Author Archives: Ken Hansen

Peace, Love, And Understanding

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Well my friends, here we are again in another election cycle. Lots of opinions flying around the interwebs and the Twitbooks and Facepages. Some opinions are based on facts, some are making up “facts” as they go along. All I know is, if someone is very sure about themselves, there’s not much I can do to get them to look in a different direction. There was a time in my life when I felt it was very important for me to try however; and all that accomplished was hurt feelings and sometimes the loss of a friendship.

A very dear friend of mine used to say, “You know, we can disagree without being disagreeable.” As I grow older and moldier, I try to practice that philosophy. Sometimes I fall short, of course; because what can I say? I’m human. In tough times though, I’m finding that peace and harmony are much more important than getting on a soap box.

Does all that mean that I’m OK with injustice, hatred, and environmental insults to Mother Nature happening in this world? Of course not! I just need to be careful not to spit out all the “My Way Or The Highway” platitudes. There’s certainly enough discord in this world without me stirring up more. However, anger can be stirred up even when facts are presented. An example: I remember posting a complaint about the actions of a government official on the Bookface. A torrent of comments ensued, some agreeing and some not. I was saddened by one of our leader’s actions and I spoke out, but I was not prepared for the sniping that my post generated. Then, unfortunately, some name calling ensued.

My response: I deleted the post. I could no longer bear the sniping.

All of us have the right to our thoughts; but when discussion morphs into anger fueled rants, communication is sabotaged. Name calling will not promote harmony; which is desperately needed right now. I’ve come to realize that any negative thought can be harmful. At the very least, negativity causes my Serenity Alarm to loudly clang between my ears; but my professional opinion is such thoughts are harmful to the Universe in general. Lately I’ve been working much harder to keep my thoughts as positive as possible. An exercise I’ve been reading about insists that any negative thought must be immediately replaced with a positive or at least neutral thought. This applies to situations, places, things, and of course people. Instead of bad mouthing any him or her, I instead work to pray for the person to be happy and healthy all the day long. This isn’t always easy, but the result has been much greater peace of mind.

I’m pretty sure God wants me to live that way. In fact, I’ve come to believe that God wants me to love everything and everyone. Years ago I stumbled upon an anonymous quote which stated that “Nature is God’s reflection.” Holy Wazooky!! That means everything from molecules (or smaller) to galaxies and beyond!! Although I have no idea of the origin, it has become one of my favorite quotes. Then a friend challenged me by saying, “So Ken, that means all of us are part of that reflection, right??” Of course I had to agree. So I do my best to love everyone, even those who I will likely not invite to dinner. It’s just better that way.

To quote a favorite artist of mine, “What’s so funny about peace, love and understanding?”

Good Grief

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Here comes our last goodbye; at least in the physical sense of the word. Tomorrow afternoon we’ll be putting my Beautiful Girlfriend’s bones in the ground. She wanted to be cremated, but she also wanted a stone; so of course that’s what we did. Her name, my name, and our son’s name all carved on the face; as the local cemetery allows up to 3 sets of cremated remains in the same plot.

Her remains are in a biodegradeable container… a cylindrical pressed cardboard thingy with a nice picture of some trees covering the outside. I put Never Anne’s cremated remains in the container with my Honey Pie… our daughter reminded me that Mom made that a requirement some time ago. Nevvie was our calico cat who lived with us for 21½ years. Although she started out as our daughter’s kitty, when our daughter moved into town she knew full well that Ms. Never Anne, the inside / outside mighty huntress, would never tolerate being cooped up in an apartment. Very soon after our daughter moved out, Nevvie latched on to my Lovely Bride and wouldn’t let go.

Last Friday we were graced by the presence of well over 100 loved ones who came to the Celebration Of Life. Many came from quite far away. And since my Honey was a nurse, the local chapter of the Nurse Honor Guard blessed us with an amazing tribute to my Honey’s nursing career. In contrast, the internment will be a small affair… a total of 16 of us. Immediate family only, biological and extended. I’ll be reading a short goodbye piece I wrote in honor of My Sweetie’s passing, and I’ll lead the group in The Serenity Prayer at the end to finish up. All this just one week after the Celebration of Life, and 3 days after what would have been our 51st wedding anniversary.

We want to be done.

To honor her, I posted a memory on the Bookface on August 21, the day we were married way back in 1973. Got lots of love and caring comments of course. But every now and again folks say things like “I’m sorry you have such pain.” I try to reassure them that it’s OK… this is what grieving is all about. Our embracing of the principles in our 12 step program have given my Honey and me some tools along this journey we call life. We’ve been able to endure the travails of her illness. And holy cow, she was able to face her demise with grace and dignity. We were able to tell all our friends and family that we were “… grateful and content much of the time.”

And we were!

So the pain of losing my life partner has been both bearable and unbearable. I’ve cried often; and will likely continue to do so when needed. I remember telling her, “I can see myself crawling into a deep dark hole when you’re gone.” Not a healthy way to deal with any of this. Instead, since she’s passed I’ve gone to more 12 step meetings than I have in many moons. I continue to see our therapist who has helped both of us process the challenges of a terminal illness and its inevitable outcome. I’ve signed up for two grief support groups for those who have lost spouses. And my social calendar has filled up quickly. Even made some very nice new friendships!! I’ve learned long ago that God works though people; and that sharing all my feelings with those who care about me is a very important part of the healing process. And yes it still hurts, but the sting is waning a tiny bit. A very tiny bit.

I’ve asked her to come home several times but that doesn’t happen for some reason (duh). However, I’ve felt her presence numerous times, and have also received what I’m sure are thoughts from her on matters ranging from who to mention in her obituary to “I want some of that strawberry shortcake!!” I’m absolutely certain that although she left her body behind she is still very much alive in The Great Beyond. It can be comforting when I stay reminded of that; but I do miss her terribly and sometimes I just need to have a good cry. So I do.

And that’s very OK.

So… I posted this video on the Bookface recently but the song won’t leave my head lately so here it is again. I sang it often when she was here, and I suspect I’ll continue to sing it for some time.

Nitrite Ni-Nights

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I try to do my best to eat a healthy diet. But sometimes… just sometimes mind you, I veer far away from such self discipline and just go for the gusto.

Well guess what??  During a recent grocery store excursion, I was determined to find some low fat stuff that was fun to eat.  Like maybe liverwurst or hot dogs or something.  Don’t ask me why, but about every six months or so I get a craving for that stuff.  Yes, I know there are lips and noses and all sorts of weird stuff in hot dogs.  And God only knows what all they put in liverwurst.  Sure, they both have ingredient lists on the package, but you just can’t help but think they put something in there that they aren’t talking about.  Although both have sodium nitrite in them (not a good thing for your body), I don’t eat them often enough to get any nitrite nastiness. I hope… Anyway, I figured once in awhile won’t hurt.  Anyway, on my latest munchies mission I was looking around for some foods that wouldn’t put the lard in my booty, and guess what I found?  Low fat liverwurst (known in these parts as braunschweiger) and fat free hot dogs!  I grabbed a package of each, and very soon enjoyed the decadent pleasure of processed meat.  A liverwurst sandwich with low fat mayo and a dab of mustard for lunch, and a couple fat free hot dogs with my stir steamed veggies for dinner.  I was in hog heaven.  Pun intended (there’s really no such thing as “low fat liverwurst”).

I suffered no ill effect, and got my processed meat craving out of the way for awhile.  Well, OK, there was one effect, but I don’t really consider it a bad one.  I got a free “movie” out of the deal.  It’s like this, OK:  I don’t eat processed meat very often.  When I get that urge I mentioned earlier, I usually go in like gangbusters and have lots of yummies with chemicals that are not normally in my body.  And I’ve noticed that whenever I stuff my face with things that have sodium nitrite in them, well, I have very interesting dreams…

There I was, minding my own business, on a pontoon boat with no side rails or canopy.  I was one of several people on a fishing trip, and we had just sighted some huge bluegills when the guide started complaining aloud, “Well, we can’t fish here.  The grocery store doesn’t want us fishing in their parking lot.”  I was pretty disappointed, but when I looked over the side and saw the parking lot markers on the asphalt (about 6 feet underwater) I knew that this was just the way things had to be.  We motored off into the middle of the lake (or whatever it was) and slowed down while we passed a strange wooden dwelling that jutted out of the water.  The structure was not painted, and had obviously been there for a very long time.  Inside, people with very long noses were speaking a strange language and drawing pictographs on each other’s backs.  Then suddenly, the scene changed…

I found myself in a college lecture hall, and my sixth grade teacher was having everyone stand up and do recitals that were due that morning.  I got the sudden sense that my turn was quite awhile off, so I decided to take Bishop the Wonderdog for a walk.  We walked through a nearby neighborhood which was bordered by some woods, and stumbled upon a very large cat.  My first instinct was that we had met up with a mountain lion, but the coloring was that of a domestic feline.  However, this kitty was very large, probably in the neighborhood of eighty pounds or so.  I expected the cat to get all poofy at the sight of my doggie, but quite the opposite happened.  I heard a thrashing noise, and turned to see Bishop’s fur getting all poofed up.  He was visibly trembling and excited, and his ears were flapping about and looked like small horse tails flying every which way.  At this point I went back into the lecture hall, only to learn that my turn to recite had long since passed and everyone had gone home.

Now how does one analyze that dream?!? It was just plain fun!!  That’s my analysis.  Recreational dreaming.  Before retirement, I told stories of hot dog dreams to friends at work, and I remember a guy was envious a few days later, because he had eaten several hot dogs and had no dreams.  He thought maybe he might shoot up some hot dogs before bed time, but I am pretty sure that HOT DOGS MUST NEVER BE TAKEN INTRAVENOUSLY.  And really, with all the chemicals and whatnot; I wouldn’t even advise eating them at all, except for the fact that sometimes they just plain taste good.  So the next time I go to the store, I’ll try to help my non-dreaming friends out and see what kind of cool dream foods they have…

Probably start in the frozen camera section.  I’ve heard that deep-fried watch batteries are very delirious and full of norg oxides, which strengthen your screaming bones.  While urging the ceiling tiles to quit sniffing crayons, Clamp Store Managers often shout at squid as they have cart races through the small table mazes.  Ink-flavored baggage has been found to prevent shoe decay, so when the Amazing Puckered Jelly Mixer begins to twinkle in the closets, all the new employees will be happy to learn of their celery.  As we move now to the chain-operated video spray, thick woolen camouflage breadsticks push other bagels out of the paper fudge racks.  Now, we are sure, no foods in this whole universe are better than freeze dried pajamas.

I think I should maybe stop eating braunhotschweigerdogs for awhile now…

Berg Snerfles Who Live On Mars

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Note: The following story was inspired by our grandsons when they were several years younger than now. If you don’t believe me, just ask me some time.

Back in the day, which was the day before a few thousand days before today, on a Saturday, during the summer, a large, pickle shaped meteorite fell to Earth with great screeching and flaming and smoke and kaboom. All the local folk saw it land in Clem Barfington’s corn field; and it seemed like just as soon as it hit the ground there was a crowd of curiosity seekers closing in to check it out.

Several minutes after the meteorite landed, there was still quite a bit of smoke floating up from the cornfield crater. However, the smoke was very strange… it was bright orange with green and purple stripes; and had a very unique odor. Cindy Tringletoes was pretty close to the site, and had been breathing some of this strange vapor as the crowd grew. Suddenly, her eyes opened really wide as she took a couple long, deep sniffs. Then her face kind of twisted sideways as she started speaking out of the left side of her mouth and said, “Hmmm… smells like a combination of Zanga fruit and Brope noodles!!”

After Cindy’s strange announcement, her Mom started to ask her what the HECK she was talking about; but was interrupted by a faint tapping noise coming from inside the meteorite. The tapping grew louder… louder… LOUDER and was quickly followed by a shrill noise as a part of the meteorite began to move. The movement continued and it quickly became apparent that some kind of door was opening out of the meteorite. The crowd gasped and stepped back quickly; and Steve Woofclank blurted out, “Ummm folks?? This here ain’t no meteorite!!” Of course by this time the crowd was pretty aware they were witnessing something very strange.

The door opened completely and two strange beings climbed up from inside; and stepped out of what the crowd now knew to be some sort of space ship. A hush fell over the crowd as they stared in amazement. None of the townspeople had ever seen beings from outer space before; and the bright orange skin with green and purple stripes (very much like the strange smoke) fascinated them to the point that they all stood very still with their mouths open.

The beings sensed that the crowd was amazed, and maybe even a bit frightened by what they were seeing; so they quickly spoke through their cravnabs to introduce themselves. And yes, like every strange story about space beings, the visitors knew English…

“Hello Fellow Universe Beings!!” the first visitor said. “My name is Wognob, and this is my wife Bleeftok. We are Berg Snerfles from Mars, but I think we made a wrong turn near your moon. Hope we didn’t mess up your corn crop too badly when we landed.” After Wognob uttered his greeting, he turned to his wife and whispered, “Oh my, these strange beings are rather weird looking, aren’t they??” Bleeftok pinched Wognob’s cribnoot and whispered back, “The Creators made all beings in the Universe, we must not be rude to them even if we find them homely and smelling like Martian fish food.”

Then Bleeftok spoke up and said, “We need to get back to Mars soon because we’re missing the Celebration of Chiggles. But we’ll need some fuel and we hope you can help us.” Cindy Tringletoes, still very wide-eyed, walked up to them and asked, “I will help… what can I do?” “Well,” Wognob said abruptly, “we believe your Earth has just the fuel we need. We’ve been receiving your television signals for many years, and we are pretty sure that if we could get some of your Lucky Charms and a little milk that would help quite a bit.”

Very quickly, Bleeftok turned to Wognob with a puzzled look and asked, “How will that help our fuel situation??” Wognob’s face turned turquoise as he looked at the ground and said, “OK it won’t, but I’m hungry!” The crowd laughed, but Cindy and Steve took off and quickly returned with several boxes of cereal, some milk, bowls, and spoons. It wasn’t long before everyone was sitting down while munching on Lucky Charms and telling stories about their children and the upcoming Firefly Festival.

Bleeftok ate her share and stood up to thank everyone. “We very much appreciate your hospitality,” she said happily. “Now if we could just get a few hundred gallons of maple syrup and a pack of matches we can be on our way.” George Frocksnibble shouted from the back, “I have a load of syrup on the back of my pickup truck you can have!!” “That’s right neighborly of you, George,” said Bleeftok. So George backed his truck up near the space ship and Bleeftok jumped aboard and began slurping ALL the syrup out of the containers. Afterward, she got some matches from Brenda Shortsnout and pushed them into her left air sniffler.

Bleeftok’s head began to wiggle strangely as she ran back into the space ship. Suddenly, what sounded like a huge sneeze came thundering out of the belly of the ship; and very soon afterward the outside lights started flashing as a whirring noise seemed to signify that the spaceship was starting up. With a startled look, Wognob dropped his bowl of cereal and ran over to the door of the ship and shouted a few things to Bleeftok, who was still inside. With a few nods of his head, he turned to the crowd, smiled, and shouted, “Sorry kids!! Gotta go!! Thanks for everything!!” Then he jumped inside and the hatch closed behind him.

The space ship shuddered a bit, then rose slowly as more orange smoke with green and purple stripes began to flow away from the landing site and over the crowd. Finally, there was a very large farting sound and the ship was gone. After getting a few sniffs of the weird smoke, the crowd all became very wide eyed and smiled broadly as they started reciting Martian poetry and did the Elbow Hooking Dance.

Wognob and Bleeftok were very grateful for all the help they received, and have been leaving messages of thanks on the insides of boxes of Lucky Charms ever since.

The End (…for now)

I’m very certain this week’s cartoon exemplifies exactly what it’s like on Mars. Oh and don’t forget the second cartoon to enjoy Bimbo’s journey to the red planet.

A Silly Letter To My Fossilefooted Friends

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Dear Fossilfeet,

Now that you have been eating all those bug flavored crayons, please remember to wash the tree cups with yellow potato hair before Santa starts singing rodeo songs again. You probably know by now that only really good fossilfeet will get spaghetti with baseballs for dinner. That’s exactly why I have gone to the Coconut Store for a fresh batch of pencil slime.

Sometimes I can see through walls!! Other times, I walk right into them. It all depends on whether they are made of glass or gravy. The gravy can be scraped off with a Radio Rake and used to make a very yummy Chocolate Pudding Pot Pie. Just add a few handfuls of ice crackers and about 3 quarts of raisin skins and you’ve got yourself a brand new bag of fluffy pajamas. This is best served in a steaming hot squid basket just before the full moon drops its corn dust in the hall closet.

All joking aside, I really need to ask you all an important question: why do you keep asking the toaster where the cat is hiding his new computer?? Don’t you know that toasters will make a horrible clanging noise when they fall out of bed?? Do you really think the cat will use his computer to draw up plans to make another burping shed? I mean, I don’t even know why people have to use the shed for burping… you can burp just about anywhere these days. Just always remember to be polite after you burp and say, “More soda please.”

Now we get to the part where I issue you your work assignments. After all, there is much to be done around here. Always remember that doing chores with a smile on your face requires you to be both quick and slimy at the same time. Chores include mud making (we need 372 pounds for the upcoming Snork Festival), telling stories to the lawn tractor, and on Tuesdays we also need someone to grease the bath mats. Oh, and not to forget: we need someone to wash, dry, and fold all the firewood before we plant it in the seaweed sauce before next year’s log harvest.

Very well then. As you can see, the sky will turn purple with pink polka dots shortly after we put the macaroni and cheese in our pillows. New dust lanterns will walk to school together to learn about ketchup farming in New Norkulus. The cream cheese I put in my shoes will give my ankles great happiness; and I can’t wait to tell them how silly they looked at Harmonica Harry’s liquid television store. Snakes will give more money than ever before to all the owners of cellphone activated minnow traps in Northern Michigan.

I like you very much, and I’m glad we don’t have to argue over that last piece of peach dust I found in the Martian Money Basket I’ve been sniffing. Please tell your neighbors that we are very pleased with their nervous systems. Remember to have the scientists inspect your nostrils before you go flying backwards through the jelly spraying trucks.

Peace, Love, and Hugs,

Me, Your Fossil Finding Friend

What Was Your Name Again??

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Hi Folks!

There is only one TRUE way to impress your friends with warmth and love, and that is by sending the following letter to all of them on a special day that neither of you will remember. So, since this I am writing this “Happy Friday” to all of you, my dear, wonderful friends, please take a minute to be bathed in the loving thoughts in the letter that follows. AND, as an added bonus, you can easily cut and paste it into your very own, original, plagiarized letter and send it to YOUR friends! No box tops or proof of purchase required!

OK? Here we go…

An Open Letter To The Best Friends I Have Never Known

by Me

Dear Snifflehead,

Don’t think for even one minute that you can even for one moment even possibly have a chance to realize anything about the possible chances of knowing what I was thinking a moment ago. Give me a break already. You know what I mean, right? Of course you do, that’s why we’re friends!

It’s been nearly three days now, and that’s longer than what I had anticipated before the three days began. That was at least three days ago. Now it is three days hence, and it feels a lot like three days have gone by. It may seem redundant to you, but I don’t wish to repeat myself on the point of being guilty of saying the same thing over again. That would be redundant, as you may have detected, but I refuse to be accused of saying the same thing over again.

Our friendship goes back as far as I can remember; but to be honest, I can’t remember who the heck you are or what you look like. All I know for certain is that you will soon be receiving small packages of soil in the mail. Consider it a token of appreciation for all the things you have never done for me. The soil you will soon enjoy will contain very small mites which will observe you while you go to the bathroom (they’ve been known to take notes). Please be aware that if you hear faint, high-pitched laughter in there while you are bathing, that is just those silly mites. They carry small video recorders; so don’t be surprised if your hiney is featured on “America’s Funniest Videos” in the years to come.

Let’s make a point of having bark salad sometime at separate restaurants together. Then we can have a nice telephone conversation with someone we REALLY like, and it would be much more meaningful than this garbage. You never contacted me in the first place; so if you think I’m going to write another word about this, I’m crazy. Take notes at the next sink-plunging session you get involved in, and remind me to laugh at the resulting jelly donuts you stepped in during the last Global Crybaby Kaka-Roach Festival.

Above all, quit following me. I can smell you in my dreams. I know the model of automobile you have been repairing lately. It is futile for you to hide from observation, there is a satellite transponder in the kitchen with your name on it. What was your name again? Nevnex? Something like that.

In the meantime, here are some friendly suggestions you may memorize each day until you lose the list; at which time I will cease and desist from any further wild cabbage infusions.

Jump loudly with bugs; they will appreciate the entertainment.

Try not to eat too many crayons.

When you sneeze, grab your neighbor’s shirt sleeve quickly to avoid spreading snot globs.

Always keep extra cheese in your spare tires.

While shopping, yell “HOOT NAH!!” very loudly at 10 second intervals while waiting in line.

And finally, don’t forget to lose this list.

Your Anonymous Friend,

Me

Bugs Are My Friends (?)

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Summer is in full bloom here in Michigan Land, and with warm (and lately wet) weather comes:  BUGS!!! RAARRRGGHH!!  GET THE GUN! GET THE GUN!

No no, no guns.  I’ve often been tempted to carry a shotgun on a walk with me and blast a hole in one of those big mosquito swarms that follows me around.  But that might not be practical, and I doubt that the neighbors would appreciate it.  And if you use a gun inside, well that makes holes in your home that are unsightly and drafty in the winter.  Oh yes, and people can get hurt too (duh).

Mind you, I’m not a fan of mosquitoes and other such bitey-bite insects, but I keep telling myself that Mom Nature has a plan for the stupid things.  I never use poison to kill bugs… sprays and foggers are usually worse than the bugs you are using them on.  And believe it or don’t, I actually say a little prayer when I kill things like mosquitoes, ticks or garden pests. Sometimes the prayer is really simple like, “Sorry!!” I very rarely use bug repellents like OFF or whatever.   I’m sorry, but I’d rather suffer than put poison on my body.  And in the case of those outdoor foggers, unfortunately they also kill many GOOD bugs.  The same goes for in the garden, and because we don’t spray, we get lots of beneficial insects like praying mantis, lacewings, ladybugs and the like.

Other friendly bugs (which are not bugs, they are arachnids) are spiders.  Wait a minute… SPIDERS!! ARRRGGHH! GET THE GUN! GET THE GUN!  Oh wait, no guns.  So OK, I don’t really freak out quite that badly.   In fact, spiders actually get a fair trial at our place. I’ve actually learned to appreciate the beauty in those little eight-legged alien beings. Being the organic gardeners that we are, the family has learned to respect beneficial bugs as a valuable resource. Yeah, I know. Spiders aren’t technically bugs. Tell that to your six year old and see how far you get!

Anyhow, spiders don’t strike terror in our hearts these days (ya, right). That statement is pretty much true, especially if :

A) WE KNOW WHERE THE SPIDER IS, AND

12) IT’S THERE WHEN IT’S SUPPOSED TO BE.

To explain item 12) above, I really need to come clean and admit that many spiders have been killed execution style simply by showing up near one of us by surprise.  But we really do try to save them if we can and I’ve even grown to the point where I can pick them up…sometimes. If they’re small enough.  But when those rascals are crawling on me unannounced, I have been known to do one of two things, either greet them with a sudden KERSMOOSH, or I do a most unusual running dance. I also chant while run-dancing:  “OGodHolyCowYoySpiderBig!!!” Or something like that.  As I said, spiders will normally get a fair trial at our house. When discovered, they are captured and released in the garden. Spider sightings have often caused the family to summon me with big voices. If Mr. or Mrs. Spider (How do you tell, anyway? Don’t EVEN ask me to inspect their private parts!) isn’t too large, I’ll scoop it into my palm and carefully encage it in my hand. I set them free behind the compost pile, or someplace where they can find cover. The big ones, however, are strictly jar material.

An excellent critter catching device can be built with a jelly jar and one of those ejector type cards from a magazine.  You know, the ones that fall out of a fresh-out-of-the-mailbox magazine when you’re on the potty.  They’re easily identified by their large bold print that goes something like:   “YES! Send me 956 weeks of Dirteaters Digest for only $34.67, $50 less than newsstand price!“  If you don’t have a jelly jar, a drinking glass is also a good bug holder. Such a device is also useful for wasps, which are also beneficial critters. Woe unto the spider or wasp who is in the wrong place at the wrong time, though. Those guys get the old El-Kabong treatment. Know what you have then? Bug guts!  Ooo, ocky, yicky. Paper towel, please.

Sometimes rain has fostered a population boom of a garden pest that rhymes with bugs, SLUGS.  Those are NOT delicious!  I remember being totally intrigued by them when I was a kid:  “Wow!! A snail with no shell!!  Cool!!”    Now it’s:  “HEY!!  These *&%$ things are eating my plants!!  GET THE GUN! GET THE GUN!”  Oh right… no guns. Anyway, sticking to my organic ways, I won’t buy slug poison.  We saw some in the store and I wanted it badly.  Very badly.  But I figure there’s enough poison on our planet without me spreading more.

I heard years ago that beer will kill them.  You pour it into a shallow pan and put it on the ground, and the slugs are attracted and drown in it.  I reluctantly bought some a couple years ago for the first time ever in my new old life.  I say “reluctantly,” because before I learned my lesson, I’d already bought enough for one lifetime and I very nearly “drowned” in it… if you get my drift.  Now my oldness is new and I don’t allow beer (or any other intoxicant) into my body.  I’m allergic you see.  The stuff makes me break out in traffic violations. Anyway, the beer did work very well, but then I found a dead baby toad in the beer so I’ve quit using it in favor of sprinkling diatomaceous earth on and around affected plants. And of course if I find them I toss them out of the garden so they can feed on something else.

Anyway, sure, this organic gardening can be frustrating at times.  However, if you plan your garden carefully and encourage natural predators (beneficial insects and spiders), it is also very rewarding to grow food that you know is safe to eat.  And yes, of course I realize that slugs may rhyme with bugs, but they are not bugs at all, they’re gastropod mollusks. As far as I know, slugs have no natural enemies.

Well, maybe they have one:  ME.

Now I’ve never had any termite problems, but apparently Popeye has…

A Special Request

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Many of my friends and family have been asking me, “How’s it going?” My answer: “Well things are RFW right now.” The reply is “What’s RFW?” And my reply is “Really F*%king Weird.” They know why that is of course… and because of that I hope they’ll all excuse the letting loose of some recycled nonsense for this week’s silly scribble. You see, I’ve been tringling lately, and of course that could be construed as something that never resembled a bowl of dust chowder hiding in my furnace pillows.

On the other hand, next time I see them, I think I’ll ask both of my grandsons to wash the kitty litter with toothpaste and Chicken Lamp Soup so we can all enjoy another car tasting contest. It takes a lot of skill to taste cars, especially when their eyes are shooting butter globs out of the tailpipe whistle.

Ah yes, good old tailpipe whistle globs. Aren’t those just wonderful on a nice piece of cracked clam shell toasting waffle? Yes, of course you do. In fact, I distinctly remember the time both of my shoes had broccoli oozing out of the chimney faucets. Those were simpler times when rabbits knew how to yodel much more quietly than they do on Sundays.

Please, do not put any more ketchup in my coat pocket.

I am still a bit wonky after my Beautiful Girlfriend flew off to Heaven; so I hope you will all coagulate my indivisibility regarding this short but sweet Happy Friday!!! thing that’s happening right here. So sweet is the shortness of this story that I’m going to march down those stairs (the ones that go from up here to down there) and offer a shiny new dime to the first pencil sharpener that is willing to amplify my nasal tentacles.

Of course, we must finish this silly story with a small space animal that can write its own name with the largest pile of applesauce this side of the Martian Mud Watering Festival. Small space animals generally have names like “Big Giant Tiny Guy” or “Totally Huge Very Little Donut Flattener.” I’ve never met any of these strange beings; possibly because I just invented them with my stainless steel curtain softeners.

Very well then. Please give Love to All You See; and try to remember ask them to Give Me Some Really Delicious Cake. Also, Ask Them Not To Capitalize Every Word In A Sentence; Because It’s Just Not The Way Squirrels Are Supposed To Explode.Thank you, and please feel free to use this special cheese to stay warm on those cold, steamy grocery store power tools.

It’s in the cheese drawer.

At this time I must force you to watch one of my very favorite cartoons. That is unless of course you choose not to do so.

One Week

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So… my Beautiful Girlfriend left for The Great Beyond a week ago. OK a week and one day to be precise. Lots of people figured I’d be a complete mess without her… and I admit that my heart aches terribly. Lots of people have said “I’m sorry.” Lots of people have sent their love. And one friend in particular said, “I’m so sad for you.” Well I’m pretty sad too folks, but as I told my friend, I’m immeasurably grateful for the life we built together. Yes, I’ve cried my eyes out several times. One time in particular I cried very loudly and hard. My throat is still a bit sore. And yes, I was home alone so the only people who were affected by my outburst were Ivy Anne and Luna, our two kitties.

It’s OK, they still love me.

Grief mixed with gratitude has brought me a pretty decent helping of peace that surprises even me. I’ve even been able to be a bit silly and make friends laugh. I’m convinced my Honey Pie would want this for me. I know if the situation was reversed, I would be doing everything I could from The Other Side to lift as much sadness from her as I could.

Before she left, we actually focused on gratitude somewhat regularly. It’s a tool we acquired during our recovery from addiction that enabled us to enjoy each day, and especially the last of our time together. As her mobility waned, a successful evening often meant watching our favorite TV shows while stuffing our faces with chocolate goodies. As the end approached, one of my important jobs was to ensure there was a box of Good N Plenty available at all times. And when evening came, I’d prepare a dish of miniature chocolate bars, some peanut M&Ms and maybe some whoppers or some other chocolate remarkableness. I sometimes silently scolded myself for chocolating (Not a word? I don’t care!!) along with her, knowing that my britches would probably tighten a bit. But that never stopped me. I made the mistake of getting on the scale a few times during the many weeks of chocolate holy mackerel; but it was a small price to pay for keeping My Sweet Love’s sweet tooth satisfied.

“We are blessed,” was a common refrain. Because we are.

“Can you imagine trying to do all this horrible disease stuff while being homeless?” I asked her some months ago. I’m guessing the length of suffering might have been much shorter, as our ability to get medical care would have been challenging at best. I cannot bear to think about how homeless people suffer each and every day. I mean, my Lovely Bride and I had no debt, a nice home, plenty to eat, cars that work, and an amazing collection of family and friends with whom we share the joy of living. What more can you ask for?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

What came to mind for this week’s video was the song by Barenaked Ladies. My Beautiful Girlfriend and I loved their music when it first came around, even though the members of the group are neither bare, nor naked, nor ladies.

So here ya go.

A Very Short Lifetime

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My best friend was whisked off to the Great Beyond yesterday. She also happened to be my Beautiful Girlfriend, my Soulmate, my Love. The People Upstairs (you know, those God people) put us together 52 years ago when we were 17 year old children. She allowed me to marry her when we reached the ripe old age of 19; and I will be forever grateful to have been blessed with over 50 years of wedded bliss.

My Sweetie was an amazing woman who powered through a long battle with idiopathic interstitial pulmonary fibrosis; a nasty lung disease that robbed her of so much. During her lifelong career in nursing she showed me how to care for others with excellence, empathy, and love. I’m convinced that her living examples literally taught me how to become her caretaker these past several years.

I’ll be honest, I’m a bit shell shocked. How can such an amazing lifetime with such an amazing person end so abruptly? Poor baby was in Hospice care for just a smidge over 40 hours; but thank God (whoever They are) we were able to get the meds to ease her journey into the Other Side. When we first met, we very quickly knew we were meant for each other. Our intimate spiritual bond gave us the fortitude to venture into life on our own as soon as we were legal adults. We pretty much literally grew up together; and seems like all the dreams and planning that went along with young love happened forever ago. On the other hand, our deep enjoyment of every moment we spent together made it feel like we just fell in love yesterday.

As youngsters, we partied like there was no tomorrow. After partying a bit too much; recovery taught us how to be grateful for each new day; and gave us the tools we needed to embrace (but not necessarily like) the changes her disease dished out to us. Friends would often be surprised when we told them, “In spite of all the bullshit, we are grateful and content most of the time.” And we were.

We were blessed by a visit with a local psychic back in April; and during the sessions we were told that My Honey Pie would be able to communicate with me easily from Heaven. Well guess what, she already has!! Numerous times, no less. I know this because when my mind is still I receive thoughts that I know are coming from her. I’d love to hear her voice and see her face; but hey, maybe later. I do know that she’ll be the first person I’ll be looking for when it’s my turn to cross over. It will likely feel like a rather long lifetime for me, but from what I’ve heard time is different over there. Guess I’ll just have to wait to find out.

I love you my dear. I’ll see you in my dreams. And then later in person!!