Happy Thanksgiving!

Let out your inner Rosalind!

Inside every happy and successful woman is

Rosalind, the Fairy Princess

She greets with world with a warm and ready smile.

She’s intelligent, as you can tell by the glasses.

She’s queen of everything she does -- hence the tiara.

The tights show that she’s sensible.

They’re playfully striped, yet perfectly coordinated with her outfit,

showing that she's clever and creative.

The wand points to the way she brings her own magic to every task,

large or small.

The wings will take her wherever she wants to go with confidence.

And, finally, Rosalind is fearless as she runs to meet challenges.

Let out your inner Rosalind

and take on the world!

Millions eager for launch of Big Butt Survival Kit

Last night I was at my sister’s house for dinner. We were gathering in the dining room and I found myself at the end of the table where I settled into an armed captain’s chair.
A wave of disgust came over me like a putrid fog.
“I’m going to need to trade chairs with someone, “I said, “or these arms aren’t ever going to the same.”
Everyone looked at me in horror. I exchanged chairs with my nephew in the stunned silence, and it was a while before the table conversation regained momentum.

This will not do. While I continue my sporadic exercise and diet program I need some sort of emergency kit for big butt situations such as this. From now on, whenever I leave the house I will have a Big Butt Survival Kit with me.
Clearly, I’m going to need a bigger purse. Something like a carry-on with wheels and a long handle will be perfect. The kit will naturally include olive oil or WD-40 for lubrication for getting in and out of a narrow chair. A crow bar and a small saw are musts. And how about a couple of giant shoe horns that I could place on the arms to use as a sort of chute -- or fat funnel, if you will. Butt horns? The problem with those would be that they would force the excess blubber upward, which could be a choking hazard. That would certainly make swallowing difficult. Wait. Is that bad….or good?
I could probably market the Big Butt Survival Kit. Think about the retail placement opportunities. Movie theaters, sports arenas and airports wouldn’t be able to keep them in stock. It should be made clear that the Big Butt Survival Kit will never make a good gift item for wives or mothers-in-law, however handy and practical it may be.
OK, I need to get busy. I need to design and find a manufacturer for the butt horns and see where I can get a volume discount on mega cans of WD-40. There’s no time to lose – I have a movie date tomorrow!

Zoe gets a lick!

A few years ago we had a bird named, I'm sorry to report, Feathers. Our little Yorkie-Shih Tsu cross, Zoe, was fascinated with the bird and one time I caught Zoe and Feathers in a "moment" on the back of the couch.

Feathers: "Hey there, scruffy puppy, what doin'? Come here and let me nuzzle you a minute!"

Zoe: "That pretty birdie smells so yummylicious, I wanna lick 'er!"

SCHLUURRRRP!

Feathers: "Come on, puppy, it wasn't that bad. Do it again!"

Wait for it, wait for it.....

This photo appeared in the Lewis County Herald (Craigmont, Idaho) a while ago. I love the cutlline!

Coming events:

* Highland students watch seeds germinate. Public welcome, no flash cameras, please.

* Highland students count hairs on a bee. Hundreds listen to live radio coverage.

M&M judgment call, please

So, I suppose eating M&Ms while you walk is completely out? But they're so handy with that "melt in your mouth and not in your hand" business. They're practically DESIGNED with sweating in mind.

Who needs surgery if you have crayons?

I realized this morning that, unlike many women my age, I really do not suffer from sagging boobs. At least not all the time. Don’t get me wrong, they’re like long water balloons, alright, but when I’m sitting, they rest nicely on the fat roll above my waistband, causing them to look quite large and perky.
Remember in the early ‘70’s when the rule of thumb was, if you can hold a pencil under your breast, you shouldn’t go braless? For those of us in our early teens at that time, we were looking forward to the day we had something that could trap a pencil.
Today, how many of us could hold a 64-pack of Crayola crayons with ease? Heck, I think I could probably manage a first grade school supply list.
In fact, a box of crayons could solve that whole sagging problem when I’m walking around. Crayons for when I’m standing, fat roll for when I’m sitting. Who needs surgery?

Exercise tip: Get a Lab

If you're having trouble getting or staying motivated to get out and walk, get a Lab.

If they don't get exercise, they get fat and everyone will harp at you, "A fat dog is a sign his owner needs more exercise." Blah, blah, blah.

After five years of enduring jokes about Jigs' waistline, the fact that he has rolling ripples of fat on his back, and a fat roll under his collar, I started looking and listening.

The epiphany came at about the same time I saw some candid full-body photos of myself. Is that my rear end?? Are those fat ripples on my back? Where is my waist? Did my head shrink? When did this happen?

So Jigs and I are on the desperate exercise plan together.

A pleasant discovery for me was that Jigs is big enough to pull me along. Sure, I have to move my feet myself, but the dog propels me along. I still get out of breath and overheated -- all the benefits of a good walk -- but I don't have to work at it very hard. It's practically cheating.

Shhh.

Barefoot in the snow

I’m wearing sandals into November. I don’t care about being challenged constantly: “Aren’t your feet cold?” “Don’t you know it’s wintertime?” People need more hobbies.

Because I’m a woman and I’m 48 years old, I’m hot all the time. Having my feet out in the cool air gives me a little comfort. (Sometimes I fantasize about standing barefoot in a snow bank.) I might be wearing a sweater and a jacket, just because it’s the season, but don’t look down. I’m wearing flip flops.

At least I’m keeping up with my weekly pedicures and have moved away from fresh and light shades to darker-toned polishes. And why isn’t anyone coming up with flip-flips with some nice tread on the bottom? That could be very handy this winter. I’m sure I’m not the only who would buy them in every color.

One lovely aspect of growing older is that I’m not overly concerned about the ugliness of my feet, anymore. I have accepted them. I used to hide my feet in sweaty sneakers all summer, or wear only closed-toe sandals. Not anymore. Here I am at the beginning of November, still baring my size 11s with their crooked toes and gargantuan bunions.

I’m even sporting a gold toe ring, as if to sneer, “What the heck are you looking at?” to anyone caught staring with horror at my feet. Sort of an in-your-face-with-ugliness thing. My feet offer a new opportunity to say, “Hey buddy, my eyes are up here.”

So, if you’re slogging around this winter and chance to see the prints of bare feet in the snow, that’s just me. I’ll probably have figured out that I can get around pretty well barefoot by gripping the snow with my well-manicured toes.