Monday, January 26, 2015


Do you have any of those?  Blogs you love to read but for some reason you just don't leave a comment?  

I have a couple of blogs where I do this that stand out.  Why I don't comment on these blogs I couldn't tell you for I rarely miss a post since I found them. Perhaps it is because I all ready have a bunch that I do comment on and my plate is full. 

7MSN is a jewel of a blog, especially if you love animals. I see a couple of familiar faces there so I know some of you have all ready found her.  Her photography is clever, her captions really amusing and often tell a short story.  7MSN stands for 7 Miles South of Nowhere and is located in  New Mexico. It is a short blog to visit but I come away smiling. 

Linda is a corporate drop out who has chosen a simpler life surrounded by an amusing cast of characters. Three donkeys ( I am enamored with Alan),  Hank, the really handsome horse, Smooch the protective dog , serious mouser Johnny Cash Cat, and the girls (chickens). The hard to dislike but feared villains are a roaming band of handsome coyotes that are getting too close.

Not a large cast but her clever sequence of captures and descriptions attached to the photos, never fails to amuse. I even bought her calendar this year that displays her cast of characters. She has a great camera eye that captures the varied personalities. 

If you love animals, need a quick lift from this crazy world and could use a smile, give her blog a look.  I don't think you will be sorry. Be nicer than me and leave a comment if you like the site.

Another that I follow but don't comment on is Murrmurrs.  I see a couple of my blog buddies there also so I know some of you are all ready readers. She has an off the wall, brilliant sense of humor about life with laugh out loud posts.

Lurking, which is what this process is called, is a little like stealing. I get to enjoy the work with out paying the price of a comment.  Kind of like reading a magazine over someone's shoulder. 

Yes I lurk on occasion and I enjoy it immensely. It is no pressure enjoyment. However I must feel some guilt and perhaps this post is my attempt at payback for my history of skulking in the shadows. It won't stop my lurking but is a tip of the hat.   I will continue to lurk away with a clear conscience.  

Do you have blogs you enjoy visiting but for some reason you don't leave a trace of your presence except perhaps in the stats?  Care to share with me your secret pleasures??  I am always looking for some new places to lurk. 

Monday, January 19, 2015


First off, I wish to thank each of you that stopped by to laugh at with me over my pratfall. You were so sweet with your good thoughts and kind words. They must have worked for I am a bit better this week. Chuckling no longer hurts but coughing or sneezing is still a no-no. Just need a bit more time to make it all the way back.

Thank you so much for your caring and support.  And oh yes, special thanks to several of you who made the cell phone suggestion. We don't have cell service here but I now take my cordless phone with me on the late night potty trips with Callie.  Simple and smart.


Recently I was telling a friend of mine a story of how facial hair on a man can be interesting but deceptive. She said I should blog about it so here goes. This is for you Julie.

I mentioned before that we moved a lot and I went to a bunch of schools. The good thing for me is that I was always the "new girl" which held a bit of mystique for the guys, thus upping my appeal. By the time that mystique wore off, we had moved again so I spent most of my school days surrounded by that useful aura.

We moved to Sarasota Florida in the middle of my junior year where I went from a school in Ohio that had 600 kids in 12 grades to a school that had 400 in my grade alone.

I was a bit shocked my first day of school by the immenseness  but also by a strange sight. I was use to different areas of the country having different customs, but a huge percentage of the male population in that school were sporting, or were trying to sport, beards, mustaches and sideburns. This was a new wrinkle.

At first I thought there might be a large Amish community near by but that was not the case.  I quickly learned that the boys were growing facial hair in support of the DeSota Pageant.

To celebrate the sad tale of Sara DeSota, ,daughter of Hernando DeSota, the local men--and boys-- grew Spanish beards several months before the pageant. Kind of like St. Patrick's day when everyone claims to be Irish.  This time all the males adopted the old Spanish look.  Thus the school was full of facial hair.

The pubescent teen boys proudly showed off their mascara enhanced sprinkles of lip hair, wispy sideburns, and occasional chin hairs, Some actually had lush and bushy beards. Men among boys.

I was early on wooed and won by a cute guy named George who sported a very impressive full beard. George also drove a brand new 56 Chevy which increased his appeal. Yep, I was shallow enough to be swayed by the cool car and really masculine beard, so I became his girl.

We went steady for about a month but then a strange thought hit me as the annual shaving of the beards approached.  I could only see part of George's face. I had no idea what was under that luxurious beard. He could have no chin, serious scaring or even massive zits. I think I mentioned all ready that I was a shallow teen and dating an enigma was a bit scary.

As it got closer for the annual shaving of the beards, I let my fears best me and I broke up with him two weeks before the dead line just to be on the safe side. Ah, finally safe from the nightmare of the real George.

After the de-bearding, the halls were filled with unrecognizable fellows.  The first day I passed this really gorgeous guy in the halls who mumbled  "Hi Patti." I was immediately interested but couldn't shake off the feeling that while I didn't know him, he looked rather familiar. Then a guy slapped him on the back and said, "Hey George, you must feel 5 pounds lighter with that beard gone."

Sadly it dawned on me, that handsome devil was my former steady George. I kicked my shallow butt all the way to my next class.

No we didn't get back together. We had both moved on as teens rapidly do but it did start me thinking that people who stay in the shallow end, never learn to swim. From then on, I started looking for depths beyond the physical to explore. That was a good move.

Were you a shallow teen?