Category Archives: Random

Where the girls are…

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Warning – This is not a post about children.

“The girls” in this case are a part of a woman’s physique.  If you don’t understand, you should by the end of this post.

A couple of Saturdays ago I met a friend for lunch and a few hours of shopping.  She needed a cast iron skillet and I needed a dress for an upcoming wedding.  Interesting combination.

Since the cast iron skillet would be heavy to carry around, we opted to look for a dress first.

While I was perusing the store for a suitable dress, my friend was also browsing and found a few tops to try on.

I think I tried on 8-10 dresses and found two that I really liked.  My friend tried on several tops and found a couple that she liked.  Then she saw a dress that another customer was trying on.  She asked the sales lady to see if there was one in her size.  It didn’t fit as she is very well-endowed (with the help of silicone).  She needed a larger size.  The other customer didn’t want the dress and it was the size my friend needed so my friend tried it on.  All the while she was in the dressing room, she kept talking about “the girls” wondering if they would fit in the dress.  The sales lady seemed a bit confused and asked me if my friend’s daughters were shopping with her and would they need to approve of this dress as she kept hearing about “the girls”.

I whispered to her that it was just the two of us shopping today, pointed to my chest and told her what “the girls” were.  Her eyes got really big and she said, “My goodness, I’ve never heard of that expression before.  I just learned something new today.”

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Mr. Aitch wears white socks.  Every.  Day.  He used to get holes in the toe so I started buying him Gold Toe® socks*.  No more holes in the toe.  Yay!  Now he gets holes on the bottom of the heel.  I need “Gold Toe and Heel” socks for him.  It seems that no matter how often I wash whites, he always runs out of white socks.  So I bought him another package of six pair last week.

Socks

Now the rest of the story:

This past Saturday I planted all the flowers and herbs I bought the week before.  I had to wait for a day when Mr. Aitch was available to move the bags of soil for me.

No sooner than I got started, I felt something on my arm.  Without looking I just brushed it away.  I have no idea what is was but my arm started itching immediately.  I ignored it until I was finished.

flowers

Please ignore my faded and stained planters.  I scrubbed them first.  Really, I did!

I got myself cleaned up and noticed the raised welt on my arm.  A drop or two of hand sanitizer usually calmed the itch for hours.  This time it worked for about two minutes.  I figured it was a spider bite since this has happened to me before.  In the past the site of the bite would swell up to the size of a small grapefruit.

Mr. Aitch suggested I take some Benadryl.  Benadryl and I don’t get along very well.  It makes me drowsy enough to be nonfunctional then causes nightmares when I do sleep.

When I went to the market Sunday morning after church, I asked the pharmacist what I could use to stop the itch.  Hydrocortisone cream.  I felt relief instantly.

I applied more to the bite area (including the gelatinous glob forming under the skin) before I went to bed but needed to cover it so the cream would stay on my arm and not get all over the sheets.  So I cut the top off of an old pair of holey white socks Mr. Aitch threw away as a way to cover the bite.

cut-sock

You’re going to have to trust me on this.  I cropped out the discolored holey part.  You can thank me later.

I asked Mr. Aitch to help me get the sock top over the medicated mess.

arm

I told him I cut the top off of one of the new pairs of white socks I just bought him.

Wha…..?

The look on his face was priceless.  I thought he was going into shock.

Just kidding, Honey!  It was an old sock.

Rarely do I pull one over on Mr. Aitch but I did this time.

*Note:  The opinions expressed here are mine and mine alone.  I received no, nada, zero, zilch compensation from the fine makers of GoldToe® socks.  I just wish that I did.

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When I was is college, I ended up in the hospital with severe abdominal pain.  The doctors weren’t sure what was wrong with me so it was a wait-and-see kind of treatment.  No elevated temperature so an infection and appendicitus were ruled out.  The doctors did allow me to eat.

Gelatin.  Breakfast, lunch and dinner.  And always the same flavor.  Orange.  I had no choice of flavor.

As it turned out, I had a bad reaction to a OTC medication.  Time healed this particular pain.

To this day I can not eat plain gelatin.  Ever.

But I do like it with fruit or vegetables in it.

As long as it isn’t orange.

No orange gelatin.  Ever.

gelatin

Dear John

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Last Wednesday evening I such a strong desire to call you but I wasn’t sure if you were still in ICU or had been moved to another room.  Since I am not family, I figured I wouldn’t be able to talk to you on the phone and decided it would be better if Mr. Aitch and I would visit you again in person.

I wanted to tell you how much we appreciated your compassion and concern when our family had challenges.  No matter what.

We really enjoyed the times when you and MT would play Trivial Pursuit at our house until the wee hours of the morning.  You and MT would sleep on our sofa bed.  One morning you even made Eggs Benedict for us.  Things settled down soon after your second child was born. We didn’t see you as often.

Once in a while you would come over to our house for dinner when MT would take your kids to visit with her mother for several days.  One afternoon you helped Mr. Aitch bake a frozen apple pie for dessert after I gave him instructions over the phone.  I never understood how someone with a doctorate degree could mess up something so simple but you did.

Our daughter was selected to submit a recording of her playing the piano to perform at one of the music conferences.   You offered your piano studio and  professional equipment to record a tape for her.

We always had opportunities to talk about kids and life in the evenings on the motorcycle trips.  The teenage years are the hardest to get through for not just the teen but the parents as well.  Remember when we went to Connecticut in 2000?  You pulled your bike on a trailer using Dick’s truck.  It rained the entire time.  You offered to let me ride in the truck with you so I would be more comfortable but I declined.  You loaned me your brand new leather gloves that turned my hands black when they got wet while I rode on the back of Mr. Aitch’s motorcycle.

On the way home we stopped in Hazelton, PA for the night when Mr. Aitch saw a huge bolt of lightning ahead of us.  The skies opened right after we all got checked into the hotel.  Two other motorcyclists stopped at the same hotel and you invited them for pizza.  You ordered two of the largest pizzas I have ever seen.  The two bikers, you, Dick, Mr. Aitch and I sat around eating during that deluge and we still had almost an entire pizza left.  The girl at the night desk appreciated the leftover pizza.

Now don’t get the idea that you’re  perfect because we all know that is not the case. Words to describe you could be bull-headed, perfectionist, stubborn, egotistical.  And yes, a pain in the, um, neck.  But also honest, ethical, compassionate and generous.  I knew you when you were “John” before you became “Doc”.

The past several years have gone by quickly.   It’s hard to believe that the last motorcycle trip was ten years ago. Mr. Aitch would see you more often than I would since he had band practice close to your office. Lately I would only see you for a few minutes after a concert while I was waiting for Mr. Aitch to get his saxophone and music gathered together.  You always had time to talk about your next project.

I remember your yellow Corvette.  That you really liked my potato salad.  Your excitement of becoming a Catholic.  Your open arms and a peck on the cheek every time you saw me.  And that you were going to retire next year after you did Les Miserables.

Yes, John, I so wanted to talk to you last Wednesday night but I hesitated.  And then it was too late.

I hope your final hours were pain-free and restful.

May you find peace, comfort, joy and love in the arms of God.

If you would like to know more about John, you can read his obituary.