TGIF 9/20/19

Four score and seven years ago


Not 87 years ago.  And I’m no Abe Lincoln.  Not even close.

More like 35 years ago, morning after the morning after Friday the 13th or September 15, 2019, and today.

I cannot take moon pictures to save my life.  Though I’m mighty proud of the third one.  I threw in the toad in for good measure.  Reason – Mr.Toad was out there moon gazing with us and he was a fitting addition since we’ve been on his wild ride enjoying our lives as we smell the roses.

B humored me by taking the “now” picture.  I told him it was the only gift I wanted for our anniversary and it worked.  The before and now pictures are pretty popular these days … this is us improvising.

As always, more to come.


Another Anniversary

Pre-blog. I put this on FB 5 years ago. I’ve always written to expel the demons. Even as an itty bitty.

B “I wonder who I pissed off to get this payback”

Me “no one, shit just happens”

~Wednesday September 17, 2014 Methodist Hospital ER 11:58 p.m.

I am a firm believer of that. No assignment of blame. Sometimes things just suck for no reason in particular. Oh and I also believe in miracles and that unicorns fart rainbows … NOT! Or do I, … maybe I do!!!

Blood has ruined my favorite comfy capris and B’s Dallas Cowboys T-Shirt is toast … because when your nose starts bleeding and won’t stop, you don’t think about anything else … you race to the ER meeting the doctor there, ignoring the looks, stares and sympathetic glances. Hours pass by and the stains have set in … to remind us that it could be worse, it could always be worse.

Of course I can say that NOW, since the crisis was adverted.

I am no doctor but I am positive that all that Naproxin he was taking for his back contributed to this inability to clot because the last nose surgery under worse conditions did not have this particular side effect. If I was a doctor or other healthcare professional, I might find this all in a day’s work and be quite fascinated. I am not however.

I did keep it together until all was well again. I know if I get this out “on paper” I’ll have a writer’s catharsis. The second act is my verbal release: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, now that feels better. Except I’ll probably be all Lady Macbeth “out damn spot” for a while. Deep breath in and slowly exhale.

Hug your loved ones, don’t be shy. Say what you mean and mean what you say ala Dr. Seuss’s Horton. For I too believe in things I cannot see or hear. Life is too short to do otherwise.

Act of Contrition

What follows is the one I learned way back in the 70s … my first confession scared the Beetle Juice out of me.  I am sure I had already sinned at that early age of 7 or 8 in the technical sense of what constitutes a sin but I hadn’t done anything to write home about.  Twas the beginning of my catholic guilt which continues to this day. Hole in the ozone, caused by me …  single-handedly.  Seriously?  Yes Meredith Grey.

O my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all my sins because of Thy just punishments, but most of all because they offend Thee, my God, Who art all-good and deserving of all my love. I firmly resolve, with the help of Thy grace, to sin no more and to avoid the near occasions of sin.

Now comes the blasphemy part … or what some may think of as blasphemy.  I’m going to say something here with no disrespect intended.  Having to place a disclaimer like this sort of alludes that I am about to offend people right?


But I’ve been thinking … night a day kind of thinking.  About important stuff.  Like the state of our union and all that jazz.  And I think people have become down right mean.  Not you fine folks. But people at large. Thank goodness there are still good people in the world 🌍 Of that I am sure.  But what is front page and in my face lately makes me cringe. And I think why can’t we all just get along?  Naivety at its’ finest.  Think about it though.  Maybe we’re making things too complicated.  Maybe kindness, humility, grace, contrition, and forgiveness could save the day.

When it comes to the Act of Contrition, I think we should sub out God for husband/wife/son/daughter/family/friend/foe/random human being of every race/creed/color.  Of course if YOU want to, then YOU can keep God or god or whatever spiritual muse (if any) you believe in. I simply ask that we add the others folks along the way when the time comes.  People think words fall short but we have to start somewhere.  We should apologize when there is something for which to be sorry. Then the next step is to act contrite by more than lip service.  Make amends.  Go out and live your best life allowing others …. dare I say helping others to do the same.

See simple.

As always, more to come.

Happy Anniversary 🎉🎉

Well with things that have happened lately … some stuff which has made the light of day and other things which have not, we opted for a quiet 35th anniversary. We ate a late breakfast at Denny’s followed by watching the movie IT and then grocery shopping. Since we missed lunch, we opted for a very early dinner at Pappadeaux followed by Baskin and Robbins ice cream of course.

Now I’m paying the price. I haven’t recently blogged about my medical meat market woes but things have not gone away. In fact, they’re worse. On 8/20, I was prescribed an RX that I’m afraid to take until today. Now I’m throwing caution to the wind. Happy Anniversary 🎉

An unlikely source, our Pony Boy convinced me. He says “mom unless you have a gaping wound or something really bad doctors can’t diagnose you first try. Take the damn medicine and if it doesn’t work tell her and she’ll give you something else”.

Hmm 🤔 and here I wanted a diagnosis first then a prescription (not a could be … sounds like). My response was “if I get kidney cancer, I’m blaming you”. That was on the insert as a side effect. No joking. Plus I’m prone to kidney cysts. Every CT or MRI I’ve had shows them. I’m told they’re nothing and shouldn’t hurt. But something hurts. Regardless I wouldn’t blame anyone least of all my boy.

Now you all know the origin of my moniker: J for Jill, Dub for last initial, and “Grin and Bear 🐻 It” for story of my life.

As always more to come.

Sort of Out of Sorts or Just Peachy

I mentioned before that September is a tough month.  Mom’s and dad’s heavenly birthdays among other things.  On the plus side though, B and I will celebrate 35 years of wedded bliss on 9/15.   I have been strolling down memory lane day by day as we get closer to the milestone.  Good memories mostly.  Thankful for that.


Today peaches were on special and I had just read an article about end of summer traditions that included peach cobbler.  Well you don’t have to tell me twice.

Except for the peaches & lemon, I had all the other ingredients at home.  I re-created mom’s recipe mostly from memory.  I had forgotten what we did with the peaches though.  I knew enough that they could not go in raw.   Everything I found had no water and for the life of me, I assumed I needed more than a tablespoon of lemon juice.  Turns out the juice from the peaches with sugar and lemon juice do just fine.  I could have eaten the peach “sauce” all by itself.  My crust is more blond than I’d care for it to be but the taste is the same.  Yes I already took a bite.

Mom was frugal and she never would’ve bought peaches.  They were always gifted to us from Mamaw.  Mom also didn’t like heating up the kitchen for just one dish.  And summer time was not the best time to use the oven either.  When she opted to go the cobbler route, she always made meatloaf and scalloped potatoes too because if you were going to turn on the oven and heat up the kitchen, you might as well get your money’s worth.

Continuing the tradition shouldn’t make me sad but it sort of does.  I’m really not sure why.  I have noticed the change in the weather these past few mornings.  And I think dammit, things change whether we want them to or not.    Not about the peaches, about something I can’t quite name.

As always, more to come.


What Fresh Hell Is This? 8/29/19

Besides the fact that August us almost over … and that might not be hell since cooler weather would be a respite.

I’ve written many times about my frugality caused in part by my depression era parents.  Waste not want not being one of the most valuable life lessons they imparted on me.  I will wear my shoes until they fall apart … literally as in this photographic evidence.


You’ll have to trust that is me because I cropped out my face – my glasses were askew.  When I first aired this picture, folks assumed I was inebriated.  I wasn’t but I can see how they’d think that.  After all, I was at the Pearl for girls night out which is why crop is my new best friend.

I loved those shoes and talk about getting your money’s worth.  Target special $9.99 and at least six or seven years use.  You’ll have to imagine my surprise when during my recent shoe shopping experience, I came across Rothy’s by recommendation of a friend.

Wait! What fresh hell is this?  You can purchase Rothy’s in-store only if you live in San Francisco. Their only retail location is located on Fillmore Street. For the rest of us, Rothy’s are only available for purchase online at  Plus they’re freaking expensive to boot (pun intended but I don’t think they make boots, only flats, loafers, or sneakers).  Shoes made from old water bottle destined for the landfill prior to being swept into shoe factory stardom.

Ah, now I get it!  Good for the Earth = expensive.  And now with the thought of being a do-gooder, I am hooked.  Starting for the low, low price of $125.  Why do I think there’s a bridge someone wants to sell me?

As always, more to come.  


Jilly Spends the Day with Bull

Time to lean, then time to clean.

Or in my case, time to blog.

Thank you jury duty for a forced day off. Though I should’ve known that I could’ve brought my laptop and worked. Who knew? Times have changed in the last three years. They’ve got two rooms set up just for those of us connected to work types. Too bad I left my laptop at home. Last minute decision caused by knowing I’d have to hoof it a long way from parking to courthouse. Love me some never ending construction.

For the record, jury duty isn’t Bull. Bull is a favorite show of ours. Dr. Jason Bull aka the hottie hot stuff Michael Weatherly formerly of NCIS fame … he is the vol dire aficionado. Reads people like a book. B likes the show since he always guesses the plot twist. Me I just ❤️ spending time with my honey. Awww 🥰

Wait! They called my name. That never happens.

As always more to come.

What’s On My Mind 8/25/19

I might have a new category here … or not.  I’ve got more options than I can shake a stick at … if I was in a stick shaking mood that is … which I am not …  not what?  In a stick shaking mood.

I’ve got to get some thoughts outta my head.  For better or for worse, I will spew what’s on my mind in the hopes of getting out of this head space.  Which isn’t terrible btw.  Only bothersome and a bit noisy.  Random thoughts pinging around making me delay all the stuff I must get done.

Except, … I have already completed my laundry for the week.  I ❤ doing laundry.  Folks complain that washing clothes is never ending chore but to me, laundry ends and starts again.  Never ending has no end.  Laundry does albeit temporary.  Nothing better than folding and putting everything away.  Aahhh now that’s the stuff.

I think I showed you guys the other “stuff” I brought home from work on Friday 8/23/19.

I’m going where the streets have no name …

I’ve got to clean that out.  Toss what I will never use and organize what I plan to keep.  The grocery bag has already been emptied with things put away.  But I am delaying the inevitable with respect to the suitcase.  I’m an adult now which means if I don’t want to, I don’t have it or at least a saw a meme which said same.

Thing is I really, really want to get my hands on that “stuff” but telling on myself … I downsized more than once in the last few years of job changes and I have totes similar to that suitcase in a closet.  My plan is all or none people.  I will either unleash the hounds to unpack and organize multiple storage bins or I’ll roll this purple beauty into the closet and be done!

Except I need that purple beauty for my daily life as a nomad.  I could get a bigger better wheelie bag for daily use though that seems mighty wasteful.  Or I could take my purple wheelie bag and  dump everything on the floor, pack a change of clothes and assorted toiletries then take off for parts unknown.  Yep, I should do that!

Decisions, decisions.

Or lunch?  Yes!  Time to have lunch.

As always, more to come.