BIRTHDAY CARD UPDATE

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I just went to the PO and found two cards for Margaret awaiting me: one from Hilary, and one from Nicki Elson. That brings us to 20 cards with 60 more to go.

I know a number of you have said you've mailed your cards this week, so I bet they'll be here on Friday . . . or so.

If you haven't gotten on the birthday bandwagon yet, my request is for birthday cards for my (former) mother-in-law, Margaret, who is turning 80. I want to send her 80 cards. Sending a card earns you 10 entries in my giveaway. Prizes are three books, two Amazon gift cards, one t-shirt, and $150 worth of editing by me. Please send cards for Margaret to

Janie Goltz
PO Box 61371
Jacksonville FL 32236

If you have a friend or relative who might send a card, please ask! Kianwi at simply she goes has gotten some of her friends to pitch in, and I appreciate it very much.

In fact, if you'd be willing to put the rafflecopter on your blog (and earn my undying love), here's the link to get the code: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/share-code/ZmUxOTg5ZDg3MjA5YmQzYTNmYTM1ZDMwNTlmNTE0OjA=/


Coffey, I know you said that if you sent a card you'd have to say something nasty about X, but you are capable of putting a nice birthday card in the mail. NOW DO IT!

If you haven't sent a card, then don't make me pick on you because you know what will happen? I'll send The Hurricane after you. You will be so sorry.

Thank you very much for your help!

I'll put the giveaway rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

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WORLD RECORD HOLDER FOR MASTURBATION AND OTHER NURSING HOME SEX STORIES

As promised, I'm presenting my top ten most popular posts as part of my one thousandth post celebration. This post was first published on November 11, 2011. Nine hundred thirty-two people viewed "WORLD RECORD HOLDER FOR MASTURBATION AND OTHER NURSING HOME SEX STORIES". If you're sensitive or offended by a discussion of masturbation, then you might want to skip this one. Keep in mind that Lola wrote this. She can be pretty nasty.

Here's #8 on my top ten hits list:

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Some nasty sexual activity occurs in nursing homes.

At the nursing home where I worked, I truly loved almost all the residents. But the few I didn't love? They were rather gross.

For example, there was the guy whose adult children would bring him porn. He'd watch it on his TV while masturbating. I did not like that man. He always spat on the floor. Finally I said to him, Mr. Masturbating Porn Watching Spitter, please do not spit on the floor. I have to kneel on the floor while I help you wash your nasty cum-covered ding-dong (gosh, I hope my use of ding-dong doesn't offend anyone). At least he stopped spitting when I was there.

We didn't close the doors in the nursing home because we had to keep an eye on everyone and make sure they hadn't fallen on the floor. Even at night the doors were closed only partway. We did not have cameras to help us watch for accidents, or to make our own porn films of the obvious masturbators.

There was this guy who obviously loved it that his door was open. His job before infirmity caught up with him must have been Flasher at a local elementary school. The kids have to learn sometime what a limp ding-dong on a moron looks like.

Mr. Moron should have been in the Guinness Book of World Records because he never, ever freaking stopped masturbating. Sitting on his bed. Next to the open door.

O.K. I'm exaggerating. He probably slept about two hours at night and he wasn't masturbating then. At least I don't think he was.

Every single person who walked down that hall got to see Mr. Moron yanking his wanky. And not just staff members. Every visitor who came to see a dying or sick loved one was treated to the sight of Mr. Moron dating five-fingered Sally.  Gentlemen, please tell me: If you masturbated 20 hours/day or so, then wouldn't your hand get tired?

Mr. Moron's hand was on the move all the time. Moron couldn't walk, couldn't get himself into his wheelchair alone so he could go to the bathroom, but he had the strongest right hand on Earth. God, he was amazing.

But let's finish up this post with something nicer. Before I worked in a nursing home, I volunteered in one. There was a man and a woman, probably in their 30s, and they had some physical disabilities. They might have been a bit mentally challenged too.

But they found each other and were so happy together. They sat in their wheelchairs in his room or her room, talking and holding hands and once, I saw them kissing. It was really pretty sweet. Living in a nursing home is not exactly fun, and I'm glad they could comfort one another.
I hope that, in their own way, they lived happily ever after.

Infinities of love,
Lola 

GRATITUDE TUESDAY: MY KITCHEN

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

As you may recall, Favorite Young Man painted my kitchen a beautiful, bold red recently, to go with my white cabinets and black counters. But I realized I needed to clean out my cabinets and re-organize the kitchen.

So this is what the kitchen looked like for a while:

I have new photos of the way the kitchen looks now, and I am so grateful for Favorite Young Man's paint job, and for my skill in organizing that comes from the little fits of OCD that I tend to have. This is the same spot you saw in the pre-reorganization photo:

Here's a lower cabinet with pull-out shelves that hold bakeware:

Here's a large cabinet that's up high. The stuff on the highest shelves are things I don't use frequently:

Here's the lazy susan in the corner. Look, Rita! See the crock that holds my frequently used utensils:

Here's my favorite butter dish:

And now for a little mommy bragging. The following is a Hurricane original:

The following is another Hurricane original:

I'm a grateful mommy, and a grateful kitchen owner.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

NEW ARRIVALS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

So many of you said that you sent cards last week that I figured I'd better make a quick run to the PO and not put it off until tomorrow. Besides, I realized I hadn't checked the mailbox on Friday (Junebug! You don't go out on Black Friday, I reminded myself). I had last checked it on Wednesday.

I received one card last week. It was from fishducky. Isn't she always Numero Uno?

I haven't looked inside any of the cards yet, but based on return addresses (I'll try not to give away any identities that should be kept secret), it doth appear that cards have arrived from Karen, Pickleope, someone in Edmonton, Alberta (don't know if this person has a name I should protect so I won't name names), Casandra, Shelly, Cheryl, Liz, Susan, Barb, Susie, Rick & Jilda, Sherry (Mama), Beth, Mayor Gia & Boyfriend, DeAnna, Denise, and Stephen.

If I've used any names here that I shouldn't have mentioned, please email me at dumpedfirstwife@gmail.com, and I'll delete your name immediately. You see, the thing is, I don't know who a few of you are. Some people I can match with their blogs and blogger names, but I don't recognize all the names. The fact that so many people, known and unknown, would respond to my plea, truly overwhelms me.

Now let's count: 18 cards so far!

That means 62 more cards needed. If you can get me close to that, then my friend Carol and I will fill in the gap.

For those of you who are late to the party, please take a look at http://dumpedfirstwife.blogspot.com/2013/11/help-i-need-somebody-help-not-just.html for all the info about sending a card to my (former) mother-in-law for her 80th birthday.

I do believe I'll leave you with a song today, in addition to the song in my heart.

Thank you!


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

OO LA LA: C'EST WILLY DUNNE WOOTERS

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Willy Dunne Wooters and I were watching a very romantic movie last night:  Don Juan De Marco (and yes, Willy Dunne Wooters took off his shirt and looked exactly the way he does in the above photo). Don Juan De Marco stars Johnny Depp as a young man who believes he is Don Juan. He ends up in a mental hospital, and changes his psychiatrist's (Marlon Brando's) life.

Since our Don Juan was speaking with a Spanish accent, I crooked my index finger at Willy Dunne Wooters and motioned to him to move closer to me. Then I whispered in his ear, Te amo. Te quiero. (I love you. I want you.)

Willy Dunne Wooters' sweet little playful smile spread across his face and he said, That's kinda sexy.

Suddenly I realized I had discovered a new way to make Willy Dunne Wooters happy: He loves it when I speak in languages other than English, and it doesn't matter if he doesn't know what I'm saying.

I can ask him, Ou est la banque? (French for Where is the bank?), and that I'm-so-in-love-that-I'm totally captivated look suddenly shows up in Willy Dunne Wooters' beautiful blue/green eyes. He could melt butter with that gaze.

I ran out of French pretty quickly, so Merde! I told him (will not translate, but if you look it up you'll know why it's silly). I'll probably use Spanish to keep his interest, with, perhaps, a little Italian mixed in.

This morning I said, Mi espanol es muy excellente. His eyes drooped to half-mast and he grabbed me for a passionate kiss. I'm so glad I've learned yet another way to make my Willy Dunne Wooters happy–and perhaps discovered a method to control him just a little bit.

Oh, Willy Dunne Wooters, you are so thoughtful. You were especially sweet when you told me how beautiful my Christmas decorations are. And I'm so glad you liked the mashed potatoes with Thanksgiving dinner.

It was a good weekend, Willy Dunne Wooters. Je t'aime. (Uh-oh. Can you drive home with that extra stick shift?)

Don't we look good together?

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


You still have time to enter my giveaway, and it's not too late to send a birthday card (worth 10 entries) to me for my (former) mother-in-law, Margaret, who celebrates her 80th birthday during December. Send birthday card for Margaret to

Janie Goltz
PO Box 61371
Jacksonville FL 32236

Margaret likes sweet and sentimental cards, especially those with a Christian theme.

You can also get five entries for becoming a new follower of my blog, and an entry for already following.

The giveaway is open to residents of the U.S., Canada, the U.K., Australia, and New Zealand. Prizes are books, two Amazon gift cards, a t-shirt, and $150 worth of editing by moi (calm down, Willy Dunne Wooters; it was only moi).


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

MOVIE WEEKEND: DEREK

Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

We're starting MOVIE WEEKEND early because we have a long weekend coming up and not everyone watches football or goes shopping. I certainly won't go shopping, but if Willy Dunne Wooters wants to watch just a little football, I can use the time to decorate my Christmas tree. Or I can sit next to him and make fun of the game.

I know this is supposed to be MOVIE weekend, but for today, please pardon the interruption while I present a TV series I love. It's called Derek (available on Netflix Screaming or British Channel 4 You Tube site at https://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=channel+4+derek&oq=channel+4+derek&gs_l=youtube.3..0.3519.6131.0.6532.8.6.1.1.1.0.82.418.6.6.0...0.0...1ac.1.11.youtube.3EmaS6J8Gx8 ).

Netflix calls Derek a Netflix Original Series, but it's not. It was already on in the U.K., and now the first seven episodes are available on Screaming. It's been renewed for another season, but I hardly think seven shows constitutes an entire season. The ONLY seven episodes is a complaint on my part, because I love Derek.

Derek (Ricky Gervais), who's maybe not all there, works in a nursing home as a caregiver. I know we're accustomed to comedy with Ricky Gervais, but this show is a dramady. It's sweet and sentimental. Some people might think it's sickeningly sentimental, but Derek is so honest and openly loving and sincere that I don't find the show too sweet at all. Having worked in a nursing home, I adore seeing a show in which the people who work in this home truly love the residents and take good care of them.

I wish I could recommend this show for your entire family, but I can't because of the profanity and the occasional sexual innuendo. Teens might watch with you, but you should check it out first. The show makes a good teaching tool: The elderly are human beings. They might need diapers and they don't get around too well, but they are people deserving of our care and caring.

I like all the characters in Derek, especially Hannah (Kerry Godliman), who seems to be in charge of the home and is absolutely devoted to her job, to the point that it interferes with her romantic life. I like the little bit of romance, and I particularly like seeing a character who will end her date with a handsome man because a resident of the home is dying.

Yes, death is part of Derek, and it's handled delicately and lovingly. I really like an episode in which a daughter visits her mother only because she wants the mother's wedding ring. The daughter is told a thing or two by a staff member.

Derek earns The Janie Junebug Highest Seal of Approval. You can easily watch all seven episodes in one day, maybe while you're digesting your turkey.

Happy viewing, and I wish you a blessed Thanksgiving.


Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


It's not too late to enter my giveaway. It's open to residents of the U.S., the U.K., Canada, Australia, and New Zealand. Prizes are books, Amazon gift cards, an Editor's Tip t-shirt, and $150 worth of editing by me.


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AND SUMMER WILL NOT COME AGAIN

As part of my one thousandth post celebration, I promised that I would publish my top ten most popular posts, but also share some older posts that didn't get as much attention. And Summer Will Not Come Again first appeared on my blog on June 12, 2010. You might recognize the title, as it's the same as that of a well-known short story by Sylvia Plath. Get a tissue. You might wipe your eyes a bit after you read this one. 



Gentle Readers,

Robin has come here to live.

Robin has come here to die.

Robin is some sort of bulldog mix. She has had I don't know how many litters of puppies. She has a terrible limp. She has a scar around her neck from being chained. Her ribs are sticking out.

And she has cancer. About four months to live, according to the vet.

My son's young lady love wants her to know what happiness is before she dies, and I think she already has it figured out.

Happiness is curling up in a chair in the family room and getting your tummy scratched.

Happiness is regular meals.

Happiness is a fenced in back yard where you can run with the other dogs and feel free but safe.

Happiness is batting at Mom's arm when she's reading to make sure Mom doesn't forget you for one second and you don't get in trouble for wanting attention.

Happiness is getting into Mom's bed at night and cuddling up as close to Mom as you can get.

I named her Robin because it is still spring. Summer will arrive soon, but right now, at this moment, it is still spring and the robins return in the spring.

So Robin has come to us during the spring. We will see her through the summer and care for her and give her all the love she wants and needs.

Then when fall arrives and it is time for the dying that precedes winter, we will see Robin through her death and we will make sure the death is as calm and gentle as possible.

Robin, you are loved.

Robin, this is what happiness is.

I am so glad you are here.

Love,

Lola