Archive | May 2013

Mrs. Magoo Strikes Again!

Have you ever noticed that when you buy a new car, suddenly everyone has your exact car????

Happens all the time.


Before I bought my car back in December, I knew that there were several in Frankfort that looked exactly like mine.  But I wanted a RAV4 and I wanted a blue one.

What I didn’t know was there are approximately 452 BILLION blue RAV4’s in Frankfort.

They are literally EVERYWHERE!!

I meet myself coming AND going.

And that’s hard to do, folks!!

But I love my car.

It was exactly what I wanted.  I wouldn’t change a thing.

Well, if I could, I would change what happened to me Saturday night.

Saturday was Dad’s birthday.

We weren’t sure if we would be able to celebrate it on his actual day because he had that procedure done on Thursday but up in the day on Saturday, Mom let us know that he was feeling pretty good and wanted to go to the Cracker Barrel.

Sounds good.

We met there, had a lovely supper and then we went out on the porch and visited at the Barrel for a couple of hours.

It was a nice night and we didn’t have to fight over the rocking chairs.

There were plenty to go around!!

As the evening passed by and the sky got a little darker, I decided I better go to my car and get some stuff I had for Molly and Mom.

The Mr. asked me if I wanted him to go get it and I should have said YES!!

But I assured him I could get it just fine.

What was I thinking???


Out in the dusky night???

Could I really take care of this on my own??

The answer to that is a resounding NO!!!

No, I cannot!!!

I head over to the car and when I passed by the car in front of it, there was a dude (or dudette, I really couldn’t tell) sitting in their car and smoking a cigarette.

Thankfully, they pulled their arm in before I got burned on their butt!!!

{Sorry, Mom, for saying “butt”}

I hit the button on my key to unlock the door as I go be-boppin’ past Smokey Smokerson.

The door wouldn’t open.

Well, I must have only hit it once and opened the driver’s door instead of twice for the passenger door.

I did it again.


Wouldn’t budge.

I hit the button for the third time and it dawned on me that the unlock “beep” was coming from behind me.

About 4 rows behind me.

I’m at the wrong bloomin’ car!!!!!

And right in front of Smokey!!!

What’s a Magoo to do???

I said (out loud) “Well this isn’t even my car!”

Now, if that’s not Me-maw I don’t know what is!!




Mish Goes To Town

I’m basically a small town girl.

Sure, I grew up in the Capitol City but to call Frankfort a “city” is really a stretch.  Frankfort actually doubles in population during the week because of state government, but on the weekends, we’re just a small town.

Yesterday my family traveled to the big city of Lexington because my dad was having a cardiac procedure.

Everything went well and he’s fine but whenever you take us small town folk to the big city, stuff is bound to happen.

And Mish is bound to find it funny.

The Mr. had to work so I was on my own to get to Lexington.  I asked Molly if we could ride together and she said sure but reminded me that she has no a/c in her car.


Well, that’s not hapnin’!!

Now before you go thinking that I’m an a/c snob, let me just tell you that I can live and even travel with no a/c (with some complaint!) but the end result is a hairdo much like Rod Stewart and since we were going to be in the public, I figured that was just too much!!!

So I decided that I would be big and brave and just drive us there myself.

We got to the hospital just in time to see Dad before they wheeled him away and that’s when I discovered that his doctor was Doogie Howser.

He was a little kid!!

It’s very disconcerting when your doctor and your preacher are younger than you.

It’s just wrong!!!

Anyway, we sat and waited and visited in the waiting room for a couple of hours and then we met with Doogie about the details (I love me some details) and instructions.

Then they wheeled Dad back in.  Bless his heart was he groggy!!!  But his hair was still perfectly coiffed.

How that man can get his fine-as-frog-hair ‘do to get that much height is beyond me.  No one else can duplicate it but it’s basically been the same as long as I can remember.

Check it out:

Dad recent


Dad past 2


Same hair!!

{He’s gonna fuss at me because he’s lost a lot of weight since that more recent picture.}

One of the male nurses came in to see how he was doing and Dad kind of roused up a little.  The guy patted Dad’s foot and said “You’re going to need to be a couch potato for a while” and Dad mumbled something.  The nurse asked him to repeat what he said, so he did:

“Are you going to put butter and sour cream on me?”

We just cracked up!

Dad doesn’t remember that at all.

Once he was ready to be transferred to a regular room, Marti and Molly went out (in the pouring rain) to get us some burgers for lunch.  We decided to eat in the waiting room since there was only one chair in his room and Mom wasn’t budging!

The waiting room was a nice place with windows all around the room so you could see out in the hall but it was behind closed doors.  Probably because they knew we would be rowdy!  There were several men scattered around the room and no one had turned on the TV so it was pretty quiet.

That right there stumped me.

How can so many men sit in a room with a TV and not turn it on????

Then I noticed there was no remote.

‘Nuf said!

There were several vending machines and a little alcove with a counter and storage underneath.  Molly goes over to clean her hands with the hand sanitizer hanging on the wall.  We had seen these dispensers all over the hospital.

She pumps a bunch on her hands and starts rubbing them together.  As she’s getting lathery she looks at us and says “This is soap”.


“This is soap. ”

“It’s not hand sanitizer.”

“It’s soap.”

“There’s no sink.”

“There’s no water.”

“Where is the sink?”

“This is soap!”

At this point, the men are coming awake and starting to snicker.

Marti and I, on the other hand, are full out laughing at her!!!

She’s just standing there with her soapy hands in the air looking for a sink!!

We told her to just go to the bathroom.

“I can’t open the door!!!”

It was like an Abbott and Costello skit in there!

We laughed and laughed at her running up and down the hall looking for a sink!

While she was gone, Marti started to divvy up the food.  By this point we were all starving so I didn’t care who ordered what JUST GIVE ME FOOD!!!

Marti peeks in the first burger but, no, it’s not mine.  She sticks it in the crook of her arm and continues to dig in the bag.

I had just said “don’t drop your burger” when…….


Right in the floor!!!

Marti looks up at me and says, “Don’t worry.  That’s Molly’s!!”

By now we’re laughing so hard, we’ve driven all the men from the room.

I guess they just couldn’t take the antics of these small town girls!!


Family Ties

family tree

Yesterday I was gifted with some old family pictures.

My current boss has been a friend of my family since before I was born.  In fact, Patsy was at the old King’s Daughters Hospital the day I was born many, MANY years ago.

So when she told me she had found some pictures and was giving them to me, I was so excited.

I love old pictures.

And I love my old family.  🙂

Now I had seen these pictures before but now I have my very own copies and I thought I’d share them with you.


This is a picture of Dad’s parents, Ira and Vera McLean (better known as Mawmaw and Pawpaw).  The picture was taken, I believe, at my parent’s wedding almost 50 years ago.

And here is one of Mom’s family.  I’m not sure what year this was taken but since Mom’s not in it, I am assuming it was right after she got married.


That’s Me-maw and Pe-paw (aka Cleora and Ernest Cannada) and those are Mom’s brothers, Ricky and Roger.

Now, this picture was an extra treat.


This is my Uncle Walter and Aunt Christine and their two daughters, Debbie and Patty Jo.

That Uncle Walter was quite a hoot.

All of my dad’s brothers are pretty funny and love to pick on and tease each other and really anybody else they are around.  I’m so thankful for their sense of humor that they so generously passed on to most of their offspring.

I can remember one time being at Mawmaw and Pawpaw’s house and when it was time to go, I was told to put on my socks and shoes.  I sat down in the floor and started to put my socks on.  Uncle Walter said “Your putting that sock on the wrong foot” so I jerked it off and started putting it on the other foot.  He said “No, that’s still the wrong foot”.  So off that sock came again as I switched feet.

I’d love to tell you that I caught on to the joke and that was the end of it but truth be told it went on and on with me putting the sock on and Uncle Walter “helping” me by telling me I was wrong.

It’s funny today but at the time it was very frustrating!!!

Uncle Walter got the biggest kick out of that!!

He’s been gone for a few years now and I sure do miss him.

And now for the most confusing part of my family………..Roger and Debbie.



Roger (my uncle) married Debbie (my cousin)







Confused yet????

I know!

This sounds like a crazy Southern thing where the family tree only has one branch, but let me assure you that it’s all legit and we have a somewhat normal family tree.

Actually the tree is normal, the family not so much.

Roger is Mom’s brother and Debbie is Dad’s niece (Uncle Walter’s daughter) so they are in no way blood relations.  But it makes Roger my uncle AND my cousin and Debbie is my cousin AND my aunt.

And their kids (Bryan and Shauna) are our first AND second cousins!

I won’t even begin to try to figure out what Bryan and Shauna’s kids are.

Second, third AND fourth???

So that’s my crazy family.

Please tell me yours is just as crazy!!!




Don’tcha just hate horn tooters??

Not tooters of actual horns. I’ve got no problem with those folks.  In fact, one of my favorite people in the whole world is a great saxophone player.

I’m looking at  you, Andrew!!!

The horn tooters I’m speaking of are the ones who brag about their own accomplishments.

If your accomplishment is so great, why not just wait for someone else to toot it for you?

Doesn’t it mean more to you if someone else toots your horn???

That doesn’t sound quite right.

Moving right along………

When I hear someone tooting their own horn, my usual reaction is to tune them right out.  And of course, an eye-roll is always involved.

It just gets on my ever-loving last nerve!

With that being said, let me say this:


I came in the office this morning and was propositioned right off the bat!

You see, a co-worker had ordered his breakfast from the diner down the street and asked for 2 biscuits and gravy.  Well, since an order is 2 biscuits, they gave him 2 ORDERS and would I like one?


Are you new here????

Of course I would!!!!

And for a split second I thought about grabbing that biscuit and gravy, diving in and eating my way out.

But I’ve had a good food week.

I’ve stuck to my eating plan.

I’ve been HOT for 4 days in a row with today being day 5.

I’m planning to be COLD for the weekend.

Do I want this biscuit and gravy???


But the fact that I’m wearing a shirt today that I haven’t been able to fit into and that now looks GREAT helped me stay HOT.

So no, thank you, I’ll stick with my peanut butter on double-fiber bread sprinkled with hemp hearts.


But tomorrow?

Now that’s another day all together!  🙂

So now that you’ve heard my toot, feel free to toot about me the rest of the day!


Enjoy The Ride

bikes 2

I’m gonna let you in on a little secret.

I’m not very athletic.

I’m not even a LITTLE athletic.

I know….

Your shocked!

But in full disclosure, I let the Mr. in on this little tidbit early on in our marriage.

Of course, I waited until we were married just in case it was a deal breaker for him.  🙂

He’s known for a long time now that any sort of physical activity, especially outside, just doesn’t work into my fitness plan.

My favorite workout is changing channels with the remote control.

That’s why it’s funny to me when he seems surprised that I don’t want to do athletic things.

Has he just met me???

A couple of years ago, when we still lived in NY, he convinced me in a weak moment to go bike riding with his brother, Mark.

Now Mark wasn’t as easily fooled as the Mr.

Or was the Mr. fooled at all??

Maybe I was such a catch that he didn’t want to risk me getting away.

Of course, since I’m so athletic, there’s little chance I could outrun him.

I’m fairly easy to catch!

But Mark found out way before he married Alyssa that she was in fact athletic and liked to do outdoorsy things.

I mean, these people barely even watch TV.

How can we possibly be related???

So I reluctantly agreed to go for the bike ride at the waterfront in Buffalo.  Mostly because I thought I could outwit the Mr.

How could I possibly go bike riding without a bike?????

No problem, said my extremely excited husband, you can ride Brian’s old bike.


But again, I thought I had him.

Brian’s old bike was actually bought for Brian when he was in elementary school.

How could a woman, fully-growed, possibly ride a kid’s bike???

No problem, said the optimistic Mr., you’re the same height that Brian was when he used this bike.

Daggone it!!

One more shot…………I’m slightly heavier than Brian was (and is) so the bike will surely buckle under the weight.

No problem, said my now grumpy husband who had by this point figured out my scheme, this bike is nice and sturdy with big fat tires.


So I resorted to the only other thing I could think of.


I prayed and prayed for rain on that Saturday.  I think I may have even done a rain dance but the day dawned bright and sunny with a nice breeze.  Perfect for a bike ride along the lake.

So I decided to put on my happy face and just enjoy it…… what I SHOULD have done.

What I ACTUALLY did was gripe and complain and stomp around in the most ugliest of displays.  Me-maw would have surely flipped me for my rotten attitude.

And that poor Mr.

He had to drag along this pitiful excuse of a Southern lady.

So we met up with Mark and Alyssa and their oh so sweet daughter, Sarah, and we started to ride.

I kept reminding the Mr. in my sweetest, most loving voice to not get too close as I wobbled my way along the lakeshore.

And by sweetest, most loving voice, I mean that I was shrieking like a crazy woman!

I know…..I’m a joy.

But somewhere along the way, I started to enjoy myself.

Maybe it was the lake breeze.

Maybe it was the company.

Maybe it was the way I didn’t crash myself.

Whatever the reason, by the end of that ride I was ready for my own bike!

And that sweet Mr. of mine got me my own purple bike for my birthday that summer.

Of course, I had to get a different seat.  I asked the salesman if I could get a tractor seat or maybe a big ole bean bag seat but they didn’t have anything that big so I got the biggest one they make.

A few weeks ago the Mr. finally bought himself a new bike.  It’s really nice and he was so excited.  He’s been bugging me ever since to go riding and I’ve put  him off every time.

But last night I caved.

As soon as supper was over he was ready to go.  I was feeling a little full but wanted to be a good wife (for once) so I said I was ready.

The neighborhood that we live in is called Indian Hills.  All the streets are named after Indian tribes.  There’s Commanche, Chickasaw, Seminole, Creek, Iroquois, Chinook and even Ojibwa and Kickapoo.

But the Indian name is not the most important part of the name.

It’s called Indian Hills.

Indian HILLS.


And there’s a good reason for that.

It’s right at a mile from my house to Molly’s house.

A mile is easy on a bike.

No problemo.

But it’s Indian HILLS!!!!

By the time we got up the first hill I was thinking that my supper was going to make another appearance.

I was huffin’ and puffin’ and if there hadn’t been so many red dots flashing in front of my eyes I probably would have pushed the Mr. over as he was riding circles around me in the most vulture-esque way.

We finally made it to Molly’s and after collapsing on her front walk for about half an hour, we made the trek back home.

Sadly, I had to push my bike up that last hill, but I did it.

I rode through Indian Hills!

I can’t walk this morning, but I did it.

And that’s what counts. 🙂