The British are Coming!

Massey had a friend from England come stay with us Clampetts this past week. She's a beauty inside and out! I absolutely loved her accent although made me sound even more like a hick in comparison but have been called a lot worse. Massey used her airport badge to go past security , meet her as soon as she cleared customs and pick her up at the international terminal.

I told Massey since they were so close to downtown ATL to take her to Little Five Points to window shop and explore before heading home. I figured once she saw all the freaks which are L5P our family would seem a lot less crazy when she met us!

She was going to stay in Massey's old bedroom which hasn't changed since she was a little girl and let her pick out colors for the walls. (Hideous to say the least)

A couple of the Lost Boys have stayed in it from time and TJ for a while after moving back from Australia. I always consider that room free room and board so never bother to dust or vacuum. It was disgusting but never make a free room look too good...they'll never want to move out.

Our blind boxer, Ham got shut in there one night by accident when we all left and by the time we got back home an hour later had scratched through one complete side of the door. I knew I had to replace the door. The door's always open so never had to look at it and certainly never crossed my mind to replace it.

The dust and dirt I could clean up and had clean new sheets for the bed but knew when she shut that door for the first time would think someone had been held captive in the room and may panic herself, hitch hike to the airport and hop the next jet back across the pond.

I asked Zach to measure the door and bribed another Lost Boy to go pick up a door from the Habitat for Humanity ReStore in his big ole pickem up truck and help Zach put it on. Of course they didn't go where I asked and ended up paying  more for the door but at least was brand new (and Zach paid for it anyway). Guess I couldn't complain so was happy to pull into our driveway from the grocery store seeing the old one already off and outside in the garage. This was two hours before our British friend was to arrive.

I started dinner and went upstairs to see how things were going. I was excited to see the door attached only missing the door knob. A door knob doesn't take an hour to put on, even with Lost Boys doing it.

I pulled the door shut (or tried to) and hit the frame, needing about a quarter inch less to shut completely.

Are you kidding me?

The Amish Lost Boy  (what we call him) with the pickem up truck said "Wait til winter when it's cold and wood shrinks, bet it'll shut then."

So she now had a clean room to sleep in, a new nice door to (try and) shut without a door knob but a nice three inch round peep hole instead.

This poor girl wouldn't make it twenty four hours with us clowns, I was sure of it now.

The Lost Boys got the door knob put on about five minutes before Massey and her friend got here. I put a weight in the floor so she could at least almost shut the door for some privacy.

We grilled out hamburgers and the Lost Boys ate with us too. Trial by fire I say, may as well get her used to our weirdness right from the jump!

Just like the perfect guest she brought us gifts.  Tea Biscuits in a beautiful can and a nice box of English Tea. I'm already liking this young girl.

Next time our close buddy ole Queen Lizzy comes a calling (again) at the Clampetts, we'll have a spot of tea with Her Highness instead of cokes and cheetos!

Massey took four days off work and showed her friend around Atlanta, Warm Springs, The Little White House, Pine Mountain and beautiful Senoia where my sister lives. They did Zoo Atlanta and even got a lube job at the Varsity!

I wasn't around much, actually worked most every day she was here but seemed to really enjoy their week together.

One night while she was here, at work  had three really nice Brits at my table. I told them about our visitor and what city she was from. One of the men said (cheerily as all Brits do) "You be sure to tell that Yorkshire miss to sing 'Ilkley Moor Bar Tat' for you!! Of course I had to write it down to remember but when got home from work found them in the living room watching Netflix and announced what song I wanted to hear her sing.

She laughed, declined the offer to sing and said was a "Dreadful song anyway."

I'm not so sure about that. I found this awesome video on Youtube!

One whirlwind of a week later, Massey took her back to the airport. They were tearing up before they even left the house.

Needless to say I'm now friends with her and her mum (as they say) on Facebook!

It was great for her and Massey to have a week together after a year apart and think the visit was a complete success, especially being thrown in with the Clampetts!


A lot has been going on at work too.

Our wonderful General Manager took a new job outside of the restaurant industry to have more time with his wife and six month old son. Can't blame him but sure will miss him.

He's German so seemed fitting to get our leader a present he'd remember me by.

Our executive chef got a promotion to our midtown location and left about a month ago.

Times and things change. Sometimes it's easy, sometimes it's not.

Then I found out the manager who originally interviewed, hired  (but terrified me at first) and took a chance on me was leaving too. Same story, he has a wife and little girl under two years old. My old GM was the good cop. This one was the bad cop but an excellent one!

He'd see me doing something wrong or not the right way and call me on it every time and time and time again when I first started.

I finally realized it was a compliment from him (happening so often) and that he was not only managing, but teaching me.

I will be eternally grateful to him for showing, sharing and teaching me professionalism in my ( obviously) chosen field.

So his last day just rolled around too and was even more prepared. He's from Bosnia. Hey, I can do Muslim too!

I ordered him a turban off Amazon and was going to get Massey to bling it out with his Bosnian nick name in rhinestones. It would be my last day working with him. I knew he didn't eat pork but figured he could wear a picture of it so also ordered him a Looney Tunes Tee shirt with Porky Pig in the center  saying "That's all folks!"  He actually wore the turban and  tee shirt out when he left the restaurant. That made me feel good. As he so often said "That's awesome!"

I've had some great managers over the past thirty six years but this guy ranks right up there!

I was a mess when I took this new job. Our family was still struggling to recover from a five year financial debacle, was terrified to change jobs and totally out of my league at the new gig.

I worked harder than I ever have at learning a new job, and had to. It's what's expected of you from this restaurant group... but you know what?

This old dog can (and did) learn new tricks!

It wasn't easy with the Bosnian watching my every move, always correcting in a positive reinforcing way teaching me things vitally needed to be the best server you could, but did the smart thing.

"Listen and learn."

And I did.


Sometimes you have to roll with the punches. Sometimes you have to throw a few but never stop swinging, regardless.

We're gonna make it now thanks to love from family, about a hundred folks, two great new jobs and a lot of new friends.

Love is an awesome thing.

Til next time...COTTON

Happy Fourth on the Fifth

If I had to wear a 4th of July shirt I'd pick this one. It's clever...and true, America's got my back. I'm proud to be an American.

It was slow yesterday and today at work but was to be expected. On the up side we ate good, had more than a few laughs and still managed to walk out with well over a hundred dollars each night. The next couple of days will the  precursor to flat out craziness which (lucky for me) occurs every July through November in the international terminal of the world's busiest airport.

And I'm ready!

Looking sharp ain't I?

Not bad for fifty five and (hard to believe)  haven't even bought one fashion magazine since the seventies!

My daughter has a friend from England coming to visit for a week here at the Clampett/Cotton compound day after tomorrow. I was kind of worried.

Number one I can't even imagine being able to fly Massey to England and  give her spending money for a week just to visit a friend she met last year while doing a gig as a counselor at Girl Scout camp last summer and number two they're paying all that money to send her to live with us for a week.

I randomly asked Massey on the way home from work the other night... "She knows we're not rich, right?"  Massey didn't get offended, seem ruffled one bit just happily (while Snap chatting) chirped back "No, she knows all about us".

I wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing?

It's not like she's visiting the White House, she's visiting our house!

 I took mental inventory and decided it was okay. It's not a dump but it not's a palace. If you want a roof over your head, laughter and love all around you, it's a proverbial mansion. (if you don't look too close or open closets)

I think the kid will go back across the pond in a week knowing the REAL America.

Good people who can survive bad times, have a few battle scars but also have a chance to rebound and move ahead if you give it your all.

I have two days to prepare and always work better under pressure.

I think it's gonna be fun having a Brit here for a week.

Stay tuned...COTTON

You Gotta Roll With It

Sometimes, no pretty much all the time it helps to laugh about things especially when you're sad and can't do anything to change it anyway. Why not try to find some humor?

Our General manager got a new job outside of the restaurant industry and most likely will never see or talk to him again. Tonight was the last shift I worked with him. I totally understand it's what's best for him and his family. They have a six month old boy now,  and will be able to spend a lot more time at home and on a normal weekday schedule. I'm glad for him but sad for us.

I've had a lot of good managers over the years and only a few bad ones but he is hands down the best GM I have ever been fortunate enough to work for. The really cool thing about my job is that all the managers are great and is a pleasure to see any number of them there.

They are all friendly, extremely knowledgeable and continuously encouraging rather than demanding. When I got this job, I really hit the server jackpot.

Of course there are always two or three you mentally roll at when seeing their name on your scheduled shift but the restaurant bunch is  an eclectic one to say the very least.

I think that's why I love the profession so much, it's right up my alley.

It's a job where you have a lot of control over what you make. Do the job right and the job will do you right. (most of the time anyway)

Waiting tables is nothing more than a crap shoot. You can walk out with a pocket full or you could crap out. After over thirty five years think I have become a pretty good gambler. Of course I have my off nights but more often than not walk out more than satisfied, especially with this job.

I've been given, taught and learned more information, tools and methods than I ever knew existed to improve my odds and is a blessing beyond belief, especially at this point in my way over halfway done life.

It was a rocky start for me in fine dining at this age but after four months felt pretty stinking confident and now over a year later have amazed even myself.

Being a really good server should be at least some type of college degree is all I'm saying.

Our GM waited until he had less than a week left before he let the kitchen staff and front of the house know. I was devastated but knew what I had to do.

Make the best out of a bad situation.

Our Manager is from the midwest but of German descendants. I had three days until I last worked with him and spent quite a bit of time finding the best going away present for him. Number one I don't have a whole lot of spare money and number two didn't have a lot of time left.

I found the perfect gift on Amazon for around ten bucks with two day shipping. I gave it to him when we were alone in the hallway out back of the restaurant. On the card envelope had addressed it to "Unser Kommandeur" (our commander)

I handed him the gift wrapped box and told him it wasn't much but something his little boy might find on a shelf in one of their closets some day when he was seven or eight and beg to have. I only asked that he keep my cell number and send me a picture of his boy wearing it. Then hugged his neck, thanked him for being such a great boss and told him once again how much I would miss him.

As he carefully unwrapped it (he's a neat freak too) told him my daughter would never forgive me if he didn't let me take a pic with my cell to show her, she's as crazy about him as I am and has only worked there maybe six or seven weeks. That's how great a guy he is.

Yes he now has a German Officer's Hat, complete with chin strap and you can't tell me when his son finds it one day won't think it's the coolest thing ever!

When I was online buying it the other night my son Zach (who's birthday is Monday) came in the room, looked at the computer screen and said "Whoa! If your boss doesn't want it, I do!"

When he walked out of the room I changed the quantity order to two. Can't wait to see Zach's face when he opens it on his birthday.

Life goes on  (if you're lucky) but you just have to roll with it. Yes it's a gamble.

What isn't?

Til next time...COTTON

Last Respects Mean A Lot

This is a picture of my parents Sunday School class in front of East Point Christian Church where they raised me, my brother and sister. This photo is from the fifties when I wasn't even a twinkle in my parents eye yet.

I grew up in this church and remain friends with probably almost a hundred of them. It was awesome to grow up in East Point during the sixties and seventies. I'm almost fifty five now and have outlived not only both my parents but many of their friends as well.

Today I paid my last respects to the woman in this picture, one of my mother's dearest friends. That's me in the inner tube behind her and her son, who is also now in his fifties. Our two families always went on picnics together on Labor Day to "Seabrook" a man made lake. This is the woman who taught my mother how to drive a car when she was probably in her late twenties.

That's my mother on the other float with the jet black hair. At least she learned how to drive but never learned how to swim. I think this is the deepest water we ever saw her in and trust me those feet were touching the bottom.

I was a pretty lucky kid.

No, I was one of the luckiest kids on earth!

My sister and brother make fun of me for never missing a funeral  and have brought my daughter up the same way. My sons just waited to hear about it. I'm a talker and repeater. By the time I get through telling and retelling a story, you feel like you were there!

They call it "paying your last respects" because is.

You can wait until the next time you run into one of the remaining relatives in a grocery store or gas station and tell them how sorry you were then or you can show up now when that person needs to be hugged tightly by a friend who respected them enough to show up and make them smile as they say one last good bye to their own loved one.

It doesn't mean as much two months later in Kroger or when you're running late for work at the gas station and see them. You simply missed that last chance. (and I try not to)

It's nice to see these people who have been in your life since 1960. You share stories and catch up, sometime tear up and sometimes crack up in laughter. It's a celebration of life. It's not really a sad time.

It'd be a sad time if they were horrible people who were on the way to damnation in hell but they weren't and aren't.

They earned a prize of Heavenly reward and hit the Big Guy's lottery. Not a bad way to go if you ask me.

I got to see and hug my mother's other remaining best friend and swap info and numbers.

Yes the times are changing and charging ahead but never forget your past or the people who were in it.

 It's where you came from and part of the reason you are who you are, and lucky for me is a great thing. I had two great parents and still have a great brother and sister. All the other wonderful people I've met along the way are simply gravy...and I love me some gravy!

Til Next time, COTTON

High Five!

Well that was a long half decade! The good news is that seems to be all behind us now. I can't tell you what a relief it is to have enough money to not only pay our bills but pay them all on time.

After well over a year at both our new jobs my husband and I have finally scraped and scrounged our way back to the middle. It feels (and seems) incredible!

It's far from ideal. Tim is living and working a thousand miles away from home for a couple of years and I'm here with the kids and pups. With all we've been through, it seems a small price to pay. Of course that's easy for me to say,  still living at home and having our king size bed all to myself. The dogs sleep on his side of our bed now. He's sleeping on a twin size bed in a rented room he found to rent off Craigs List from a guy who's last name is Bundy. I told him I hoped his first name was Al not Ted.

I think God sent Tim to Texas for two years to have a vacation from me. God's pretty smart.

It got ugly for a while and (honestly admit) most of the ugly came from me most of the time. I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed but have a pretty sharp tongue with rapid fire comebacks that sometime (often) cut to the quick. Trust me, he needs about two years away from me.

He's been gone since late February but finally gets to come home for a week on July 25th.

Our kids are all excited and as a bonus he will get to meet his new grand daughter for the first time.

I'll be the first to admit (unless you ask him first) it's been nice to have a little time away from each other. Things were said in the heat of the moment (which happened to last five years) and needed to simply take a step (or thousand miles) away from each other and remember why we fell in love in the first place.

He was extremely handsome, honest, hard working and for some strange reason liked my bossy firecracker sometimes (often) cannon ball self. Almost three decades later, I'm still bossy and he's still honest, hard working but now totally a silver haired version of the man I married.

Maybe I'll highlight his hair for him when he comes home...sure works for me!

When the economy tanked over two decades later he suffered hit after hit in his field of logistics and trucking. After the second (absolutely) out of his control hit, the anger began to simmer. Two years later it began to boil. Then it all boiled over...and you women out there know what a mess that makes on your stove top.

Here's the thing. I'm a server and not bragging think am a pretty good one. People with money will always go out to eat...and they did.

Now we're finally on an equal playing field (albeit a thousand miles apart) but still together.

If you don't have bad times, how do you know when you have good times?

We are extremely fortunate and know the difference now.

Tim's still the one.

Much help from God, family and friends sure didn't hurt either. I have a lot to pay forward and look forward to it.

Til next time, COTTON

Okay So This ISN'T A Dream ?

All I can say is "Wow!"

It's brutally hot here in the south  right now and by the time I park at work, fast walk to the Sardine Shuttle (bus) get through security and clock in at work am already sweating like a four hundred pound woman being made to hop on one leg while wearing a zipped up velour running suit under a full length mink coat complete with hat, scarf and gloves...inside a sauna. I got to work fifteen minutes early to eat my leftovers from last night out of my nifty six buck lunch box in the hallway out back of the restaurant. I sat on a big box of bread on the floor barely making a dent in it and woofed down my dinner from last night while I studied my wine index cards... still sweating.

The restaurant group I work for has mission statements, one of which happens to be "Learning and growing" and constantly push my tired tiny brain. (yes my brain's skinny too)

The new wine list comes out in a week or so and am frantically trying to learn them all well enough to properly sell, serve and be familiar with. I used to think wine in a box was good.

We have a menu meeting every day before work and lately have been about the new wines and involved some sort of contest or quiz. I started pitifully, started at least getting on the board with one or two good answers but finally almost knocked one out of the park today!

One lone server who shall remain nameless (we'll just call her Laura) is like a freaking knowledge sponge. She knows grape,  producer and region of pretty much every single wine, old list and new. She's as smart as she is big and have learned quite a bit from my plus sized friend.

Today was an elimination game. You were tossed a potato and had five seconds to name a new wine, or something about it then toss to the next person. If you couldn't come up with anything you were out.

Dang, I was one of the last two standing today! Me and my plus sized friend. We really are Lucy and Ethyl.

I am so grateful for this job, still seems like a dream but am doing everything I can to make myself a valued part of the team for as long as it lasts.


Tired tonight but have tons more to talk about. Thank goodness tomorrow is a day shift and can catch up on "Me- Bloggin".

              Til next time, COTTON

Hot Mess Heard!

It was a hot one today. It was in the mid nineties but cutting grass felt like it was well over two hundred. Cut and weed eated for three hours, came home threw together three dishes and packed them to go. Took a shower and got to the party a mere thirty minutes late.

The place I used to work had a reunion of old school employees at a local park. It was at least a hundred degrees when we got there. On the good side, no need for chafing dishes, every thing stayed plenty hot. One girl brought a butt load (small pun) of pulled pork and the rest of us all brought sides and salads.

We were all unloading our cars and dishes when one of my very besties came up and said "I just want you to know first, he's here."

It wasn't a shock.  I kinda figured he may come and was prepared.

My mental nemesis, my former manager who fired me from the steak place and spiraled us further into the five year abyss.

I smiled cheerfully at my bestie as we carried my food to the picnic area to add to the spread and said since was a pot luck dinner "That's okay, maybe he brought me an apology."

He didn't but that's okay too. I can hold a grudge like nobody's business and actually found out tonight it doesn't matter to me anymore.

What matters were the other twenty or so people there who loved me and me them!

It was hotter eating than it seemed cutting grass earlier and all melted like old candles but did it together and enjoyed every minute.

I honestly didn't give him being there a second thought (maybe one) and thoroughly enjoyed myself.

I really needed that job when I lost it and was a horribly depressing time in my life.

I don't need that job anymore.

We got this now.

The miracle of my life (I've finally realized) is that I'm still alive to experience it.

It was great seeing all these friends. It felt great to not need one of them to help me out financially. (and many did)

For the first time in well over five years finally felt okay with feeling proud to be a former member of this LongHorn family.

Fun in the sun and sweating with the oldies!

Til next time...COTTON

Nailing It

Got home from work a little after midnight. Number one they had a massive road block at the exit ramp and already were loading the paddy wagon full with violation offenders. Number two was glad I wasn't in my twenties anymore. Number three can't believe my almost twenty year old daughter has never gone through a road block. I asked her to reach in the back seat and get my license out of my nifty clear airport purse and asked if she should get hers out too?

The county was gettin' their bizzy on tonight. My son got stopped in one too coming home from his job thirty minutes later. Thank goodness my Lost Boy learned his lesson the hard way a few years ago and sailed right through just like me.

I write a lot about how great my new job is and how am making more than I ever have but trust me, I earn every stinkin' penny and then some.

I've worked harder at this job than I ever have before, not always physically but constantly mentally. I've learned about wine varietals, food I've never even thought about eating and even more about how to serve in a fine dining establishment.

I finally almost  get it all down and BAM they change the menu four months later. It's a seasonal European restaurant and change the menu four times a year. I have to know how each dish is prepared, where the product comes from and how it was caught or raised. I have (need) to know where each wine comes from, producer, grape and region.

When I first started waiting tables back in the late seventies all I knew about wine was that MD 20/20 was produced by Mogen David and came from the liquor store on Main Street that didn't check ID's.

My first serving job was for Red Lobster in 1979. I had to wear a blue polyester sailor dress complete with white collar, red tie and white shoes.

I can say with almost certain conviction after well over three decades of serving  "Then I learned the restaurant business and  learned it the hard way."

The photo above is from "Mildred Pierce" with Joan Crawford in the mid forties.

If you want to borrow it I have it. Is a must see, especially for servers.

Back in the day, Red Lobster was almost considered fine dining on the south side of Atlanta. We were all still just a bunch of red necks and going to Red Lobster was like being on vacation at the beach. They even had a drink called The Lighthouse and the glass was not only shaped like one but could take it home with you, to put in your cabinet next to the Flintstones jelly jar glasses you'd also accrued.

I managed to get fired and rehired three times but learned the business in my year or so with them.

Then I worked for Steak and Ale for a year or so. Cute short little plaid skirt, black tights and low cut peasant blouse...aah the eighties! It was the nicest restaurant on the south side for quite a while.

I went to work for a small pizza joint after about another year. It had about twelve bar stools and eight booths. I worked there for almost fourteen years and learned the rest of the business moving up to management and pizza slinger. Learned how to make dough, we grated our own mozzarella and made our own meatballs. It was an awesome place to really learn the business. I made a lot of good friends there, met my husband there and still consider those some pretty awesome years.

The owner became not only a good friend but quickly turned into my mentor. I'm still friends with both him and his wife and run into them occasionally.

Then I went to work for a big steakhouse restaurant which I now refer to as Western Sizzler. It was a great job for almost thirteen years, made good money and even a lot more good friends. I got fired for giving my daughter a free scoop of ice cream after she and her friends spent over fifty bucks on lunch one day. My manager who crazy enough was also considered a good friend knew my husband had been out of work for a while and barely getting by. He fired me for theft.

It was the nail in our coffin. We're still not back to where we were and has been well over five years. (and yes I can hold a grudge)

I landed in a family owned restaurant owned by some people I knew next. They hired me on the spot and can say for a fact pretty much saved my family.

They are both a little bit crazy (like me) so we got along just fine for well over four years. They helped me out so many times I can't even count. They loaned me money interest free time and time and time again when we needed it for bills and taught me even more about food and wine. I made even more good friends as well.

When I got offered a new job at the new international terminal of the world's busiest airport in an upscale European restaurant  simply couldn't afford to say no. I was terrified of leaving my comfort zone but on the brink of losing our home so had to take a leap of faith. I worked both jobs for over four months but wore me down quickly. That was the hardest resignation letter I will (hopefully) ever have to write. I remain friends with them both.

It took me a while to figure out and be able to appreciate but do know...

God did have a plan!

He gave us everything for over a quarter of a century then suddenly took most all of it away. He left us our three kids and my brother and sister, about two hundred fantastic friends and last but not least our three dogs.

That's evidently all we needed.

He also allowed us to meet some pretty awesome peeps along the road and every one of them rallied to our support.

Tim has a wonderful job now (albeit a thousand miles away) and I have one twenty five miles up the road. We're so close to being close to close it ain't even funny!

Everything you have today, what you have this very instant can be gone the next...literally.

If not having enough money is the worst thing that ever happens to you, consider yourself extremely lucky...because you are.

Til next time...Lucky COTTON

Tuckered Out (in a good way)

This past week has been kicking my ninety five pounds all over the place, from home to work and home again.

I've gotten so much done in the yards you can actually see all four sides of our house now. For five years I thought we were living in a triangle shaped house at best.

It's no Graceland or Biltmore House but sure feels like it being less than two years away from being paid off.

I hauled over five hundred pounds of river rock and lined the flower beds and walk ways, pulled weeds and put down pine straw. I even fancied it up a little out by where the trash can sits.

Work, the one I get paid for has been kicking my booty on a daily basis five sometimes six days a week for the past few weeks.

I absolutely love working in the new international terminal. It's so clean, open and serene amidst sometimes pure controlled chaos. That's my kind of place to work and love even more the wonderful place where I was lucky enough to land (small pun) a job.

It starts in early March, the madness and continues until well after Thanksgiving. Every day is a mental and physical sling fest and you know me, I love to fight!

Last year I was thrown into it after earning (what felt like) my brain surgeon status. I was lucky to just keep up but made more money than I ever had in my life.

This year I was ready...so I thought.

Since I feel and look so much older decided to highlight my hair to take away from my face. I've also taken voracious notes, asked hundreds of questions but still get my butt kicked at least four times a week (and that's a good thing) in my line of work.


Then I come home to an even harder job, running a household of three peeps and three pups.

I got some pretty dang good kids but have a few faults which drive me insane(er).

Here's a few facts am sure every momma endures with her kids and often rolls her eyes about.

Why do the kids have to swat a fly like they're trying to jack one out of the park? Half the time, if they are successful you can't even find the nasty little carcass or either they've smeared it to smithereens all over what ever the little buzzing nuisance landed on.

Approach, stand still and slowly tap with minimal force works just fine for me, haven't lost one carcass yet!

Next, why do they squeeze a tube of toothpaste like they're in an iron man competition? I promise it will come out just fine if you squeeze from the bottom and flatten the tube as you use it.

They have gotten better about throwing things away when done with or empty but nine times out of ten miss the intended  target by less than two inches.

They are both obviously missing the gene it takes to completely start, finish and put away a cycle of laundry.

A messy or dirty bathroom is no big deal to them. (disgusts me)

After living in the same house for almost two decades still put some things in the wrong place when unloading the dishwasher. (I'm just happy over three quarters of the job's done and never complain about this one)

They can't just tie a simple knot when taking trash out. I don't know how many times I've gone to add something to a bag of trash they took out and was like trying to open a Da Vinci code.

This one really irritates me and their dad was guilty of it too when still lived here at home.

Zach is unfortunately way too much like me and fortunately not like me both at the same time. It's like I gave birth to  Catdog twenty three years ago.

He's like having a house cat who loves to laze around but randomly has sudden unexpected bursts of freakish energy when you least expect but sometimes need the most. Guess I'll keep him.


Massey's my "Good Girl" and bestie for the most part except for the week Aunt Flo visits her. Are you counting? That's twelve weeks a year.

Aunt Flo never bothered me much when I was younger. Of course she never gave me boobs either.


I guess all in all I'm pretty stinking lucky. My kids watched us almost financially go under but even better, watched us not only keep going but make huge sacrifices to move up, ahead and beyond. None of them ever complained (or turned me in for check kiting) and were always supporting and encouraging. Heck they could have moved out and been fine on their own but chose to stay and help.

Ya gotta dance with one who brung you, otherwise it's giving up.

 We may be a lot of things but quitters ain't one of 'em. Loved is!

Til next time...COTTON