Thursday, October 30, 2014

Word Play 5

Today we have a HUGE word:

magnetoencelphalograph

That is a BIG word.

8 syllables long!

And it's a type of instrument. Sort of kin to an x-ray machine, CT scan, MRI and the like. I think in this case magnetism is used in order to measure the electrical currents of the brain. And it looks as if some of the data was used to dismiss the whole notion that we use only 10% of our brain.

Something like that. I just know when I saw that word, I thought...

Dang! That is a huge word.

And I can use it for my 30 minute word exercise.

Let's see if I can get over 100 words in 30 minutes.

magnet, harp, net, mag, tone, cone, game, name, graph, rap, hag, gap, gape, halo, par, gel, note, net, lace, mace, hall, log, hog, rag, rape, goat, help, peal, goal, tone, agent, tame, came, cell, lame, collagen, call, mall, pro, heat, meat, neat, oat, pare, care, tare, tear, creep, ten, men, lean, goo, pool, cool, hoop, grope, rope, cope, hello, melt, goal, coal, rage, cage, parent, apparent, place, gent, gentle, lap, cello, pone, one, omen, once, loot, moot, mean, poll, placate, tonal, lent, meant, cent, pent, tempo, temporal, recent, logo, noon, moon, tangent, clap, clop, lop, gel, caller, hope, let, nap, pan, pane, cane, mane, halogen, alpha, mantle, camphor, camp, got, germ, gem, garment, cement, remote, large, march, arch, mange, gram, ram, tam, tome, gene, aloha, roll, toll, mole, pole, logger, hogger, tonal, local, mat, mate, pat, cat, grate, crate, rate, pleat, carpet, mono, monogram, champ, chap, hamper, camper, planar, plane, trace, grace, cram, telephone, phone. groan, moan, loan, lone

159 words.

I thought I would have done better than that. But I found that I needed a "s", and an "i".

Oh well. I learned a new word.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Of Pam and Motorcycles

So my car Pam has a few isshas from time to time.


That's her from her good side. The other side... well the tires have no hubcaps. I need to drive her more. Right now I may put around 500 miles a year on her.  I am sorry, but I have become a little more high class now. I like Lucy Jr. the Lexus' leather. Yes I do. But I jump in Pam every once in awhile.

Recently she needed some new front tires. It looks as if there were some dry rot issues.  They were REALLY old.  I bought some new tires a few years ago, but I like to buy two at a time.  That same day my brake switch broke. That's not that big of a deal. It is responsible for the brake lights going on and off. And with it broken, the lights stay on.


I could drive it, but I would have to unhook the battery for the night so the brake lights wouldn't drain the battery.

No big deal. I just order the part off of amazon. It is only $40.

So my cubicle mate Cowgirl Cre's father "Daddy Cre" takes care of that. Here he is the last time.


I am not limber enough to take care of all that. So when it broke this time, I called him up early on a Saturday morning. He told me to come on over. So I had to jump out of bed and shower and hightail it on over there before he left out for the day.

They only live 10 minutes away. So I made it over there in 9 minutes, lol.

Anyway, I like to go on in the house and chat it up with Momma Cre while Daddy Cre fixes my car.

And I like perusing the beautifully framed pictures on the dining room wall.

If you go in many black family homes these days, there will be pictures of the Obamas up on the wall. There is a nice one on the wall there:


That is nice...

But the pictures that draw me like a magnet are the ones of Daddy Cre... on his motorcycle.


That's a cool picture right there.

But this next picture is the coolest of all...


Now that is an awesome picture. I love it!

"I think I took those pictures," Cowgirl Cre said, when I asked her permission to post them.

I can believe that. And I can hear him now. "Hold on Cre, let me put my foot up. Let me lean over. Now take the picture."

*Cre snaps picture*

And that was long before the advent of digital cameras and cell phone cameras. Those pictures are from cameras loaded with film. And the film had to be developed by the drug store's photo department.

Those pictures will never get old. They are full of character and originality.

And Cowgirl Cre said, "That's how I remember my Daddy."

That's how I remember him too. I know he doesn't ride his motorcycle anymore, but those photos are timeless.

And I hope they will always keep those pictures up on the wall.

Monday, October 27, 2014

Quote of the Day: Of Self Worth and Opinions

I heard a couple of interesting quotes on Sirius XM this morning. I don't have the person's name, but I think he's a financial and business guru. But I thought they were good quotes to write down...

Not one ounce of my self worth depends on your opinion of me. 

Now that's a good one.

You know, when I make decisions, or I am talking to people about decisions they want to make - especially positive ones or ones that move towards our purposes- it never fails that one big thing comes up: worrying what others will say or think about it.  There's that old fear of rejection, too.

And I always wonder... if what others have to say was out of the way, would we do more with our lives?

Just a question.

And all of this is complicated by people are experts on the lives of others... but are not fully aware of their own lives.

We are terribly judgmental, yet afraid to be judged. 

You know it's true.

So I thought that was a good post. Worth remembering...

Here's to a healthy since of self-worth. 


Friday, October 24, 2014

Friday Freestyles

Today...

Is...

Friday...

Thank goodness for that. For one, it is PayDay. Second, it has been a LONG week. Too much to post about. 

I have a ton of posts, and a ton of pictures. The problem is loading all these pictures. And I haven't felt like doing that.  So I may just do some abbreviated madness.

The biggest thing this week has been with your girl Callie Jo...


She is a long way from the little 0.3 pound kitten she was...



Her eyes changed color. When did that happen?  And thank goodness I don't have to clean her eyes everyday. She grew out of that.

She is 5.5 pounds now... all cat at 6 months of age.  And Wednesday she got...

SPAYED.

She had her ovaries and uterus removed. Ugh.

It is more than a notion. Lawd have mercy, remind me to only get boy cats from now on. LAWD. Neutering is a lot less intense than spaying. Oh my!

I will write more about that ordeal next week.

Right now she is a prisoner of love.



A prisoner of love... in her Elizabethan collar. And she is NOT happy about it. Not one bit.  You can tell by the way she has thrown all that shredded paper all over the place.

More on that next week.

I also, on the same day I dropped Callie off at the vet, picked Grandma up... Well first I got a phone call.

*phone rings*
"Hello?"
"Hey Lisa, is that you?"
"Yes," I said. I knew it was Grandma.
"The doctor called about my shoes. They said they are in"
"Uh okay," I said, as I remembered that she ordered a pair when I took her to the podiatrist last month.
"The doctor said my shoes are ready," she repeated.
"Okay," I said. "You have another appointment in a couple of weeks. We can get them then."
"But my shoes," she said again. "The doctor say they are ready."

So you know what this means... Grandma's shoes were IN and she wanted them as soon as possible.

So we went and picked up her shoes. This is a serious trek, as Grandma walks as slow as Tim Conway.


So I picked her up...

 Look at her... She was ready in her sweats and pullover windbreaker. I got there at around 8:45 am after dropping off Callie Jo for her spay. I thought I would have a couple of hours to just sit around and wait for her to get ready, but she was standing there ready. 

And we went and picked up her shoes...

Those are some good shoes. If I could slip my size 10s into her size 6s, I surely would.

And you should've seen the smile that spread across her face when she tried them on at the doctor's office. I wish I could've taken a picture. I reached down to make sure that her toes were in the right place and asked her to wiggle them. The shoes are just right for her feet.

She got up and walked around in them. It was like the scene out of Forrest Gump, when Forest walked around the office in his new leg braces (all 'cept Grandma didn't fall down).

She is happy with her shoes.


And I am glad I could take off to take her to go get them.

That was the pinnacle of my week. My feel-good moment.

And that is it for my freestyles. I don't have much going on for the weekend. I have to keep Callie Jo still for 10-14 days. That's not going to happen, but I will be eyeing her from a short distance.

I have a lot of reading to do. I came across something I have never heard of before... Fractal Geometry. It peaked my interests. I must investigate further.  I am also reading a book on the origins of ebola. Ya'll better get out here and read instead of watching all this manufactured news... hear me now, believe me later on that.

Overall, I am hoping for a quiet weekend. I hope the temperature gets up, though. Aren't you tired of this weather already? It is COLD!

Have a good weekend... On purpose!

Monday, October 20, 2014

Good-Bye Oscar-Tyrone.

I was looking through my cell phone and I saw my last few pictures of Oscar-Tyrone. I picked a couple to post.

I knew he didn't have much longer to go, as he has slowed down so much, so I took him outside to get some fresh air and to let him play around in the grass. He'd been sleeping a lot, so going outside woke him up a bit.


I know that had to shock him. He was an inside cat and had rarely been outside in his 17 years. When I did take him outside, I would have to hold him tight so he wouldn't run away.

But he seemed content with this little bit of time out.



At one time, he stood up and scampered towards something. I ran over to see what it was. It was a wasp. I said "Oh no, dude... you bite a wasp, you get stung. And that'll be a problem for real!"

But he seemed to enjoy his time outside. He wandered behind the bushes and all around. He wore himself out, though.  When he'd climbed the stairs and lay on the porch, I knew he'd had enough and it was time to go back in the house.

And this is my very last picture of him, taken 3 days before he died.

He was laying on the ottoman on his blanket. As usual, he was staring at me hard.  His scowl was especially hard in that pic. Yet, he would just stare at me... then he would jump down from his spot and walk over to where I was lounging on the sofa. After much more staring, he would jump up on my lap.  I rubbed him until he fell asleep. And sometimes we would listen to some Mahalia Jackson.

But he died on Columbus day, some time in the middle of the night. He hadn't come out of the closet at all the Sunday before (he would usually make an appearance to drink water and hit the litter box), so I knew he didn't have much to time to live. I sat his box, some plastic bags and some gloves next to the closet just in case I needed them. I found him and carefully placed him in three bags and placed him in the box which I had lined with one of my winter scarfs. I taped up the box and later wrote his name and a couple of messages on the box. Then I placed his box in the garage until I could dig his grave in the backyard.

Now digging his grave... that was more than a notion. It was going well until I got down to that red georgia clay. It might as well had been concrete. Between that and the mosquitoes biting the stew out of me, I was done.

So I drove around my neighborhood looking for one of the locals who helps me with yard work. He was supposed to stop through that day, but hadn't due to the rain. So I found him after a few minutes...

... and he came over to finish digging the grave under a tree in the backyard.
He needed a pick axe to get through that clay (I knew it wasn't just me. I ain't that weak).

I didn't want to stand there while he dug the grave. I played around with Pam (my mazda), which is parked in the back of the driveway next to the backyard. Cowgirl Cre's father had just replaced the brake switch that had broken, and he told me that I needed a quart and a half of oil. So I checked my oil and added more while Mr. Dwayne finished digging the grave.  He called me over when he finished.

He asked if I had any last words or requests.

I didn't have much to say. I was more concerned with not embarrassing myself by falling out on the ground crying.

I slapped my arm hard. The mosquitoes were at me again.

"He was a good cat," I said. "He had a good 17 years of life. A good cat, he was. Good-bye Oscar-Tyrone."

And with that, Mr. Dwayne placed his box in the ground.
And I watched as he covered him up. I blinked back my tears.



 I held my composure, though. I didn't wail as he packed the dirt down.

I thought I should sing a song... or play some Mahalia or something.  But the mosquitoes... ugh.

"You want me to cut the grass for you?" Mr. Dwayne asked.

"Yes," I said. I had worn myself out from the one hour's worth of digging. I didn't have the energy to mow grass. And I wasn't in the mood.

He went into my garage and got my lawn mower. I stood out there and reminesced for a moment... until I heard the hard whir of the lawn mower. 

And that was that.

I still need to go buy a marker for his grave. A nice brick with his name painted on it will do. 

I have been fine.  There has been a bit of tearing up and sniffling when I am around the house and I am calling Callie Jo "Oscar" by mistake. Or if I see some old pictures of him, I tear up a little.  And I guess that is to be expected.

But 17 years is a long time. If that cat could talk, he could tell some stories about me...

"That LadyLee," he would say. "That Oldgirl has done a bunch of questionable mess."

Yes I have. And "mess" is not the word he'd use... He could tell the whole story. Yes indeed.

He was always a loyal animal, as animals tend to be.

I am not much of a cat or dog person. But one thing about animals: they don't judge like humans do. No they don't. 

This warrants a song of the week... One that sent me a cryin' while standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes yesterday.



My goodness. I must remove that from my oldschool rap playlist.

Or maybe not.

Goodbye Oscar-Tyrone.

I will always remember you, good cat.