My motto as an editor: Authors are the authority on their work. I'm a full-service editor. For a reasonable fee, I'm your writing coach from the first suggested revision to the correction of the final typo.
I hurt my back again yesterday (Sunday). It happened the same way as the last time. I lift something a little bit heavy. A few minutes later I bend down to pick up something on the ground. My lower back says, Oh, no you don't!
So now I'm in pain and not doing much of anything.
I decorated the living room, especially the mantel. I only put up one tree this year. It's in the dining room so I can see it from my desk while I'm working. It has lights on it and a few ornaments. I don't know if placing more ornaments will proceed. My back is in charge.
I've already decided I'm not baking cookies this year. I don't feel up to it. I usually fill cute bags with cookies to give to my team, the IT guys (I love them), and the security guards. This year we are on J's team. I can't possibly make enough cookies to fill bags for 13 people, plus the 2 IT guys, plus the 2 security guards. So rather than wear myself out, I'm just not doing it. I have some little bags of Cheryl's cookies to share.
People will probably like Cheryl's better anyway. I don't think my homemade things are as popular as they used to be when we lived in Maryland. I've spent hours embroidering quilts for babies or decorative lap quilts for adults. People used to say, This is beautiful! This is amazing! Now they don't know what I'm giving to them and act as if it's a burden. Things have sure changed.
At least the dogs like everything I give to them.
Pardon me. I'll go now. I feel pretty whiny and unloved today.
me princess auntie rebekuh brought fritz and thanksgiving food kiss auntie rebekuh face every time she bent down
kiss fritz all over play with him took him outside 3 times with penny i poop in yard fritz smells my poop funny stinky stinky stinky fritz sniffs my butt tickles
ate some turkey clean mommy plate after she ate bitsaturkeysmashedtatoesgreenbeansyumyumyum delicious
snuggled fritz
i am princess i roar when i bark i am big i patrol house and yard and garage sniff sniff sniff with my nose look for mr rat will kill him if he comes back
i know where auntie maureen lives right across road with cars must look for cars if auntie maureen needs me she must say help princess and i will run run run to help her and will roar because i am princeeeesssss princess do not go out door alone must wear leash hurry mommy if auntie maureen needs me
run in yard with penny fastfastfast it's chilly no more hot feel good chilly run fasterest when chilly zoom zoom zoom penny arthuritis don't hurt no limp zoom zoom zoom
run in and out in and out in and out fun fun fun feel good sooooo goooood
gottagogottagogottago got lots to do will patrol kitchen maybe findapieceaturkeyyumyumyum
A gigantic palmetto bug is on the loose in my house.
I hate these bastards. They're ugly. They skitter around where they shouldn't be.
I'm terrified one will crawl on me when I'm sleeping and run into my mouth or my nose or lodge inside my ear and plant itself inside my brain . . . no, that's a worm in the brain for Robert Kennedy, Jr., who doesn't want your children to be vaccinated so they can enjoy the pleasure of childhood diseases.
But, ah, I digress.
I've spotted this particular bastard five times.
Sighting #1. Middle of night Tuesday–– I couldn't sleep and went to the kitchen for a drink of water. Turned on the lights. I screeched when the bastard darted across the kitchen counter. Tried to hit him with the fly swatter. He dropped to the floor and disappeared.
Sighting #2. Wednesday evening–– I was watching TV and he galloped up the wall behind the TV. I screeched and sprinted for the swatter and bug powder.* He ran to the underside of the doorway and threatened to descend on my head. I evaded him with a zigzag pattern. Then he flew to the floor and disappeared.
Sighting #3. Later Wednesday evening–– I got up to head for the bathroom and there he was, making a run across the dining room, headed for the hall. I screeched, but approached with swatter and powder in hand. He scurried up the hall door. I blasted him with powder once, twice. Tried to stomp on him when he plunged to the floor. He ran in the linen closet and disappeared. I hoped the next time I saw him I would be disposing of his grotesque corpse.
Sighting #4. Thursday evening–– The bastard is still very much alive. I can't remember where he was. Screeched. Tried to powder and swat him. He got away.
Sighting #5. Last night (Friday evening)–– Opened the dishwasher and there he was on the edge of the door. Ran for the powder and swatter. He was gone when I returned.
I give up. I'm inviting him for Christmas dinner. I'm sure he'll bring his friends, the sonovabitches, along with the entire Bastard Family. I'll move out on Boxing Day. The house belongs to them.
Infinities of love,
Janie Junebug
*
This chalky stuff does not kill bugs on contact, but a large dose of it tends to slow them down.
I also sprinkle diatomaceous earth in the back of cabinets and behind appliances.
At one time I had a big jug of Orkin bug spray. I could shoot that stuff on palmetto bugs until they were in a puddle of it. It didn't slow them down a bit.
Sunday afternoon I mowed the back yard, which doesn't take long, and then I went to the front because I wanted to plant some bulbs so I'll have tulips and daffodils next spring. As I perused the area where I want to put the bulbs, I bent down to pick up some sticks and something on the right side of my back went
Sharp pain! No bulbs went in the ground.
Monday evening I was in the kitchen and leaned down a little to toss a little something in the trash. The left side of my back went
As I gasped in discomfort, I turned my head a bit and something in my neck wentAnd just like that, I became an official member of The Mitchell Block Aching Back (and neck) Club. We meet at Moving With Mitchell, where we see glorious photos of Spain, and a couple of times, we've seen the moon, a.k.a. Mitchell's bottom. We also eat San Geraldo's baked goods. I love Mitchell dearly, and I think everyone who knows him feels the same.
I had also hoped to start getting out some Christmas decorations. That hasn't happened. It's a good thing my work requires I sit. Although I'm stretching and moving carefully, the pain persists.
Likewise, the psychic pain from the election persists. To soothe my battered soul, I've been rewatching Downton Abbey. The first season alone offers such delights: The removal of Mr. Pamuk's corpse from Lady Mary's bed in the middle of the night! The machinations of Thomas and O'Brien, especially O'Brien "dropping" the soap! Branson has a thing for Lady Sybil, who has a thing for women's rights!
I can hardly stand to look at the news. He nominates one violator and idiot after another. The only good thing I can say about Pam Bondi is she's not Matt Gaetz. She has vowed to prosecute the prosecutors and investigate the investigators. Jack Smith moved to dismiss the election subversion case against the orange creep. There will be no justice.
Bob mentioned something at his brilliant blog, I Should Be Laughing, that I've been pondering for quite some time. It's something Carol and I have discussed. Don't you think it's strange the orange creature doesn't talk about the attempt on his life? That's something Carol and I, and I'm sure some other people, expect he would fixate on and not stop talking about how everyone screwed up and he's going to fire them all because "they" allowed him to be shot (maybe not shot, but something hit his ear and it bled). It was a big photo op for him. I bet he was scared shitless, or shitty. It's weird. Just think about it.
Moving on, I've been pleased to see gas prices decrease, but that won't last after the cretin enacts his 25% tariff on Canada. We get a lot of our gas from our friends to the North. I wonder if anyone has even tried to explain to him that WE are the ones who will pay for the tariffs? Probably not. Everyone should know by now that it's pointless. This is a man who thought a hurricane could be stopped by dropping a nuclear bomb in the eye.
We are going to miss Joe Biden and Kamala Harris.
I have turned down any and all invitations for Thanksgiving. I appreciate the kindness of my friends who issue invitations, but all I want to do tomorrow is take a nap and only talk to Princess and Penelope. It will be lovely to have a day without any questions from our clients, who do not read the documents we send to them. I'm happy to help them. I really am. I just want a day of NOT doing it.
Our current supervisor, J, is relaxed and laid back, yet he is thorough about taking care of our needs. I appreciate the way he has taken us on. I am thankful for him.
I am also thankful because Carol is here after spending the summer in a cooler climate. She fell recently, though, which concerns me greatly. She has a huge bump on her forehead at the hairline and terrible black eyes. It breaks my heart to see her discomfort. Carol is 85 and verly lively and independent but she also had a bad fall last year.
Carol told me she has a t-shirt with a quotation on it from Democratic Congresswoman Jasmine Crockett: BLEACH BLONDE BAD BUILT BUTCH BODY
As Franklin so often said, snicker snort.
Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who celebrate it. Let's all try to Keep Kamala and Carry Onala. 💙💙💙💙💙
Hello, it is I, Penelope, and something horrible has happened and I cannot stop crying WAAAAAAAH sniffle sniffle WAAAAAAAAH blubber sniffle Auntie Rebekah left and SHE TOOK LITTLE FRITZ WITH HER! WAAAAAAAAH!
I knew something was up. I just knew it. Auntie Rebekah was all busy busy busy putting clothes and things in suitcases and boxes and taking this and that out to the car. I spent an entire night in the bedroom closet, watching her so she couldn't sneak out when it was dark.
But when the sun came up in the morning, she left anyway and SHE DID NOT COME BAAAAAACK WAAAAAAAAH!
Mom Mom said she went to apart meant. I did not know where apart meant could be, but then I realized Auntie Rebekah meant to be apart from us. But how could she take our adorable little Fritz? When she brought him here, I thought he was ours to keep.
Princess and I took such good care of Fritz. We kept him from falling when he was in the yard. We never stole a treat from him even though we could have because he was so tiny. When Auntie Rebekah was gone and he cried Maaaama Maaaama we comforted him.
And now he has been stolen away from us. I cry night and day and night. I cannot sleep. All I do is cry. No one comes to comfort me. I cannot eat a treat or play with toys or run in the yard because my heart is broken.
I do not think I will ever recover.
That is all. Goodbye.
P.S. I realized I should add some information WAAAAAAH to my blog post. Princess also misses Fritz, but she mostly misses morning coffee and a cigarette with Auntie Rebekah. I warned Princess not to get addicted but she did.
And I think I know why Auntie Rebekah took Fritz to apart meant. WAAAAAAH sniffle sniffle I need to blow my nose. Just a minute.
I think they went to apart meant because Mom Mom was mean to Fritz so Auntie Rebekah had to protect him by taking him away. Mom Mom is so cruel to me, the saddest, most abused little dog in the world. When I napped, Mom Mom probably picked on Fritz and told him he's a bad dog and made him all sad and unhappy so Auntie Rebekah had to go away with him. I do no know what I will doooooooo. WAAAAAAAH WAAAAAH Mom Mom will get no sleep tonight because I will not stop crying WAAAAAAAH I need to blow my nose again. Pardon me.
I was working in the yard a few days ago and needed something from the garage. I realized someone was watching me.
I went in and out of the garage for hours, grabbing various tools and then putting them away. He was always there. I got as close to him as I dared. His name is Buddy. We chatted. Penelope and Princess accepted his gentle presence without question or barking.
In the early post-Daylight Saving Time darkness, I bade him good night.
He wasn't there in the morning and hasn't returned, but I left the door open for him.
After the break of morn, after the dancers' leaving, after the stars are gone, many a heart is aching . . . .
After the excitement of Kamala Harris replacing Joe Biden as our nominee (although I love and appreciate Joe Biden and still felt he could do the job) and the thrill of the debate, I sensed her opponent would win.* The people who love him do not care that he is out of his mind, that he will lie when the truth will do. We can't say the media didn't report on the crazy crap he said. It was certainly on CNN.
But the MAGATs don't watch CNN. They laugh and cheer no matter what he says. Some of them repeat lies––such as hurricane survivors only receiving $750––without knowing the lie originated with him. They get their news from click bait and TikTok.
I can hardly bear to look at any news now. I see headlines such as TRUMP PREPARING FOR MASS DEPORTATIONS.
So good luck to you, ya idiots.
I just deleted the rest of what I wrote about the election because it was bitter and angry and served no purpose.
The past couple of weeks have been difficult and distressing.
The day before the election, something occurred at work that had me so disturbed I frightened Princess and Penelope with my anger. I hate upsetting my innocent friends. Rebekah kept quiet while I let out my fury and supported me emotionally until the issue was resolved by management. I still miss my first supervisor at this job, Bryan, so much. He was only in his 20s, yet he was the best supervisor I've ever had.
I do not mean to imply the problem was with the supervisor who replaced Bryan. She and I gradually developed a warm relationship. However, we stopped hearing from her around October 10. We were shocked when we learned she passed away October 21. She was 40 years old.
We don't know the cause of death, but I was aware––and I imagine other members of our team were, too––she wasn't well.
Rebekah and I went to her funeral in Orlando Sunday. The drive was about 2 1/2 hours each way. The funeral was supposed to start at 9 a.m., actually began about 10, and ended a little before 2. We did not go to the cemetery and the meal after the burial, but we stopped for lunch on the way home. We left about 6:15 a.m. in rain and darkness and returned home in heavier rain and darker darkness a little before 6 p.m. My back and head rebelled after the long day.
We think we will be assigned to the other supervisor in Jacksonville. Rebekah is on his team. He's a pleasant fellow. He's been on vacation and I'm not sure when he'll return, so more to come.
Hang in there, every buddy, as Franklin would have said, and yeah, good luck, ya idiot voters. Franklin would have sneered at you.
Keep kamala and carry onala.
Infinities of love,
Janie Junebug
*Although I realized he would win, I thought the election would be close and we would have to wait a few days before he was declared the winner.