It’s another sticky day, as can be seen by the effect that high humidity has on my windows and on my mood. Normally, I do things to a higher standard than what you see here. However, this morning I just aimed my camera and did a couple clicks without caring how straight my images would line up. When winter comes, I’m hoping these pictures will remind me of how the warmer seasons can create cabin fever even more so than the colder months. At least in the winter it isn’t usually too hot to sleep. A wood stove can make the house too hot, but at least it’s not humid and you can open the windows for quick relief.

Never before has there been as many days of constant high humidity as this year is bringing. When you’re going through the season of life having to endure hot flashes (and men are the ones excused for bad behavior during a mid-life crisis?!?!),¹ sticky weather can make one cling to the air conditioner and keep going outdoors to a minimum. But, too much of anything is… well, too much!

Last night, I was entertained by a film production on television of Broadway’s fun-jammed all-black music show Cabin in the Sky. It got me thinking about how often people, once upon a time, used to sing happy songs. I woke up wanting to listen to hymns (I can’t sing, but I can dance). What happened instead — thanks to messing around with loading pictures onto my computer and digging through my file folders — I stumbled across George Bowser and Ricky Blue‘s rendition of Working Where The Sun Don’t Shine: The Colorectal Surgeon’s Song.

We praise the colorectal surgeon
Misunderstood and much maligned
Slaving away in the heart of darkness
Working where the sun don’t shine

Respect the colorectal surgeon
It’s a calling few would crave
Lift up your hands and join us
Let’s all do the finger wave

When it comes to spreading joy
There are many techniques
Some spread joy to the world
And others just spread cheeks

Some may think the cardiologist
Is their best friend
But the colorectal surgeon knows…
He’ll get you in the end!

Why be a colorectal surgeon?
It’s one of those mysterious things.
Is it because in that profession
There are always openings?

When I first met a colorectal surgeon
He did not quite understand;
I said, “Hey, it’s nice to meet you
But do you mind? If we don’t shake hands.”

He sailed right through medical school
Because he was a whiz
But he never thought of psychology
When he read passages.

A doctor he wanted to be
For golf he loved to play,
But this is not quite what he meant…
By eighteen holes a day!

Respect the colorectal surgeon
Here and now we’ll raise a glass
For the rectal surgeon like the rectum
Can’t tell a liquid from a gas

We praise the colorectal surgeon
Misunderstood and much maligned
Slaving away in the heart of darkness
Working where the sun don’t shine!

¹My husband didn’t understand what this meant, so since I had to explain it to him, I’ll repeat myself in case there are other guys who don’t comprehend it either. Women whose moods are affected by menopause are talked about negatively, but men who act like teenagers during a mid-life crisis are not. I don’t get it. What’s the big deal about being cranky (especially when you’re also tired) compared to such things as leaving your family for a younger woman and/or buying a new corvette convertible?

. . . it’s no wonder I hesitate to use emailing again.

I said hesitate. That doesn’t mean there is no chance I might give it another try.

This is how you know when you exercised your hands enough:

That’s what you’d call “getting a grip” on it!

Hi guys! I don’t have time to say anything other than “Hello!” My daughter is coming in the driveway with my grandchildren…

They’ve left now and left me these souvenirs to remember their visit today:

If you click to enlarge these photos, you will notice that little feet have entered this soft soil.

Two little grandchildren did some body surfing in these puddles before they got into the car and went home.

I really enjoyed today a lot. My grandson entertains me silly with how he reads books and loves to talk about mail!

My granddaughter and I had so much fun playing together and laughing! Nothing is better than having children!

What happens when you’re married to someone who doesn’t like money spent on cards for special days? Well, if you’re like me and you don’t care what the rest of the world thinks about your poor skill at writing poems, you slap one together and throw it online to surprise your mate! Here you go dear… this one’s for you by your Looney-Tunes love’n wife! —

My sweet Bugs, an odd couple we are!
So close… but yet seemingly far.

Will you bring me flowers, pink and red?
love me still, though we’re long wed?

Your fuzzy chest… so grey and cute,
stole my heart and kept as loot.

It didn’t happen overnight.
There were times you gave me fright.

Friction between us blistered our pride.
There was nowhere to run or go hide.

Love is not a feeling nor something to spoil.
It’s a lifelong commitment to be loyal.

It’s made towards only one —
whether or not there’s any fun.

I won’t recall my better days.
The past’s a trap anyways.

We’re together in what’s ‘now,’
God knows I’ll find out how,

…to be my best for you yet still,
before life’s over, that I will!

What can I give you, my sweet Bugs?
Lots of kisses and long warm hugs!

You’ve been my Valentine for years already,
that’s what helps make my life steady.

It’s not predictability that gets boring,
nor is it hearing your loud snoring.

The culprit of boredom is the wanting.
Instead of giving, my selfishness gets haunting.

Valentine’s Day is for lovers.
Let’s always stay under our same covers!

It’s kind of going through this season again…

whether it’s creating a new weblog design¹ or new post.

I think I’ll allow comments for a change, but who knows for how long? Special events pass quickly.

I’m curious what my readers think of the new look for this site. Please don’t feel offended if I don’t make more alterations that what I’ve already done.

If you’re experiencing slower than usual page loading, it’s not the software’s fault. It’s the hosting company’s poor management of accounts they’ve acquired. They offer no money-back guarantee for dissatisfied annual subscribers.

[Edit added 14 hours after publication time — This post went up before I went to sleep last night. This morning it's as if the web hosting fairy came while I was asleep. I'm stunned by how much faster the pages load on my site! How's that for a weird coincidence?!?!]

[Edit added 3 days after publication time — This morning I see that the speed at which the pages on my site load has slowed down a lot. I guess the hosting company's service is also like my mind too often. Some kind of indecision has to be going on somewhere with them, because it's not me that's causing big fluctuations in loading speeds from one day to the next!]

¹The theme’s name is Victorian Xmas. Mel Pedley developed it. I removed the Christmas season look and gave it a garden touch by adding ivy leaves. The delicate wildlife reflects my nature (although I probably write like a nasty critter sometimes).

On some Saturday evenings, Puzzles is busy warming up our guest’s jacket. She’d love to read a good book, if only her eyes would quit swirling around long enough to find one!

When it’s raining heavily outside, what else is there to do other than flatten out the cushions on the sofa tops?

Puzzles and Oliver are up on sunny days being entertained by the birds at their feeder.

Rascal is the third wheel. Good thing she has Goofy¹ to keep her company!

¹I’m goofy.

Four days have gone by since I accidentally did something stupid that I can now talk about, if I keep it brief and make fun of it. Most people like things brief, but maybe not goofy. Let me begin by not recommending Hydrochloric Acid for cleansing the eyes.

This → is not this! →

They both clean, but one puts redness in while the other takes it out. Besides redness, the one on the left can do all kinds of fun stuff. It can permanently blind you, cause glaucoma to develop, etc., but what it won’t do is enhance your sleep if you’ve got a hypersensitive nervous system!

Aspies are accident prone as it is, but imagine an Aspie functioning under sleep deprivation. It leads to more accidents, usually the kind that affect one’s ability to sleep, which then lead to more accidents. I think I’m safe if I stay on my chair here in front of my desk.

Since it’s genetically evident that Aspergers is not a form of autism, I propose a different spectrum. Call it the Aspectrum; call those on it Aspectrumites.

An aspect is a particular way in which something can be viewed by the mind. Neurotypicals don’t have aspects like Aspies.

A spectacle is someone noticeably unusual (different). High-functioning Aspectrumites would be those who conform to a neurotypical culture in a way that’s more satisfying to the NT standard. Low-functioning Aspectrumites would be enigmas (e.g., me) who are less influenced by NTs and more non-conforming,¹ so we’d be considered by others as functioning in a less comprehensible manner.

A spectacle is also something that can be seen or viewed, especially something of a remarkable or impressive nature. It’s remarkable to be able to see, especially with both eyes after one of them gets a dosage of a chemical that’s claimed to cause irreversible eye damage. Eye’m still irritated and sore at m’eye self. I speculate that someday soon my mind will spectacularly quit focusing on things related to you know what.

¹For example, in the case of emergencies (and non-emergencies too; e.g., childbirth), I don’t even go there where others can ask me questions. I’m the one who makes the inquiries (under my terms) and the decisions, especially when it comes to the body God has loaned to me for His use. As they say, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” My dad was just like me. So are eccentrics, according to David Weeks. He says, “In Great Britain, where health care is free, the average person goes to the doctor twice a year, while eccentrics will typically go for eight or nine years without seeking medical help.”

P.S. — My son just reminded me of another similar accident. His words were,

Remember when you put Sweet Breath® drops in your eye because you thought it was Visine®?

Nor is this for eye enhancement!

At our house, it kind of looks like this. ↓

What could be more entertaining than two rednecks socializing on Saturday nights?