From the Recesses of My Brain

I'm getting ready to fold my 112th load of laundry so we can start packing to head out of town for Thanksgiving.

While I've been taking care of errands and a sick kid home from school, I caught myself humming a song.

I recognized it, but couldn't place it.

It wasn't until I was humming it again later that I realized it was the theme song from The A Team.

Now that is a blast from the past.

It's amazing what decides to spit out 

from the recesses of my brain 

from time to time.

The A Team.


The only thing I can think that possibly dislodged that deeply embedded tune from the back of my memory is that Monte and I did discuss last week how someone he knows had a van painted to match the one in A Team.

And if I have accidentally caused you to hum The A-Team theme song,

don't even THINK about getting it out of your head.

It's locked in.

I can kinda see where the tune came from.

I watched the show as a kid.

It was a big deal.

But that wouldn't explain the dream I had the other night about McDaniel and I sitting in the backseat of a car with a little goat that we were goat-sitting and it got all nervous and started kicking the holy heck out of my stomach with both of its hind legs like a donkey.

I could FEEL it kicking me.

Realistically.

We finally got the goat home and all the neighbors came by to pet the goat and it got nervous again and started giving my shins the kicking business.

Again, I could feel the pain of its little goat hooves whacking my shins.

I told my prayer group my dream.

One of the moms in the group has a very sick daughter who explained her feverish dream of goats and having one as a pet.

My friend thought to herself,

"We can never ask Karmen to goat-sit!"

So that's something to be thankful for as we approach Thanksgiving,

a brain/memory that still surprises you with 

what its stored and retrieved

and friends that know your dreams so well 

they'd never make you goat-sit.

Happy Thanksgiving!

On Trying New Things for My Birthday

My birthday was this past weekend.

We decided to try out a restaurant in our area that has been open since the 60s.

And it seems it hasn't changed the decor.

It was dark and packed and very hard to read the menu without the flashlight on our phone.

But the seafood was great.

Our friend was our waitress 

and she took good care of us 

and our dinner choices.

On Sunday, we tried brunch at the university golf course.

The view was gorgeous but the food was just okay.

The girls got me this beauty:

It's a cookie jar!
Not sure I'll ever put cookies in it because the tail is hollow and who wants to clean
cookie crumbs out of a dinosaur tail?
But it just might be perfect for candy.
Wrapped candy.

Monte got me a facial I specifically asked for since I have a 50% discount at my salon.

It's 90 minutes long.

What in the world are they going to do to me for OVER AN HOUR?!

I hope make me look younger.

In an effort to milk all that I could out of my birthday,

I asked to go to a new ramen restaurant super close 

to our house for dinner.

Ellie and I had walked up there early this fall but were so confused and nervous and a wee bit grossed out by the pictures on the menu, that we ordered salads.

Monte and McDaniel we're not feeling adventurous AT ALL.

This from the girl who ate every piece of wild game 

she could when we were out west.

And this from a man who slurped down oysters 

on the half-shell Friday night like they were candy corn.

Ellie texted her friend who goes to the ramen restaurant all the time for meal suggestions.

We were told the chicken ramen would be a safe choice.

So Ellie and I ordered it.

Monte ordered fried chicken.

McDaniel ordered nothing.

As we waited for our food, 

Monte and McDaniel expressed their displeasure.

I got a little nervous when our chicken ramen was delivered.

It doesn't make a good first impression.

In the upper left-hand corner was a piece of seaweed.

And yes, that's a hard boiled egg.

I never did figure out what the black noodles were 

beyond slightly crunchy.

They brought out panko breaded chicken separately that we dipped into the broth.

Monte decided that's what he'd do with his fried chicken too.

In a rush of sportsmanship, Monte, picked up a chopstick, stabbed a piece of chicken and shoved it into my bowl.

Over and over and over again.

There was broth all over the table.

McDaniel decided to be a "try-er" and ordered a chicken ramen as well.

It was good!

Both the girls commented on HOW salty it was.

I hadn't noticed.

But it caught up with me.

By the end of the night, I had to take off my ring.

By morning, I couldn't make a fist because my fingers looked like sausages.

Even my eyelids were swollen.

But we all tried something new

and that was a great birthday gift.

The Renewing of My License, Not My Mind

While I was at the polls to vote on election day, I looked at my license and realized it was going to expire in 4 days.

I decided to take care of that right away.

It was on the way to the license branch that I noticed the mustard and tomato stain on my shirt.

I tried to get it out with spit and some water from an old water bottle in the car, but it made things worse.

Much worse.

Monte and I were shocked at how quickly we were in a out of the polls.

Not so much at the license branch.

I had plenty of time to chat with the young gal in front of me.

She had just waited 1 hour and 20 minutes to vote and was now waiting to renew her license.

Rough.

When it was finally my turn, the worker lady helping me had me look into the eye exam machine.

I was really struggling to make out the letters and the numbers.

They were so small!

She told me to step back from the machine.

She looked at me and said,

“Remember? I told you to also tell me 

where the flashing light is!”

There was a flashing light?!

I tried again and actually saw the light this time.

“Oh! There it is!”

She reminded me that I had to tell her where “there” was.

When I was done she told me it was okay, I wasn’t the only one who couldn’t multitask.

She asked me a series of 462 questions that she’s probably asked more times than I can count.

Did I have any warrants for my arrest?

Was I addicted to any substances?

Was I under the influence of a substance right then?

What was that stain on my shirt?

Just kidding on that last one.

She went over the information on my old license.

Was my height the same?

"Well, I haven’t gotten any taller…"

She asked about my weight and I said,

“Well…”

Then she took her open hand and circled it in the air over my head area and said something to the effect of,

“What are we going to do about your hair?”

She was holding a license of me as a brunette but I was standing in front of her more of a blonde.

I’ve been getting blonde highlights.

My hairdresser got tired of fighting my battle of the greys.

Because the greys were winning.

“I’m seeing blonde now,” she said, still doing the hand thing in the general area of my head.

I’m not sure why, but this made me mad.

Maybe it was because of the long line

or the big stain on my shirt

or the stupid flashing light thing outwitting me for a second.

BUT SERIOUSLY?

 I’m the only woman who has ever walked into the DMV with a different hair color than their old license??!!

The woman several people ahead of me was sporting 

a shade of red on her head that was 

NOT OF NATURE.

I didn’t hear a raucous over that.

What about all the blue, pink, purple and green hair I’ve been seeing walking the streets of late?

Do they have to change the color of their hair ON THEIR LICENSE information to reflect that?

I told her to just change it to brown from brunette.

I was not ready to commit TO THE STATE OF OHIO that I was officially now a blonde.

She told me to go sit in the chairs on the other side of the office to wait for someone to take my picture.

I was all huffy and,“Well, I never!” in my head when I saw them.

There were several old ladies waiting in the chairs with their purses in their laps.

I joined them.

In more ways than one.

A worker let one of the older ladies know her new license was ready.

She picked it up and looked at it for awhile and said loudly,

“I look like death!”

Alrighty then.

I was all fired up for my turn at the glamour shot.

The woman told me to smile or not.

What?

Should I not smile?

I smiled.

She looked at her screen and said,

“Let’s try that again. Could you not slouch so much?”

Sure…

Meemaw here will try to sit up straight so you can be sure to see the big ol’ stain on my shirt and capture the pure joy on my face this visit to the ol’ license branch has been.

She snapped another picture and said,

“Ok. That was WAY better!”

Like I was going to trust her 

after giving the woman ahead of me 

the death picture.

I walked out of there feeling old.

And like I hadn’t presented my A game.

And like I needed a prize for all the voting 

and renewing I did that day.

So I went shopping to get McDaniel clothes for an upcoming conference she’s heading to and I found this shirt on the clearance rack.

Perfect for this old dinosaur.

A Roaring Good Halloween

Halloween was so fun!

Our theme?

Ellie insisted I print out these passes for authenticity.
She sent me to Staples for the plastic covers and clips too.

We were Jurassic Park (and World) characters.

Ellie is Claire from Jurassic World and McDaniel is Ellie from Jurassic Park. I’m the T-Rex from ALL the movies.
Monte is Alan Grant from Jurassic Park.

Monte gave me that T-Rex costume for Valentine’s Day.

We’d been looking since last Halloween but they were sold out. 

Monte found one in February 

and it was better than flowers 

or a seafood dinner!

I was thrilled!!

We had BIG plans for this T-Rex costume but I did not want to reveal it before Halloween 

so I put it in my closet

and waited.

It was worth the wait.

There was another T-Rex at the neighborhood Spooky Supper.

Momma and baby running through the street.

We were trying to recreate that scene from the first Jurassic Park.
Never mind the reflection of the Charlie Brown shirt hanging on the door.
Someone was borrowing it and my Lucy dress.
That happens a lot around here.

Photobomb

Wait for it…

BOO!

Monte is not too scared to smile for the camera.

I don’t remember Alan Grant taking a selfie with the T-Rex in the first movie, do you?

Being a T-Rex was sweaty, strenuous, exhausting work.

The girls thought it would be a hoot to get me on our trampoline.

It wasn’t all bad.

This might be why my knee still hurts.

Those little arms really were no help at all.

I had the crazy idea of trying a new intense cardio workout Halloween morning.

Lots of jumping and running.

What I didn’t know about wearing a large inflatable T-Rex costume is that it is its own kind of intense cardio workout.

I did a lot of jumping and running in it.

I was so sore the next day, 

I could barely walk.

 I couldn’t even eat a piece of fried chicken at the Spooky Supper!

Which is a sad event for a carnivore.

Monte tried to feed me.

I couldn’t see well at all.

Monte and the girls would run off to talk with people and I was left, staring the wrong way, all by myself.

I made Monte hold my hand when we walked.

I left the suit on when it was time for Trick or Treaters.

Mama and Baby reunion.

The Ninja Turtle doesn’t look too sure about me.

But this tiny little Banana was fascinated.

She probably knew I was a carnivore.

President Obama stopped by.

By the end of the night, my fan batteries died.

I’m melting!

I was cleaning like a mad woman yesterday and it occurred to me briefly that it would be hilarious to vacuum with the T-Rex costume on.

But then again, is it still hilarious when no one is around to see it?

Like the tree falling in the woods 

making no sound theory?

I didn’t do it.

I’m still too sore.

But soon.