Rockwell, Ladies and Gentlemen!

Rockwell Ladies & Gentlemen!

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Poultry Carnage

Most Rho-Deye-landahs know of or have eaten at Wright's Chicken Farm.

Back in the day, they actually used to have chickens on site, but that has since gone by the wayside and all their poultry gets shipped in. All that's left is this 8-foot chicken statue on the roof of a warehouse out back.

And in classic Rho-Deye-land fashion, security has to be high for this lovely lady. Check it: TWO security cameras monitoring the comings and goings around said statue. Are they really worried about vandals or do they think this bird comes to life at night? I believe the latter. Like any sexy chick, come 10 o'clock, she's hitting the clubs. But wait...

Is that a comb I see?

Oh, and yes, those are definitely sickles.

I believe our lovely lady is actually a chanticleer! Oh, the horror! Well, I still think he goes out on the town each night, hitting clubs, picking up on chicks, striking out, and coming back here to roost and contemplate each night's events wondering where in the world his life has gone and what it all means. Is he forever to be alone on his perch overlooking his non-existent flock? Sad; so very sad.

Meanwhile, on the inside, it's rows and rows of tables and the ensuing eating frenzy.

Yous gotchur shells and sauce.

Yous gotchur french fries.

Yous gotchur salad.

Yous gotchur rolls.

And most definitely, yous gotchur chicken. Never ending bowls of everything until you explode and they slop up your remains and dump you in your car to go home. This place moves and moves fast. Plates and bowls of food come at you at a dizzying pace. You don't know what's hit you until you're at home covered in chicken grease with dribbles of pasta sauce on your chin confused and dazed. And full; so very, very full.

And dear all mighty, you can take it home.

Cock-a-Doodle-Doo,

-TYG

Nana, You'll Be Missed!

Saturday morning I received a call from my dad that my Nana had passed away. She had been battling cancer.

All I remember of her is her spunk and her fire and her Chihuahuas.

Check out that dancing diva.

This is the last memory I have of my Nana on one of the happiest days of my life. Sassy!

Divorce has a way of drifting family apart. I just wish I had more time with her.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

-TYG

What the H-E-Double-Hockey-Sticks Happened to My Hostas!

Upon mowing my lawn Saturday (on our brand new lawn tractor!), I did the loop around Yard Bouldah and was stunned to find this.

All of the leaves on my hostas had been ripped off. Or, most likely, chewed off.


And whoever it was, they were picky. They'll eat these hostas, but not my Maraschino Cherry hostas in the front.


All I have left are green shoots.

It's like a crew cut around Yard Bouldah.

NukeBoy has been given the "go" for open season in the yard. We may be eating venison all winter.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

-TYG

I Just Don't Have the Words

It takes a pretty strong woman secure in her own sense of domestic capabilities to admit this.


But, yes, this was the state of my kitchen floor at the apartment.

I had gotten so used to the gradual graying of  my white linoleum, that I didn't even realize it was that dirty.

I did mop.  NukeBoy could attest to that. But I guess I was just adding another layer of waxy grime every time I did.

Two and a half hours later, at 10:30 PM last night, with very sore knees, back, and arms, I had a sparkling white kitchen floor again. I actually did burn a layer of healthy pink lung tissue with the industrial strength "professionals only" grade floor cleaner, and I'll have clear sinuses for the rest of my life, but you can eat off this floor now.

It's just too bad it's for the benefit of the next tenant.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

-TYG

Saying Goodbye

This is one sad apartment and one monumental day. I've spent six and half wonderful years at this place. Now there's just a lonely air mattress and one lamp on the floor in the bedroom. Goodbye bedroom.

A tiny loveseat and a hand full of cat furniture. Goodbye living room.

My morning heron and huge pond turtles. I may even miss the geese. Well, maybe not that much. Goodbye heron!

Quintin enjoys a last look of his beautiful view along with his mama. We're going to miss you terribly, View!

We're moving on to better things and bigger rooms, and stairs. Glorious stairs! What fun the boys will have running all over three floors! Well, maybe not right away.

Emptying my apartment and stuffing it into an already crowded house = Sanford and Son.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

-TYG

Only 16 Days

I only have to live with this for 16 days.

I just wish I didn't have to live with it every weekend, too, up until the day I move in.

This is why we have fruit flies and ants all over the house.

After leaving the kitchen rendered useless for other roommates to use for days, he proceeded to run in and out of the house all weekend, go food shopping and play tennis while WATCHING me pick up his mess. It took me two hours to scrub the grime that one week's worth of use created.

This is why my kitchen appliances are hidden from view. He doesn't know what cooking spray or foil is used for in order to not destroy pots and pans. Rinsing? Why would he do that when he can leave it on the counter to harden really good for three days.

Please ignore the fact that I have circa 1975 faux-red-brick linoleum and beige appliances.

I just don't understand how anyone can not see or hear Cheerios falling to the floor, step on them, and not pick them up. Not only in the kitchen, but leave a trail through the hall, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. 

Sixteen days.  Then I can have my kitchen back....maybe.  I might not want it after all this.

Yankee Doodle Dandy,

-TYG