Scribblings

Is there anything more miserable

Is there any animal in more misery than the dog getting his head petted who keeps nodding off and falling over only to then be out of reach of the hand that was petting him. So he jerks awake each time he starts to fall over only to have his eyes go to half mast within seconds of the head petting starting again. My poor Snowy. I thought he was going to have whiplash last night trying to keep his head within reach of my hand.

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Scribblings

There’s always something with meaning

Why is it whenever someone’s tv parent dies there is always some item of monumental significance that brings back memories of the loved one. Sure, I have my Aunt Ida’s soup ladle but on NCIS, Gibbs has a boat his dad made with his mom’s name and then he starts building one and then he remembers building the original with his dad while music swells into past visions in the distance. I look at my aunt’s soup ladle and think of the soup with the tiny meatballs that started every Christmas meal. I don’t remember what the people around me

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Scribblings

The Emmys

Until such time as they give an Emmy to Leroy Jethro Gibbs, I will not wear my formal bathrobe and tiara while watching the show. It simply doesn’t deserve that much respect.

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Scribblings

Do we ever?

Do we ever get so old that our upper range hearing is so damaged that the sound of our teeth being scraped during a cleaning doesn’t make us want to leap out of the chair and run out of the room?

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Scribblings

Here’s some truth in advertising

I guess I’m getting more than a little tired of hearing people gripe about how many vacation days Obama takes. Let’s look at a comparison of him and Bush… Bush who was president while two wars were going on and the economy was tanking…

“On Aug. 8, 2014, Knoller tweeted that Obama had taken 19 vacations totaling 125 days so far while in office. Those numbers have risen a bit due to the Martha’s Vineyard vacation, but that’s still many fewer than George W. Bush’s 65 combined trips to his Texas ranch and his parents’ home in Kennebunkport, Maine, which

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Scribblings

Damn!

I thought we’d have at least a few minutes break between the primaries and the general election but the sound never even dimmed on those god awful political ads. I pray god it reaches a point where it’s just white noise in my ears. Or maybe I should just read a book between now and then and never look at tv, listen to radio or peruse a newspaper.

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Scribblings

I must now accept

I must not accept the fact that no matter how many times I step into the shower and step out through the same glass door, Carm will sit pressed against the shower door in the absolute certainty that there is a hidden door on the other side and someday I’ll step through it and he’ll never see me again.

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