place in the structure of his life and only he knew where it belonged.

I didn’t really understand what all these tools were for as I’ve never known of Daddy building anything much.  He just liked to “piddle,” we said. When my sister and I were kids, we would sometimes “borrow” his tools, and we always forgot to put them back where they belonged.  You would think we would have learned to be sneaky so we wouldn’t get caught, but we never did.

The walls of the garage were covered with old license plates, hubcaps, bumper stickers and yard tools.  The shelves were full of ancient dusty objects. There were piles of scrap lumber that Daddy had collected, just in case he ever did decide to build something significant. It was all pretty dreadful to a woman’s prying eyes, which is probably exactly what Daddy had in mind.

birdhouses

Some of Daddy’s birdhouses

At one time, Daddy decided to build birdhouses.  He did not stop at one or even several. He built them by the dozen and they lined the shelves on the walls of his garage.  He gave them away to family, and to people he knew and liked.

When Daddy had his heart operation, he had us take a birdhouse to the hospital to give to his favorite nurse.  I hope she appreciated it. It meant a lot at the time because we didn’t know if Daddy would ever be able to build his birdhouses again.

Daddy also built benches for a while, and we womenfolk figured out ways to use them.  I still have several of Daddy’s benches. When everyone had a bench, Daddy started making wooden boxes.  My sister added dirt to hers and planted flowers.  I have some in the attic and I’m still trying to think of a way to use them.

Daddy whittled and carved out birds and other assorted wooden objects with only his pocketknife.  This particular interest ended drastically when he cut his hand rather badly and had to go to the emergency room two times in a row.

Daddy’s favorite craft, though, was building houses for Christmas nativity scenes.  He cut sticks and built crèches from them.  He built them year round and gave them away to anyone who wanted one.  Word got around and there was actually a waiting list.

There came a time when Daddy couldn’t make it out to the garage often any more.  He grew older and walked with a walker.  He eventually had to give up driving a car.  He still went out to his garage occasionally, probably just to have time to himself in his own world and to reflect in dusty solitude.

We women could never understand Daddy’s garage, and gave up trying. There are just some things in a man’s world that are off limits and better left alone.

©2005 Sheila Moss

Did your dad have a special place like a garage, basement, workshop or man cave? What did he do there?

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Honoring Dear Old Dad

father and son

All over America, fathers will be excited because it is “their” day – Father’s Day. Right. Like they really care. Another shirt, another tie, another jewelry tray to put on their dresser?

Yeah, they are really excited. Like they actually have any jewelry, unless you count the tie tack you gave him last year for Father’s Day, the dog tags left over from military service, or the cankered cuff links that are so old that dad isn’t even sure exactly where they came from anymore.

And the worst part of it all is the fact that the adult kids will come home on Father’s Day to visit, probably bringing the grandchildren. Fathers can’t even enjoy peace and quiet on “their” day.

However, a few thoughtful kids will probably take father out to eat instead of buying him another shoe polishing kit. Food is good, especially if it is an all-you-can-eat food buffet where dad can really pig out. Of course, it will probably be crowded with all the other thoughtful families who are taking their fathers out to food bars also.

What dad would really like is probably a big screen TV or a season’s pass to the baseball game. Now that would be a gift worth receiving. Not many kids have the funds to fork over to dear old dad for that sort of gift. If they do, they probably use it to buy their own home theater system and then invite dad over to see it. Oh, well. It was a thought anyhow. That’s okay; dad still has the old reliable Zenith parked in the corner of the den and a remote control – if the grandchildren haven’t lost it yet.

Younger fathers may still enjoy Father’s Day. It is the novelty of the whole thing, the extra attention. So what if they eat out at a fast food steakhouse and the kids’ names are scribbled on the Happy Father’s Day card with a crayon?  It’s merely the fact that the kids notice that dad is around sometime other than on allowance day or the day of a little league ball game. Yes, it’s the thought that counts. After all, these moppets did not get here on their own, and it’s about time they remembered that!

If dad is lucky, they will forget all about him by afternoon. He can escape to the basement and piddle with his tools or go outside and mow the lawn. Fathers are not used to being honored. Fathers are used to being ignored. All this attention is more than a father can bear.

Kind of makes a heart proud, though. They remembered! They know where they came from! Good genes, these kids.

Wonder what a dad is suppose to do with yet another wallet? Put it in the drawer with all the other wallets? Maybe one of these years he will actually need a new wallet and when he does, he will be ready. Thanks kids, dad is overwhelmed with joy. Who knows, maybe next year they will just forget about the whole thing.

Now, where did the remote control go? Oh, no! Not again!

©2000 Sheila Moss
Posted in Family, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , | 8 Comments

Facts About Fathers

father

FACTS ABOUT FATHERS
By Sheila Moss
Humor Columnist Blog

* Never forget, if it wasn’t for your father, you wouldn’t be here.

* No matter how old you are, you are still a snotty-nose kid to your dad.

* Fathers don’t get paid for a job well done – unless you count satisfaction.

* When a father says “no,” he really means, “ask your mother.”

* What father says is law. But that’s because kids are not old enough to vote yet.

* Your father knows more about you than you think he does – but you can trust him not to tell.

* Fathers are perfect — problems are created by children

* If at first you don’t succeed, ask your father for a second chance.

* There may be several opinions, but dad’s is the only one that counts.

* When your father gets quiet, he is planning – if he is snoring, the plan worked.

* Always agree with your father. Then he cannot say “I told you so!”

* If you can’t remember when you hugged your dad, maybe he can’t either.

* Never tell father he is wrong, it will only irritate him.

* Never criticize your father’s driving unless you prefer walking.

* If you have your father’s complete approval, he is probably making a big mistake.

* You may fool mother but you can’t fool dad – he pulled the same stunts when he was a kid.

* You can’t keep anything from your father. If you can hide it, he can find it.

* Never argue with your dad. And if you do, never think you will win.

* There is no such thing as a father without radar – it’s standard equipment.

* There are always exceptions to dad’s rules, but he is the one that decides what they are.

* Experience is something your father will always have more of, and you cannot get enough of.

* Your father will forgive your mistakes, but that doesn’t mean you should repeat them.

* Fathers are the only judges that can convict without evidence.

* If you have outgrown your need for fatherly advice, be sure not to mention it to him.

* No matter what is broken, dad has a tool that can fix it or render it unfixable.

* If dad does not have an answer, he will pretend not hear the question.

* Father’s memory is always better than yours, especially when you borrow money.

* Father is the person that you can always call on – just be sure to call during halftime.

* Dad owns the remote control, but you are welcome to use the lawnmower.

* A father’s gratitude is priceless, but a big screen TV is not.

©2004 Sheila Moss
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Working at Not Working

working

Have you ever  worked in a place where nobody works?  They have jobs… they just don’t work.  How do they do it?  Somehow they have figured out a way to slide through the day, seeming busy while doing nothing and getting other people, who haven’t figured it out, to do their work and cover for them.

I think what it boils down to is:  1) nobody cares, or;  2) the people in charge are not working either.  After all, to know that the workers are not on the job, somebody has to be watching.  Everybody is so busy doing nothing and looking busy that no one notices that nothing is getting done.

The main job, when anything is done, is  answering complaints.  Complaints about what?  Well, complaints that nobody is doing anything.  If it were not for the complaints, there would be nothing to do.  Except, of course, have meetings.  Meetings that accomplish what?  Well…nothing…what else?

Some people manage to consistently come to the office at about 9 or 10 o’clock in the morning.  They slip in by the back elevator and pretend that they have been there all the time, busy at their desks.  Occasionally, they may even call to say that they are “running late” and will be in a bit late.  That means, “Don’t look for me before noon.  I stayed out late and overslept this morning.”

In the meantime, the fools that did show up answer their phones, take their messages and explain to everyone that so-and-so is “running late.”  Why doesn’t the boss notice?  Well, because these people keep up with the boss’ schedule.  Like hawks, they have a second sense that lets them know when the boss is out of town, has an early meeting elsewhere, or is “running late” too.

These people are absolutely indispensable to the organization.  They are the busiest workers they have.  Of course, they are busy.  If they came to work, they might have time to get things done.  If they do, by some quirk of fate, get noticed for not being present, they instantly come up with a project that they were “working on at home.”  It has to be something essential and absolutely impossible to work on in the office due to the interruptions.  Revising policy is popular.

Computers and telecommuting have helped non-workers tremendously.  Funny how they usually have nothing to show for all the work they’ve done at home.  They are also masters at avoiding taking leave.  They work part time, but never take any time off.  I can’t figure out how they get by with it.  Actually, they are not often missed.  They are not depended on to do much since they are never there.

It must really take practice to become good at doing nothing.  I just can’t seem to get the hang of it.  If I tried it, I would be caught the first morning.  Some of us seem doomed to work and cover for others.  It takes practice, cunning and skill to be good at not working.  I wonder sometimes if not working is really worth the trouble, or if it might be more work than just actually working.

©1998 Sheila Moss

Do you know any non-workers?  What do you do, complain to management or do your own job and let it go?

Posted in Humor, Work Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

The Silver Dynamo

Embed from Getty Images

There are many things in life that are not favorite activities. I had to do one of the things I despise most last week – buy a car. It seems as if we just went through this process not too long ago. I couldn’t believe I had to do it again.

I dislike car buying because you are expected to barter over prices. Do you ever go into a department store and offer to give them $50 for a $70 dress, or to a grocery store and offer the checkout person less than the total on the cash register?

Because I hate spending a whole day playing the car-buying game that I know I can’t win, I’ve lately been going to a dealership that sells used rental cars that have been retired from the fleet. They are only a year old, loaded with extras, and the price is the price.

Our sales person was the eager type. The minute we walked through the door he was with us in an electric flash, shaking hands and saying how glad he was that we came by. He wondered how we found them since they don’t advertise and his eyebrow twitched into a dollar sign when he found out we were repeat customers.

Then the pitch: “We keep only 5% of our cars and the rest are wholesaled out. We price them at the fair market price and there is no negotiating.” That was music to my ears, even though I already knew it and that’s why I drove to the other side of town to buy car.

“What kind of car are you interested in?” My daughter was already outside on the car lot checking out the selection. “Something for my daughter that’s economical,” I replied.

She had zeroed in on one that was similar to the one she had wiped out on the Interstate a few weeks before. The price was about right and mileage fairly low. I was ready to get the deal done.

“We have some nice Fords with remote entry,” said the salesman, “Are you interested in a Ford?” Before I could say “no” he had waltzed my daughter across the lot to a slick silver model with all the features you could load it down with.

“But the mileage is higher and it’s a year older,” I pleaded.

“I like it,” she said, already behind the wheel. Pink hearts drifted out the window.

“Would you like to drive it?” purred the evil sales person.

Of course she would. We piled into the car, and I covered my eyes while we pulled out into the busy traffic for a test spin.

“How do you like it?” I asked, as the violin music swelled and a choir of angels sang from somewhere in the unseen background. The answer was obvious.

We went back to the dealership to get the painful part over with – the part where you sign away half your paycheck for once a month and get an easy payment plan. After filling out the paperwork and signing my name so many times that I had writer’s cramp down to my ankle, the deed was finally done.

“We try to keep it as simple as possible,” said the salesman. “Was it easy?”

“Yes, too easy,” I replied truthfully.

And so my daughter has wheels again and life can get back to normal around here. But those tiny pink valentines that keep floating out the windows of her car are beginning to become annoying.

© 2005 Sheila Moss

Do you like car bargaining or would you prefer one fair price?

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Promote Your Blog Here

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