Isn't it Ironic?

Ok...Your gonna love this. So today I decided to decorate a little. I have some energy back...a little, but my intent was good. So Eric hauls in my 32 gallon containers...and there's 12 of them and sets them in different parts of the house. I decide to decorate my dining room first. On my china cabinet I decorate with a Dickens Village theme. So, I start by removing my Fall stuff and then move on to the containers. I grab an item and it slips out of my hand and lands on my foot, more to the point...my toe. Well, I just have to tell you that it hurt like a son of a #*&%@ and my toe immediately swelled up (warning: kinda gross pic coming up on a non pedicured foot...hey!, I've been preoccupied lately)






So after the crying and cussing ended, I hobbled over to the bathroom to clean it. It's not broken because I can move it and I couldn't yell for Eric because he's on the roof putting up the lights so, I hobble back to the dining room and pick up the item that was left on my hardwood floor. It's in perfect condition, no cracks, brakes and nothing lose...even the floor endured. What landed on my foot you ask....this




That's right...my Dept 56 Victoria Station. Being that my given name is Victoria I thought that was pretty ironic...but no, I guess not ironic enough because after I tended to my food and iced it I went to tell Eric of my misfortune. He immediately tells me to sit down on the porch so he could take a look at it and after realizing it wasn't broken he asked me what piece did you drop. Before we were married and while we were dating, our very first Christmas together he had bought me this piece as a gift, so when I told him he wanted to check it out. We come in the house and I show him. He can't believe it because this piece is big and heavy and he gave it to me. We laughed about my so called "Flintstone feet" and then he goes to put my Victoria Station securely in it's place on the china cabinet when apparently he miscalculated the area and hits the top of it on the under cabinet. The gold piece at the top of the roof comes flying off and now there is a large hairline crack on the back side. You see...THAT'S IRONIC!

The moral of this story....don't let you hubby handle your Christmas stuff and always and I mean always have a glue gun at the ready....Oh yeah...and wear shoes when your decorating....I'm just sayin'

The Spirit of Music...

Sitting in the waiting area of Raquel's orthodontist listening to Christmas music got me to thinking about this type of music and how it relates to me or something from my past. First of all, this happened 3 days before Thanksgiving and believe me I actually thought about leaving the office and waiting outside. Don't get me wrong, I love Christmas music... but at Christmas time....hello! It seems they start playing it earlier and earlier each year so with me, by the time Christmas gets here...I'm very over it.

Growing up in the mid 60s and beyond I basically grew up with the classics. ...you know, Nat king Cole, Tony Bennett, Frank Sinatra, Andy Williams and all the rest. Every year my parents would turn on the reel to reel tape player and we would all listen to and sometimes sing along with these famous people. Oh! the memories of some Christmas's pass. Like the time my father was chasing my mom down the hallway with mistletoe. I think of that little incident when I hear Eartha Kit's, "Santa Baby" because that was playing at the time. I can't forget Johnny Mathis, "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas"...it was my maternal grandmother's favorite and it was one of the very few times I actually heard her sing.

I have danced with Meredith and my squirrely grandsons to Jingle Bell Rock and danced like a Charlie Brown character with Raquel while listening to her Christmas tunes. As a teenager, I have managed to go Christmas caroling a few times although we never sang John and Yoko's, "Happy Christmas" being that is was that era. I have sang with girl scout troupes, horse riding clubs, old girlfriends at parties and I sing my brains out in the car. All the tunes that I put on my blog are either songs from my past growing up or songs that I either have or want. I love them all but my favorite one is, "Merry Christmas Darling" by the Carpenters. I don't know what gets into me when I hear this song but 99.9% of the time, I start to cry. I also think that the song "Let it snow" is romantic. I especially love the lyrics, "The fire is slowly dying, And, my dear, we're still good-bying"...sounds like a good make out session if you ask me...lol.

So, here's a few of my favs. Turn it up or turn it off, it's all up to you. Whether it's old and traditional and brings back memories or it's new and jazzy or even a novelty song, Christmas music just make things that much better. It brings us together in love, happiness and in spirit...and that's what counts....I'm just sayin'.

In the beginning...

This day 54 years ago I came into this world, in a bathroom, in the hospital, on Thanksgiving day.....Ok, everyone say aaahhhh.




It's my birthday!
It's my birthday!



update...
I just came back from giving myself a b-day gift. I had my face threaded...can I just say.....OOUUCCH! I could of thought of a couple less painful gifts to give myself.

Thankful but....

I know that this time of year everyone is posting about being thankful for this n that and that's how it should be, but speaking for myself I am thankful everyday for what I have or rather what I don't have...examples;

I'm thankful I have a new bedroom room set in the spare room and I'm thankful that my hubby chooses not to sleep with me and sleeps in the spare room while I recuperate.

I am thankful that my squirrely grandsons live 4 miles away from me and I'm thankful that they are way too busy to just drop in anytime.

Thankful for Diet Pepsi and equally thankful for the very small cans.

I'm thankful for Facebook and most importantly, I can get on there without people seeing me.

I am thankful for Vicodin AND very thankful for stool softener.

I am thankful for a 16 year old daughter who hates to cook and thankful for Hamburger Helper.

I am thankful for being so organized it drives my family nuts and thankful I've let that nonsense go.

I am thankful that I can give a sub. the opportunity to work for me and earn some Christmas money while I'm on leave and thankful that the vice principle called and said "hurry up and get better, we need someone to make fun of"...lol

and last but not least...

I am thankful for meeting and connecting to some wonderful blogging friends who just blow my mind with words, art and creativity....and thankful that you haven't deleted me yet!


Wishing everyone a peaceful and healthy Thanksgiving....and can't wait for all the Christmas blogs.

A picture is worth a thousand words...

I'd like to think I'm 30 something, but my kitchen counter says otherwise....



I'm just sayin'

Ying and Yang in the OR...

As I walked holding Eric's hand to my appointment to meet with my surgeon, I anticipated what he would look like and how he would act. I envisioned him to be an average white guy, kinda nerdy and not very communicative only because that's the kinda doctor I've been running into lately. We enter his office and it is very sparse with the traditional hotel looking pictures on the wall and of course that damn TV with the "Health" channel set way back in a corner. After I sign in, my behind barely touches the chair when I am called back..and off we go. We are guided to an exam room and asked a few questions by the nurse and left to silence and shouting nerves. As quickly as she left quickly the doctor comes in. Who is this guy? He's not what I imagined. First of all he is Asian, later I find out he is Japanese. I am sitting on the table and the doctor is sitting right in front of me on a chair with his legs crossed. The first thing I notice is that he is incredibility handsome. Yep, he's a looker and he's probably my husbands age...late 40's. He tells me to give him a minute while he looks over my paper work and I gesture OK because I'm too busy checking out his shoes. They were fine leather almost perfect condition shoes...very expensive. He was dressed to the nines with his grey linen pants and grey and white striped shirt that obliviously was designer ...along with his blue silk tie. He wore Gucci glasses with the best lenses in them. How do I know? I was an Optician and a frame buyer for 20 plus years...that's how I know, plus the frames had the Gucci mark on them. This doctor blew my image away. As we talked he was very patient and I could tell he was a no nonsense guy. He was very precise in his wording and very confident in what he had to do and as we parted ways he told me that I would be just fine and that he would see me later.

Fast forward to hospital minutes before surgery...

They take me from the warmth and comfort of my little hospital room to the room before surgery where it is 100 degrees below zero. It's so cold I'm shivering. One of the nurses orders someone to go get me two blankets and as they unfold the heat on my body I am lulled into a false sense of security. Up until this point I am pretty good. I haven't cried or complained and I was almost looking forward for this whole ordeal to end as it has been going on for a long time.
The nurse asks me if I would like a little something to calm me down..Well, I reply...doesn't everybody? My operation is set for 10 am and it is 9:40ish when this little guy comes strolling in, walks straight towards me with his hand extended and introduces himself. He is the anesthesiologist. He proceeds to ask me "so Victoria, were gonna get rid of your gallbladder today" and without time for me to answer he continues "Yeah, well, there are a lot of body parts we can do without right, uterus,appendix..." and as he continued, in my mind I'm thinking this is the anesthesiologist? He's twelve years old. I hear him laughing as he's setting up my IV, he is talking and caring on with the staff that is in the room, he turns and asks me "so you want something to relax?" my response...sure! Well, we can give you a little sumin' sumin', we got it all...you want the Michael Jackson special?" Ok, I'm thinking, this guy is strange and he's scaring me with the MJ reference. He tells me he'll be right back and walks into another room. I'm lying there thinking this guy is either a gangster wannabe or a mad drug scientist. Right about then my calm, professional, handsome and stable doctor walks in and ask me how I'm doing. I ask him better yet doctor "How YOU doing?" He laughs and tells me he's just fine, pats my hand and says I'll see you in about 5 minutes then walks away. Here come the twelve year old with a syringe and proceeds to put it in my IV. He asks me how ya' feeling Victoria? Across the room from me on the wall there are roughly 5 computers and I tell him the computers are getting blurry..his response, OK, let's get this party started. That's all I remember...next thing I know I'm being wheeled down a hallway to my little cozy room..did I miss the party or was I the party?

So apparently all went well with the doctors on the opposite ends of the specter. And I can't help but wonder how these two got along in the operating room. I can only imagine it now..."Oh come on doc don't be a downer..it's time to par-tay"...loosen up!

I am here...

First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for their prayers and well wishes....it all worked. I'm slower and cold most of the time now and working my way day by day to full recovery....in the meantime, this is my routine....sitting with a pile of blankets, the remote and my teddy bear. Why a teddy bear? He helps me to cough, sneeze and laugh which is an ordeal. That's it...I'm tired and I will visit you all soon and be up to blogging when I can. Love to all!

I'm taking a little break...the Gall

I will be out of commission for a few days. I am having my gallbladder removed tomorrow. I'm not really telling you this because I want sympathy...OK, maybe a little and I haven't told that many people because I don't want to hear all the horror stories...You know, like when your pregnant for the first time and everyone and their mother starts to tell you all the ugly details...kinda like that. I know it's just a human reaction to relay a gallbladder story to me and I know peoples intentions are good, but I'm a big chicken and I'd rather have my head in the sand. It's a 45 minute out patient procedure and I do like me some drugs and besides being a big chicken, it's the waiting part that gets me. Wait for the scheduling of said operation, waiting 3 weeks for the day, waiting for pre op lab testing and finally, waiting 3 hours ahead in the hospital. Don't these people know I hate to wait? I want everything done yesterday, just like everything in my life. And I don't like being under...I know, it's a control thing, I admit it, but if I'm not in control I'm out of my element. I'd like to say that this is my way of getting out of having Thanksgiving dinner at my house, but sadly no. So, there it is. I know everything will be alright but if you have a little extra room for an extra prayer, good thoughts, good karma, good mojo and warm and fuzzy thoughts...send them my way and I promise I will return shortly. Don't forget
about me and I'll write something juicy ....maybe about my surgeon...seriously, he's extremely handsome...yikes!

ps. feel free to leave a comment or email me...it's on my sidebar...tootles!

What's in a name?

The other day, my friend Yvette and I were walking out to the parking lot after work and for some reason we got on the subject of names and nicknames. She told me that family members call her Vetty and that she didn't like it. She asked them to stop calling her that, but they never did. In return, I told her that my nickname was bunny, but it was more of a real name to me and that the only people that call me Victoria were the people at work and my ex-husband and he called me Vickie. Well that was the funniest thing she had ever heard and she just laughed and laughed and said you are sooo not a bunny...you are more of a Victoria. I just shrugged my shoulders and laughed a little, hopped in my car and started the drive home.

Then I started to think... Why don't I look like a bunny, it's my name for god sakes and what does a Victoria look like? Don't most people have nicknames? Usually given from birth or childhood and probably an interpretation of the original name. The
story goes...My father used to call me Honey Bunny Bucket as an endearing term, but when my mother found out that a "honey bucket" was the actual bucket solders used to empty the out houses, it was changed to"honey bunny" and then bunny. It's fine. It was fine then and it's fine now. This name has produced some interesting reactions like...as I said before, my ex-husband refused to call me bunny because he said that bunny reminded him of a party girl (little did he know)and proceeded to call me Vickie...who was that? After being hired in a Dr. office, one of the Doctors asked me did I have any nicknames and what would I like to be called. I think he was thinking I'd say Vickie or something like that, so when I said Bunny, he turned red, giggled a little and proclaimed out loud, how am I gonna explain your name to my wife? In my mind I'm thinking, this is a doctors office right, cuz if I'm at the Hefners mansion I can't find the love grotto...give me a break! My in-laws who are Austrian and have a little trouble with the English language, could not for the life of me say my name. It used to come out Bonnie. Their better now...it only took 20 years. Children have thought I was the actual Easter bunny too..how cool is that? I have been called, bunz, bunola, grunz, grunola, bunster, bun (the most popular) bunion, bunners, bunmeister and several other over the years, all of which I don't mind..I kinda like it. And why do I like it....because it's my name. I don't mind calling you all by your nicknames....Bedgie, Leenie, meej, Cyn,Torrie, Rocky so on and so forth. If you all didn't like it, you would of told me or let it be known. Nicknames are who we are and they are where we come from and there is always a story behind it. It's what makes us unique.

When I got home , I pulled my car into the garage, shut off the engine and texted Yvette. I wrote...."Your just jealous, cuz you don't have a bitchen animal nickname...I'm just say'in!

Pick a little, talk a little....

As I was tidying up the patio this morning, I noticed the neighbors rose bush. A portion of it was hanging over the wall into our yard. I took this as an invitation and I accepted. I cut a bunch loose from the plant, cleaned it up and put it in a vase. I then set it on a coffee table in my living room which is very monochromatic with touches of red...




I think it fits very well...



Thanks Neighbor!

And while I had the inclination...I picked some lavender from my front yard too! Being that the weather here is kinda crazy, my lavender bushes will bloom on and off all year long. I pick bunches, let them dry and put them in various rooms and let their faint aroma fill the air.


Happy Picking!

I'm waiting and waiting and waiting....

So last Tuesday I had a follow up appointment with my doctor. I call him my bum doctor because he's the one that gave me my Colonoscopy and sense we are on intimate terms...I thought it suited him. My friend Cathy who is a Intensive Care nurse told me, Oh we don't call them that, we call those doctors the Bootylicous Doctors. Somehow, that term of endearment just doenst roll off my tongue...Anyways, I go to my 4 O'clock appointment and I'm there about 10 minutes early. I walk in and every single chair is full, plus, 3 people are standing. The room is small and there are no windows to the outside. I sign in and find a corner. I am forced to watch "Health TV" again I am forced to hear about erectile dysfunction....Oh man, come on, where's the segment on cooking squash? That's way more interesting to me. I'm standing and standing and finally a chair opens up and I sit down. It is now 4:35 and I'm getting antsy. Finally they call me up to the window...it is now 4:55ish. I ask how much longer because there are 10 people ahead of me (i counted) and I don't think I can handle it...I'm a little claustrophobic. She peers her head out her little window to look at all the people like it's the first time she heard that,then looks back behind her at a clock then tells me I'm gonna guess about 30 to 40 minutes.

Well, that's all I needed to hear. There's no way I'm gonna sit there that long for a follow up that I already know the results to and listen to "Health TV' again. I tell her 'I'm sorry, I can't stay, when is your next appointment", she tells me Thursday at 2:20 and you'll be his first patient when he come back from the hospital. Great...let's do it I say and I'm otta here!

Again, I'm there on Thursday about 10 minutes early. I walk in and there are 4 people sitting there. Hey! I'm suppose to be first here! I sign in and ask the girl (it's a different girl) if I was his first appointment, she gives me a strange look and says "No, there are about 4 people ahead
of you...it won't be long. I sit and wait and wait...it is now 2:40 and she calls me up to the window to pay. They call me back pretty fast at that point and steer me into an exam room ....where I wait and I'm not kidding, 40 excruciating minutes. At 3:30ish the bum doctor moseys into the room, says hello, opens my file and tells me everything seems to be OK with a couple of minor issues, then asks me if I have any questions in which I reply sure and I proceeded to asks a few, but what I really wanted to know was since when did Bootylisious doctors become so popular?

Just Desserts!

It's only a matter of time before the dreamy scent of pumpkin waifs through the house enticing us all. Your days are numbered before you become a scrumptious dessert... a la mode.