Sometimes I Hate Cell Phones

When the big walkie talkie cell phone came out  I thought I was living in the Jetson's age.

I feel like my parents were born in the Flintstones era and  raised us during the Leave it to Beaver years. All in all I felt pretty stinkin' lucky.

My dad didn't make a whole Lotta money so we were spared being Brady Bunch nerds but I secretly wished to be riding that Partridge family bus...I always knew I could be a good tambourine player if they just bought an old school bus and gave me the chance.

Didn't happen...

What DID happen was I ended up in the same boat as my parents. I have three kids... we're no where near to being rich but  are happy and healthy.

The cell phone craze has me all stirred up. If I didn't have kids I would leave my cell phone off and in my car when I went to work. After the Columbine episode I bought my then sixteen year old son a cell phone and demanded he keep it on at all times.

After 9/11 I bought cell phones for my younger two when they reached middle school. I felt pretty secure when they were in elementary school because I worked at their school and was just an intercom call away.

I don't know how many times women have caught me on my cell phone in the restroom at work talking to my kids and  have said to them "How did my mother raise three kids without a cell phone?"

She did  because we were raised in the Andy Griffith/ Leave it to Beaver years.

I wish my kids HAD that advantage but they didn't.

Once you start having kids and technology grows more rapidly than they do...you need to use  the technology to your advantage, and I did.

What kills me are lazy people that use technology as a crutch and an excuse to check themselves out of the scheme of civility and politeness.

Case in point...We have a sign on the front door of our restaurant..."No cell phones, please."

I LOVE IT!

Granted it's a rule we bend and make concessions for...but sometimes I wonder where people's common sense has gone?

I won't even talk on my cell  when I reach the check out counter at the gas station or grocery store. It may be 2011 and they may just be a cashier but for Pete's sake...DON'T BE RUDE!

Another stickler is people talking on a two way or speaker phone. Do we really  have to hear the entire conversation when hearing only one side for an extended length of time is way too much?

I waited on a table today and one of the women held her phone in front of her face for a good five minutes while I (including the four tables around her) listened to her conversation, which didn't sound like a chat with the President about whether to push the button on the red phone and star a nuclear war.

I decided I was being harsh and retreated.

 Then her husband got on his phone with HIS buddy and had another five minute "OUT LOUD" chat. It went on for another two minutes and I went to the table and said loudly (I say every thing loudly) "Okay...who wants tiramisu or  creme brulee...how about an espresso?"

His wife did the  "NOT NOW" sign with her hand knuckle side up going back and forth under her chin which inspired me to say "Just let me know what else I can do for you ... we can put some dessert in a box  for later and you'll be glad to have it when you get home...just let me know!"

I know cell phones are here to stay and I as a mother am glad to have them. I just want people to realize when to use and when NOT to use them.

 Emergencies...definitely!

 Random conversations not so much... or at least keep them private where we don't all feel like we are listening to an episode of "Dragnet"or "One Adam Twelve."

 (Younger readers ask your parents)

JUST SAYIN'....and not on a cell on speaker phone!

Til next time..COTTON!!

  

Goodnight, Irene (Hopefully)

I just love this picture! I bet every other meteorologist is jealous of him...you know, the dude with the huge warm front that stretches  three states.

I watched the hurricane all day today and followed it's progress. I am a weather geek (I guess there are a LOT worse things I could be.) I have always been terrified of tornadoes yet fascinated with them at the same time. One time about ten years ago one ripped through our community and while I had all three kids and the dog hunkered down in the laundry room with a battery operated radio I was glued to the front door peering out at the pine trees in my neighbor's yard across the street bent at a ninety degree angle. I just couldn't look away, it was mesmerizing! The kid's were screaming for me to join them in the laundry room but they were packed in like sardines anyway and someone had to look out for the funnel cloud. I never saw the actual funnel cloud but after the storm my husband had to walk two miles to the house  to get home because of the debris, leaving his truck parked on the side of the road.

Tsunami's  are the ultimate fascination. I watched the videos from Thailand over and over again.

Mother Nature is a mighty beast and it seems as of late, God seems to be pretty pissed at us too.

After my eight hour marathon of watching Irene do her worst I trudged into work. It was slow...the Falcons were playing and since I work in Georgia where people are scared of any kind of weather alert I imagined people packing into Home Depot for supplies just in case Irene did a double back and hit us too.

Since it was slow I was forced to find ways to humor myself....it didn't take long.

Hoke was working tonight (see previous post) and his section was  in the front of the restaurant which is close to NOTHING you need when waiting on tables. It is a section of tables far away from the kitchen, the bread oven, the soda tower and and to go items you need. There is a computer sitting on a china cabinet that holds napkins and extra silver ware. When Hoke works the front he stashes every thing he can up there for his use. He takes the best pepper mill and a cheese grater and a couple of sugar caddies and hides them on the side boards of the cabinet. He loads up the bottom drawer with to go boxes and to go bags  and thinks he's all "Snug as a bug in a rug" in his own little private Idaho. The top drawer is filled with dinner knives, dinner forks and salad forks to reset tables.

Me and my partner in crime "Janine" decided to mess with Hoke. Alternating turns we went to the china cabinet up front and took away his to go boxes and bags. The we went back and took all of his forks and knives and replaced them with nothing but soup spoons. We took away his pepper mill when he wasn't looking and took away his cheese grater and sugar caddies. I went back a few minutes later and noticed he had re-supplied his to go boxes and bags, and took them with me again. I went back and replaced them with two packs of de-caf coffee...the most least used thing in the restaurant and decided to take all of the staples out of the stapler kept there to staple credit card receipts to tickets.

It took him an hour to finally catch on to us but by then we had made him work harder than he had to and that was worth at least twenty bucks of fun for me and "Janine."

I work with an eclectic bunch...heck I consider myself eclectic so I guess I am in the right place. We have fun when we can and  pull together when we need to.

 I don't know if they love me at my store or love my ability to make work fun...it may be a toss up. All I know is that it is so fabulous to work for a family instead of a corporation. I think I do a pretty bang up job for them and as a bonus they keep me around for entertainment purposes. I think I fulfill both jobs , maybe I should ask for a raise!

Headed back to watch the hopeful demise of Irene on the tube and headed back to work tomorrow for another gig at the restaurant. Life is looking up, life is good and always remember "Life is what you make it."

Til next  time...COTTON

My 36 Hour Stay-cation...I Slept Like a Dog

I got home from work a couple of nights ago and just felt exhausted. I work too much, but when you are a server, if you don't work you  you don't get paid. It's not like a normal job where you have two days off a week and still bring home a full paycheck.

 It's the profession I have chosen ,  learned to live with and for the most part love.  My audience awaits me every time I clock in.  Who am I to deprive them of not only my pretty efficient skills as a server but even more amazing skills as an entertainer?

 On top of that I go home almost nightly and write about it for OTHER people to read who can't come to my  shows or witness my life and times (That I like to call  "Cotton-Palooza.")

I don't have two days off a week but I give myself two days off a year to completely and totally shut down. I just had my first one of the year and  already looking forward to the second.

I fell asleep on the sofa looking just like the above pup..."Pooped!"

 My hot flashes kicked up around two AM and I found myself glad I had filled the dog's water bowl in the kitchen before I conked out ...(Above photo) DANG, I gotta a LOT of wrinkles on my face!

I have two pups and they both love momma (that would be me...the one that feeds, bathes and gives them fresh water at least three times a day.)
I don't mind doing it because when I go into my bi- yearly funk, I needn't  worry about them...they "Funk" right along by momma!

I went to sleep at two in the morning with one at my feet and the other  on the floor by my head. It was like a symphony of snoring, we should have won a Tony.

My husband got up and took Massey to school at eight AM.
I got up and made a glass of Nestle Quik, let the dogs out for five minutes, let them back in and went straight back to bed with the dogs tromping beside me seemingly smiling like "Hey, we LIKE this idea!"
 I woke up once when my own snoring scared me and made Charlie the Bulldog start barking like he had heard something important and wanted everybody  to know he EARNED his keep! I slept like a dog til my hot flashes kicked in again. By then it was noon so I turned on the local news. After five minutes I felt like doing exercises so I rolled from my left side to my right side and watched the news from the reflection of the TV in my make up mirror.

It was all the same crap except  we had an earthquake I missed and a hurricane on the way. I muttered "Welcome to my world" and turned back over  (more exercising) and hit the off button on the remote.

The next thing  I knew it was time to pick up Massey from school. I wasn't through exercising so I rolled over again... hollered downstairs to Tim (who had one of his fancy smanschy paid days off) that if he would go pick Massey up I would actually get up and make some tuna salad...heck call me a Saint I even told him I would make the sandwiches.

 BINGO!!!  It worked like a charm, I only had to tell him twice it was time to leave to get her.

I started perkin' up after  the tuna sandwiches but it was short lived.

 I had another hot flash  so severe I wondered if perhaps I had a fever and crawled back into bed with my ceiling fan on high. Two hours later I had done a couple more of  the "Left side/  Right side" exercises and felt well enough to actually sit up.

HEAD RUSH!!!  Massey woke me from my coma and we went to store to buy dinner. It was already after seven so we decided on a pot of chili. Takes ten minutes to put together, another ten to simmer and then it's ready. I ate two bowls and headed to the couch. Cooking has never seemed so exhausting and I needed more of my "Left side/ Right side" exercises. Watched TV and fell asleep...once again.

I slept til noon today and woke up feeling like I had been on a cruise. I already have a tan so who am I to say I wasn't on a 36 hour cruise?

Sometimes you  have to de- compress. Sometimes you just have to let your body and mind rest. Sometimes you just have to let go and give not only your physical being but your emotional being a Stay-cation.

I woke up feeling and looking like my Boxer, "Ham."

Ready to face another day  knowing I have earned every wrinkle  I have, and  each one of them helps tell my story.

I may be wrinkled, I may have been at the bottom of the financial litter for a while...but I am a PROUD pup and  will always have my "Swagger."

Or as my husband says..."My PHD in BS."

Til next time...a "Refreshed COTTON."

"It's Like Butta..."

I worked another double shift today. I opened the store and had a great lunch. I was the only server besides the bartender, Oopsy and  made more money than I did on the evening shift.

This morning I had a party of four older women. The fist two to arrive got there early and said they wanted a table instead of a booth because they didn't want to have to bother the others when they had to leave the table to use the restroom. (I hear ya!)

Taking their order is like listening to their life story. Some tables sit down and say "We'll have a Mozzarella Caprese as an appetizer."

These women sat and one said "You know, I usually always order the Brie...it's delicious but we've been looking at this mozzarella caprese and it looks like it might be fabulous, what do you think? The brie is divine and I sometimes get it as my entree but this caprese just looks so appetizing, what do you think?''

I told them it was an excellent choice and once they tossed the idea around between the two of them they settled on it. After serving it another Ya Ya arrived and they told her how good the caprese had been.."It was divine, to die for."

They had already been there for an hour and decided to move on with the meal. Two of them debated between the cream of crab soup and the tomato soup. I stood there for a good two minutes before they made up their minds. When you are in your eighties, thirty minutes is like a nano second. The Queen Bee said "Dear, can you clean off this clutter of dirty dishes" (two bread plates) and I said I would do that immediately.
They were all dressed and accessorized immaculately... from earrings down to their support hose and comfortable flats. When they go out for lunch they go all out. Big earrings (probably clip ons) necklaces and bracelets. They all have that little hook you hang on a table to keep your purse off the floor and most have a really nice cane hung on the back of their chair.

This was followed by a discussion of whether the other one would show up and should they wait for her. I cleared their "Clutter" and came back to hear the Queen Bee announce "We'll go ahead."

They ordered salads and once the order was put in the last Ya Ya arrived. They described the mozzarella caprese to her with vivid detail and said "It was to die for."

These women know they are getting near to the end of the party we call life, but they ain't going out sitting in a corner..."Nobody puts Baby in a corner" from Dirty Dancing came to my mind as I shuffled around their canes draped over the backs of their chairs and cleared more of the "Clutter."

Every thing was a discussion with this group. Every idea every decision and every order was tossed around the table and put up for debate.

I absolutely LOVE waiting on seniors...heck, I'm almost breathing down their necks! I felt like giving them my cell number to include me on their next excursion. "Just hit me up on your jitterbug...heck, we can all ride in my car and stick yawls handicap sticker on my windshield to get a good parking spot."

Once the soup went out it was another "That soup was like Heaven...I mean it...how do they make it so creamy and delectable?"
There's no "How's your plastic hip holdin' up Edna? That mole looks suspicious and who stepped on a duck or did one of us just fart?"

They are senior women but acting like sophomore women,  still going out to eat and meet once a month and not shy about taking all the time in the world to have a simple lunch ...milking it for all it's worth.
The first time I waited on them it started out strained but I won them over with my PHD in BS and by  the time they left  they loved me.

Now I wait on them every month  and love the heck out of them. I call them "Gettin' it Grannies."

I want to be old like that.

They stayed for three hours having soup and salad. They loved me fawning over them and to be honest I loved doing it.

In my opinion if you live to grow old, it must be in an upright and mobile position and you deserve all the respect you are due. I want to still have my mental faculties and have the option of bitching when I want to and everybody still smile at me.

 What they do behind my back won't matter unless I catch them doing it.

At least I already have my ears pierced and won't be wearing clip ons. The support hose sound wonderful..I already own two pair.

Sweet Sixteen...

 Sixteen years ago today I was taken to the hospital by  ambulance and rushed into surgery for an emergency  C-section. My due date was October fifth but Massey couldn't wait...so in the wee morning hours of August nineteenth they pulled her tiny four pound body out of me and her journey began....at exactly 4:23 AM. She's always been an early morning riser, guess that first day stuck with her!

 Lucky for me, we have always been close. She has let me be her best friend for sixteen years  and I couldn't imagine it any other way.

 She's turned out to be a pretty terrific kid. She's not perfect but what kid is? She's a good mix of being amazingly mature  yet sweetly naive.

 I looked up the word naive and one of the definitions struck me as perfect for a good description of Massey..."Simple and credulous as a child; ingenuous."

Then I looked up the word incredulous and found another perfect description of her..."Openly straightforward or frank, candid."

Then I looked up the word candid and found my daughter was in the dictionary once again..."Unprejudiced; impartial. Open and sincere."

She has bad qualities too...sometimes she pops off at the mouth or gives me "That" look before thinking her words through carefully (I wonder all the time where on earth she gets that...hmmm?)

The ole apple doesn't roll too far from the tree.

I just wish I had been a beauty like Massey  when I was sixteen...I mean she has boobs and everything! I was a stick figure with a big mouth, a skinny boy body and a boy hair cut to match.

 It's a good thing I was funny as a kid too.

I raised two boys before I raised Massey. Boys are great too...very low maintenance and  never need tampons or eyeliner. When they are little buy them Pokemon cards, get them a PlayStation when they hit fourth grade and after that don't bother them unless you have to.

 I think they realize by middle school... most of them are going to end up being a husband one day and give up on  thinking at an early age to better their chances at getting a good looking woman to shove them down the path of life. At least when  looking over their shoulder  to say "You're right" they'll be looking at a pretty bitch.

With girls if you are lucky like me, they want you there every  moment and step of the way. You hear every detail...the good ones and the bad ones. You play referee a lot and you play the devil's advocate even more.

I'll admit women can be crazy and be the first one to say most of us are. I think it starts when we shoot a watermelon out our vagina during childbirth while our husband's all hand out cigars. That's a tough thing to get over...trust me.

So it's Massey's sweet sixteen. How did this day arrive so quickly?

I know some kid's get a stretch limo and a night on the town for their big day, Some kid's wake up to a new car in the driveway with a huge bow on it. Massey will be lucky to get the big bow.

But what's great is that she doesn't care...she's just "Super Excited" to turn sixteen. She's excited for what she should be excited about...turning SIXTEEN!!!!!

My boss is making her a triple chocolate layer cake for her big day and she is having a sleepover at  the house after we grill out.

She can be a pain and she can make my heart sing. She can make my day or make my day  really long.
She can make me smile or she can make me cry. As long as she can remember I love her, it's all good.

Happy Birthday, Massey Ann Cotton!!!

It's Never Too Early To Plan Your Funeral If You Want It Done Right..

 Went to another funeral today...when you get over fifty you attend a lot more funerals than weddings so you just have to make the best of a bad situation. One of my Diddy's high school friend's died. He  lived around the corner from us and their back yard backed up to ours. They had four kids...my parent's had three.

We grew up in a great little suburb of  southwest Atlanta and enjoyed a terrific experience as kids and teens. Everyone knew everyone and everyone knew every one's business. Back then it was called "Checks and balances." High school sports talk was more popular than political views. In my generation the kid's were the most important thing...that is one of the things wrong with our nation today. (In my opinion...which is always right, just ask my husband)

It was a graveside service today and I got there and parked. Being brought up right, I walked the long road around to the grave site instead of walking the short path across the cemetery. When I was little it was always a no-no to walk over graves. They were to be approached from the outside walkways and peered at from the bricks outlining the plot.

Number one...I will cremated. There is enough crap buried in our soil on this earth and it doesn't need me adding to the toxins. Number two I am thinking about this headstone for myself.  It can be placed in our family plot and they can scatter a few of my ashes over it. If I don't start  gaining weight there may not  be enough ashes to scatter but they can always have a cook out the night before and save some of the ashes from the charcoal.

 I also like this headstone...what a great way to advertise my blog! When I go it won't be possible to hold my funeral in a church. I want a keg and plastic cups by the front door before you reach the visitor's book. Maybe a box of wine for the old ladies...White Zinfandel would be my best guess.

I'm also liking this ice cream van thought. If you have to stand around in the sun it may as well be with a Nutty Buddy in your hand. Maybe I should advertise the ice cream van in my obituary. If I die in the summer it would boost my turnout tremendously.

My brother will emcee my funeral and be the headliner. He is the funniest person I know and that's the way I want to go out of this life...with lots of laughs. You cry enough in life... it's a tough road. When you leave it, it should be with smiles and laughter , funny stories and memories that will make every one smile and think fondly of you. (Hopefully)

My sister will be the opening  act and loosen up the crowd with stories from our past...and believe me there are tons of them. I'll have to save them all to a flash drive because her memory is terrible but once reminded of something it all comes back to her.

My sister and I always sit together at funerals but as of late she hesitates to sit by me because I seem to find humor anywhere ...no matter what the situation. In my opinion the worse the situation , the greater  need  for a smile!  Come to think of it,  THAT would be a great epitaph!

I've gotten pretty savvy at this funeral thing and told my sister we need to look at the guest book so we will have a heads up on all the people that recognize us before we recognize them. We were at one recent funeral and after cruising through the pages of the guest book before taking our seats my sister saw a guy coming down the aisle of the church with a beard a foot long and sunglasses on. She asked me "Who is HE?" I said quietly said "He's the lead singer for ZZ Topp.' We couldn't stop laughing for a good ten minutes.

 It didn't help that the singer was a nervous wreck and sounded like Peter Brady going through puberty. I will not have anyone singing at my funeral unless Adele or Nora Jones agree to sing.

I don't mind funerals at all.
It is the last time you can show up for a person and it mean the most.
Taking time out of your day and life to  let another person know you have made an effort to come show your respects....in my book means a heckuva lot.

You can always send a card later, but it never means as much as  looking up when one of your loved one's have died and see people from your childhood , workplace or high school  walk up and give you a hug in your time of despair. It is a mighty feeling and one that genuinely means something and will be remembered.

I currently have my funeral plans saved on my computer. I am specific and I am firm. No tears unless they are from laughter. No regrets...they don't matter, that's why they are called regrets. I want to go out with laughter and even a few gasps. I want people to remember me the way I lived not the way I died.

The funeral today was a sweet service and very emotional. He was a veteran and the Navy was in full  attendance. His grandson stood graveside in  full military dress...standing stoically throughout the service and never moving a muscle, hands folded behind his back and  feet firmly planted.

He presented his grandmother the folded flag and I was  reminded once again how proud I am to be an American.

It was a proud moment to be there. It was a moment  I was glad I didn't miss.

Till next time...COTTON

And I Thought Women Were Smart...

I was talking to my sister earlier tonight about two women I waited on at work a few weeks ago. One of the women is a regular and she brought her friend in for her birthday. The friend recognized my name and said she went to the same high school  I did but graduated before my sister. My sister is seven years older than me and is fifty eight.

The woman treating  her friend to lunch said buoyantly  "Guess how old she is! You'll never guess... she looks GREAT for her age! Go ahead and guess, you'll never believe it! Go ahead..just take a guess!"

I may be stupid but I'm not THAT stupid.

I felt like saying "Could I guess her weight instead?"

Thinking carefully and choosing my words wisely ... knowing she was older than my sister,  I said "I'd say you are fifty nine."

My regular customer proudly corrected me and said "She is sixty four!! Can you even believe it?"

I think the snow white running shoes that had obviously never seen a track or trail and the blue jeans with an elastic stretch band confirmed my original mental guess but I thought to myself...  "What is this woman thinking, asking me to guess the age of a woman who looks pretty good...but looks her age?"

I once asked a woman years ago when her baby was due and learned to never do it again . Been there...done that and I felt bad for weeks. On the upside maybe she started doing sit ups before she went to bed. Am I a helper? YES I am!!

Women, especially in the south... don't mind helpin'.

I was reminded of this fact today at work. I was at work for a twelve hour shift when Mr. Menopause caused me to start my lately always erratic cycle two weeks early and without warning. Some months I go without a cycle and then suddenly I have two in a month. Tim came to bring me a couple of plugs and I handed him a twenty and asked him to buy dog food on his way home. I handed him a lottery ticket I  bought on the way home from work last night  and said "You can check this ticket too, maybe we won."

He replied, "It wasn't a winner."

I asked if he had found it in my work apron and checked it before I left for work and he said "No one won  last night."

The owner's wife of the restaurant I work for was standing next to me,  and with arms folded and her head bobbing up and down like a bobble head doll said "Have you checked to see if you MAY have at LEAST won a free ticket...have you  thought about THAT?"

Tim looked at me with a look on his face that said "You need to work less...now I know where you're gettin' it!"

We laughed about it for at least two hours. By "We" I mean the women at work. The owner  simply said " Tell Tim, welcome to MY world."

You gotta love southern women...if you don't,  you  either live a life sentence with them or serve a life sentence for killing 'em... and don't think any of  OUR friends will  come  visit you ...  and look out for sharp  shooters in the excercise yard, we're a mean bunch when we're pissed!

Til next time...COTTON

Hot Time Summer in the City...

These gliders are one of the  precious memories I have about summer in the south. EVERYONE had one. Almost all of them had been painted over several times but  never seemed to quit "Gliding" and most had the rocker to match. You sat in them and just passed the day looking out over the neighborhood. People sat in them for hours on end. The nosy woman who lived next door to us sat in her glider at least ten hours a day and knew every thing about every neighbor...and what she didn't know she made up (and us kids believed her.)

Summer wasn't as hot back then (proving the Al Gore theory.) We grew up without air conditioning in our cars, which also didn't have seat belts and never had central air in our house. We considered central air the attic fan  in the ceiling of the hall that ran from the kitchen in the front of the house to the back where our bedrooms were.

Houses were built differently then. They were built for cross ventilation, every bedroom had three windows and our living room had two huge picture windows that were always open. Heck...our front door was always open and  only locked when we went on vacation. I never remember it being too hot to fall asleep or too hot for Mama to cook dinner.

I plan my meals...the two a month that I cook around not having to turn on the oven. I used to cook on our grill but it rusted away when our financial good standing did and has yet to be replaced. I cook on the stove top but try to deter from turning the oven on. How my mother survived hot flashes in a house with no air conditioning totally amazes me. Hot flashes must have increased as well with  global warming because I know for a fact she would have been a puddle on the floor of our kitchen if she felt the way I do now...and WE have central air.

My hot flashes started about a year ago and have increased along with the facial hair I now have. I went to get my hair cut the other day when I received my $6.99 coupon in the mail. With a hundred percent tip I walk out spending less than fifteen bucks. My kind of a hair cut...and it's not even a barber shop! The woman who cuts my hair is young, in her mid twenties. The first time she cut my hair she cut it exactly like I wanted so I wanted to remember her name. When you have a short hair cut there isn't room for mistakes so you gotta stick with a good hair stylist when you find one...especially for seven bucks! She said her name was Samantha and to help me remember she told me her mom was a big fan of Bewitched and that's where she got her name. The next time I got it cut I just walked in and she was working so all I had to do was point and say "I want that woman to cut it."

When I went to get it cut the other day I called while I was in my car on  the way to have my name put down for a hair cut. It's a walk in only salon but I wanted to try anyway. When they answered I was caught off guard while maneuvering traffic and was stuck for the girl's name. The Bewitched association came back to me and I asked "Is Tabitha working today?" The woman sounded puzzled and said "Excuse me?"  I realized I was off by one generation and quickly said "I mean Samantha."

When I walked into the salon they all looked up and one woman said "Are you the one that just called?" I wanted to say no but wanting to save my spot in line, just nodded yes. Ole Sam gave me another great cut and had the electric razor in her hand trimming around my ears and neck when she suddenly made a quick pass across my cheek.

Guess she saw something there  that needed trimming  too and  was just glad  she never made mention of it or included a charge for the shave. For fourteen bucks I can put up with a little humiliation and just thankful this young girl is looking out for my best interest.

So now I have constant hot flashes and am growing a beard at the age of fifty one...sounds sexy  don't it?

It ain't easy growing old but it beats the alternative!!

Til next time..."Hairy Cotton"

It's Hard to Keep Up When You're Old...But I Try!

Just got home from work and it was another good shift. Everyone drank wine and most all ordered appetizers and even a few desserts...that always helps my cause!

The last two shifts have helped me get back on track. In my world that means back in the black in my checking account. Red must be my favorite color because that's where I spend most of my time.

I was at the bar at work tonight and one of the regulars was talking about trying to access an  account he rarely used and said after answering his security question was told his answer was wrong. He said he tried again and the answer was wrong again.

You know me, I piped right in "I know what you mean, I logged into my checking account today and they told me my answer was wrong when I KNOW it was right. After two tries I logged out of FireFox and went back in on Internet Explorer and got right into my account with the same exact security question answer...I think someone was trying to hack me."

Never one to be ashamed of small steps forward I said "Hey... I have $1.41 in that account and don't think I'm not keeping a close eye on it!" He laughed,  thinking I was being funny when in fact I was sorta bragging. It's taken me over a week to get my balance up to $1.41 and I was feeling pretty good about it.

Small steps are better than NO steps and I'll take what I can get. It's getting better every day and before you know it, BLACK will be MY permanent status in the banking world. I know my bank will be pissed, I've probably built them two new branches with my NSF fees and should be thrown a party by the evil bankers that shove the big check through first so all the little ones bounce too.

On another note, the heat has been oppressive here in the south the past two days. Granted I am fifty one and break into a sweat at two in the morning while sleeping under a ceiling fan on high in a house that is air conditioned and has the thermostat set to seventy seven. Before I started having hot flashes the thermostat never went below seventy eight but "A menopausal woman's gotta do what a menopausal woman's gotta do!"

I  thought child birth was rough...that was a walk in the park on a nice breezy day compared to what my body is going through now. Thank God I'm still skinny...at least being in the red for two years is good for something. I couldn't imagine being a big girl going through the change...it must be absolutely horrible!

At work I wear long black pants and a three  quarter length shirt, covered by a work apron. I start sweating the moment I walk out of my house and don't stop til I get back home and peel off my pants socks and shoes and slide into my flip flops and daisy dukes with a tank top (my daily summer outfit.)

At work the other day I asked the owner why we couldn't wear skirts and he said we could. Dang...I must have missed THAT employee meeting!

 The next day Massey and I went to Ross Dress For Less, which she and I call Ross Mess For Less. It's a great place for bargain shopping but everything is mis- sized misplaced and it's like a hunt to find something without an OBVIOUS flaw but if you spend time you save a bundle and look pretty good unless you run into Paris Hilton on the street.

Massey found me a skirt for six bucks that was labeled a size five but fit my size zero body perfectly and was the exact  length of my work apron. "BAM!"

I am already tan enough from the hours I spend doing yard work to not have to wear hose but on the downside now I had to shave my legs. When I was younger I shaved my legs every day. Now I make myself feel better by thinking that the prickly hairs help keep my socks up...nobody likes having to hike their socks up every fifteen minutes and mine stayed up as long  I had them on, even if they were my husband's and way too big.

I walked into work with my skirt on and it was like an entirely new world. Of course I got a couple of stares from the kitchen help but I think they were just jealous. Where I stand in the kitchen is ninety degrees. The other side of the line where they cook is at least a hundred and twenty. Sucks for them... but it is incredibly cooler for me. I told the owner I felt so good I didn't think I needed ANY days off now...I could work seven days a week in this new outfit. If he could just lower the lights in the dining room where my varicose veins  didn't show so bad I might even make better tips!

In life you have to take the good with the bad. In life you have to make the best of the cards you are dealt. In life you have to go with the flow or be swept into the drain. In life you have to make lemonade with the lemons thrown your way and be grateful for the love you receive and  love  too often taken for granted.

One thing I HAVE learned is to  remember... ALWAYS remember your life is a heck of a lot better than millions and millions of other's.

Count your blessings, name them one by one and you will see what The Lord has done.

 He's done a bunch for me and I feel pretty good about the strides I am making as well.

Til next time...COTTON in a skirt!