frankly · Friday · musings · observations · Uncategorized

Friday, the hour of perfection…

A curious kitty. Un ejemplo de curiosidad. &qu...

Image via Wikipedia

When I was growing up I was a little kid, small.  When I was a teenager I was a skinny Minnie, average height but very thin, pretty much all long arms and legs.  When I was in my twenties and thirties I was  as tall as I was as a teenager, maybe a bit shorter than average, and I had filled out some but slender.

Not much changed until my mid-fifties.  Oh boy, things changed.  Nowadays I seem to be short and fluffy.  I am the same height but the younger generation is taller so I seem shorter than I was when young.  And the small slender willowy girl has given way to a soft round shrub of a woman.  I will say a nice shrub, leafy, and without thorns!

Fluffy farm cat near Moor Lodge
Image via Wikipedia

I’m not complaining…well, not too much.  I would like to have those shapely–and firm–arms back, and the flat tummy, and the cute derriere.  I am happy to have a hint of cleavage these days that sort of takes the attention away from the muffin thingie at the waistline.

When young I thought I was too thin, now old(er) I think I am too plump.  At some point I must have been just right.

  I was probably asleep during that hour of perfection.

frankly · observations · Tuesday · Uncategorized

Tuesday, a rant about complainers…

grumpy cat

Image by eesti via Flickr

Why is it that some people are never happy?  I don’t understand them at all!  I mean really, it feels better to be happy than not. Other people like being around you if you are happy but find you bothersome if you are always complaining.

These thoughts have come about because of someone I know who is never happy about anything.  To everything there is a down side.  Try as I might to help her see the sunshine she only sees the dark stormy clouds.  It is so hard to not argue with her.  She counters all comments with a complaint.  It is very frustrating.

Once she said to me that I was very lucky to have friends who are willing to help me when I need help, because her friends are too busy to be any help to her. It is true I have only to ask for help, sometimes I don’t even have to ask, they are just  there for me.  Yes, I am greatly blessed, and I know it.  I feel like telling my cranky friend that if she was more pleasant to be around maybe her friends would be more apt to spend time with her.

I guess this is a rant, a complaining one at that.  I know I have become impatient with this woman, and that is unkind and not very generous of me.  I just really really really hope I don’t grow up to be like her, lonely, unhappy, bitter, and plain miserable.

Today, I think I want my friends to be honest with me; and if I get to be awful and miserable to be around when I am old(er), that they will slap me up the side of the head and remind me of the blessed life I live.

frankly · Friday · observations · Tossing It Out A to Z Challenge · Uncategorized

Friday, shoes and my love/hate relationship…

high heels
Image via Wikipedia

I have a love/hate relationship with shoes.  I love looking at them.  I hate wearing them.

I think if people were created to wear shoes feet would have been designed differently.  As it is with all the curves and bumps and ridges, even pretty, feet have it is obvious that they weren’t meant to be shod.  Yet, we all wear shoes. 

I don’t wear shoes in the house.  I think shoes on feet in the house is just wrong.  I wouldn’t wear shoes ever, except then my feet would be cold or cut or bruised or scraped or whatever.   I have enough of that going on when I wear shoes.  Then there is the silly safety thing that stores and restaurants and public places have about naked feet.

When I get to heaven this is one of the things I want to talk to God about.  I think it has something to do with Adam and Eve not following the rules.

frankly · Monday · observations · Tossing It Out A to Z Challenge · Uncategorized

Monday, opinions and those who have them…

Paris - Musée Rodin: The Thinker

Image by wallyg via Flickr

Everybody has opinions.  I certainly have my share, maybe more than my share, I have opinions about almost everything. Even if I haven’t a clue what I am talking about I will probably have an opinion.  But I don’t think I am opinionated.  If someone asks me what I think about something I will tell them, give my opinion.  They can agree or not, same as I can agree with them…or not.

I like to hear the opinions of others.  I can get to know someone better when I hear what they think about things, big and small, important and inconsequential.  The thoughts of others will make me ponder my thoughts and beliefs and opinions.  Sometimes their opinion will change mine or at least make me consider what I think about things and why.  Often, after hearing another opinion and thinking about it I will feel more confident in what I think.

However, some people are opinionated and, in my opinion, they are a pain in the butt.  These folks will not let something go.  They will not just state an opinion but will beat you up the side of the head with it until you agree with them.  Occasionally, when this happens, and I am not proud of this, I become just like them!  Yep, I become a pain in the butt.  In my opinion this doesn’t happen too often,  but you would have to ask someone else about it, I may be somewhat biased.

But then again, in my opinion I am rarely, if ever, wrong so don’t bother asking anyone about it.

frankly · Friday · observations · Tossing It Out A to Z Challenge · Uncategorized · words

Friday, maybe yes, maybe no, or whatever…

Yes no maybe

Image by elycefeliz via Flickr

I do not like the word, maybe.  I mean really, what does it mean?

If you ask someone a question and they answer, maybe, have they really answered the question?  Do they know the answer?  Or do they just want to keep you unenlightened as to what they think?  Or do they just not want to commit?

I think most of the time they just don’t want to make a statement to which they will be held.  They don’t want to commit.

I do use the word maybe.  Usually, when I just want to satisfy someone but don’t have an answer, or when I think it is nobody’s business and I don’t want to answer the question.  But most often I say maybe when I want to buy time because I don’t want to commit.

Frankly, I think maybe is a very popular word and maybe rules the world.  Or maybe not.


frankly · memories · Saturday · Tossing It Out A to Z Challenge · Uncategorized

Saturday, Howdy Doody is kinda scary…

Portrait of Buffalo Bob Smith and Howdy Doody:...
Image via Wikipedia
When I was little we watched The Howdy Doody Show every afternoon.  It was always fun and I liked it.  There were several different puppet regulars and some guest puppets.  There were stories acted out by the puppets and for the most part I liked them.  Except for one story that was told over several days.
I don’t remember what the story was about other than the bad guy puppets all wore Dutch wooden shoes.  I had nightmares about these puppets and their shoes!  But I reasoned with myself that it was a TV show and what were the chances that these mean puppets in the wooden shoes would show up in the little town where I lived?  I was quite adult in my reasoning and the nightmares stopped and life went on.  Until…
My ma and I were taking a taxi home from our afternoon uptown.  Because it was such a small town there were only a couple of taxis and people would share rides with others who were going in the same direction.  So after we got in the taxi the driver picked up another fare.  And you will not believe it…
A rather stern looking very tall lady (I was about 5 so all ladies seemed tall) got in the car and…she…was…wearing…Dutch wooden shoes!
I was terrified!  I never said a word, but I did wonder what the odds were that I would be in a taxi in my small town with someone wearing wooden shoes
I had nightmares and daymares for weeks.  I was on the look out for others in wooden shoes.  I figured if there was one there could be others.  Happily, I never did see her again or anyone else with the dreaded wooden shoes.
I wonder how many other little children were scared by a story on The Howdy Doody Show.  What were they thinking having scary puppets on the show?! Marionette puppets are weirdly scary anyway, don’t you think?
I still check out the shoes strangers are wearing…you never know…