1. I'm hoping we won't need to turn on the furnace until December 1.

2. Right now we're doing fine with wearing heavy long-sleeved tops and long, warm pants, snuggling beneath blankets on the couch, and turning on the space heater.

3. I baked the first apple pie of the season.

4. Baking warms up the house.

5. We have a gas furnace. It would be more efficient if the majority of the heater vents weren't next to windows. What kind of design is that?

6. I need to renew my driver's license very soon. So, today, I checked out what I needed to do. Make an appointment so I don't have to wait forever in line, I thought. Ha! The next appointment is in January. Way too late.

7. I'll apply for the Real ID, too. That one may be a hoot to navigate.

8. Someone screwed up my name royally on my birth certificate. My last name is misspelled. Instead of showing Mama's maiden surname as my middle name, the certificate has Gusman. Mama's middle name before she married …

I got so pissed this morning, I could spit.

Would you say that I'm saying this literally or figuratively?

FYI: I did not, am not, nor will I spit about what got me furious.  Spitting I reserve for when I am sick (better out than in, right?) or for root hormone (some gardeners say that spit makes a good substitute). The Mama pretended to spit whenever she broke glass, followed by a plea to Mary, Jesus, and Joseph that they don't hold the broken glass as a point against her.

Too much TMI? Sorry.

I continue. The cause for my growling spew?

Let's simply say that my tolerability cap for political beliefs got blown off for a moment.  I allowed myself to care that I was disappointed about humanity and so became bummed. As you can see, not anymore.

The Husband and I took a drive to Freedom to purchase food for our precious, and spoiled, Molly the Cat. The 60-mile round trip drive, more or less, had us rolling by green hills and zigzagging through a canyon and among farm fields, …

I wondered what I could do for Say Cheese! Tuesday, which is hosted Jeanna of The Ched Curtain. Why not this, said I. He's totally a cheesy character in my book.

1. The Husband made pancakes. They were the big Y, a.k.a YummY!

2. Molly the Cat kept the Husband company while he cooked. They were so darn cute.

3. Instead of strictly following the instructions on the box, the Husband used 1 cup of water instead of half-a-cup. He liked that the pancakes were less dense. I added, "And more!"

4.  Whenever we talk about his functional cooking skills, The Husband likes to say that he can make tasty scrambled eggs. I'm still waiting after 23 years. In the meanwhile, I'm very happy with his pancakes. Mmmm.


5. I cut several big branches off the Messy Tree, formerly known as the Miracle Tree. Long story short, I was afraid certain branches might fall on the roof should the wind pick up.

6. We've been having a steady rain the last 24 hours or so, from sweet and gentle plops to fast and furious patter. I love it all!

7. What shall I do after I publish this post? Bring in all the boxes marked XMAS Decorations in the garage? Open t…

Miao, miao. I know it's Tuesday.

I know Missus Lady came back to our blog on Sunday, miaoo, and with a new name for out blog. Purrrrrrrr.

I told her that I wouldn't write until I got to go outside, if just for a little while. Miao. Hero Man let me go out for a few moments this morning. Purrrrrrr.

Since Friday, my humans have kept all the windows and doors shut. They say it is for my good and their good. Miao. The air is awful, they tell me. We live about 240 miles or so south of Paradise where that horrific fire is going on. All those poor people and animals who perished in that fire and the two Southern California fires. Mowwwrrrrr.



That man who pretends to be our President doesn't know what he's talking about. Mowrrr! On Saturday, instead of expressing empathy and support, that oaf of a non-president growled: "There is no reason for these massive, deadly and costly forest fires in California except that forest management is so poor. Billions of dollars are gi…

If we were all mindful of what's common sense and common decency, we wouldn't need signs like this one. For that matter, also many of the regulations and laws that ensure people, animals, and the environment are not being used by greedy bullies and then spitted out when done.

But we do need those laws, regulations, and signs. We certainly do. How else do we keep thugs, ruffians,  money-grubbers, self-servers, oppressors, tyrants, and the like in check? After all, they've lost their goodness of being kind. So I think.

Okay, off the soap box I jump. Thanks for listening. Maybe tomorrow I'll be in a lighter, kinder mood.

K is the featured letter today on ABC Wednesday. Click here to read about this weekly meme, and click herefor this week's list of participants.  Thank you, ABCW Team!

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”
John Steinbeck, Travels with Charley: In Search of America
Travel with Charley: In Search of America is in one of my to-read book piles. It may be the next book I reach for, being that I'm curious to learn what John Steinbeck was seeking as he wandered about the country with his canine pal Charley in 1960. Steinbeck was traveling in the era to which the present administration seems to want to return. You know the "Make America Great Again". Myself, I would rather not return to the age when civil rights for all was not honored by those mean-spirited in power and those cowardly who sided with the powerful.

Warning: There's not a thing about doughnuts, unicorns,  butterflies, and other sweet joys in today's post. Maybe next time. 

Here's an issue that no politician wants to address, I betcha: How does government encourage  private companies, small and large, to create new jobs, as well as to keep current jobs, when part of the basic business model to succeed is to employ "cheap labor"?

Ah, what's that some say: Get rid of the minimum hourly wage rate.

Hoo, boy. The federal minimum wage, since 2009, is $7.25 per hour. If you work full-time at 40 hours per week, you earn a gross weekly pay of $290.  Now, let's take at least 30 percent from that for taxes (FICA, federal, state, and disability). Wowza! A whopping $203 to spend for fun and essentials for the week. Bear in mind that some people  receive more net pay according to the number of dependents they claim. Too bad we can't claim our pets. Oh, and let's not forget some workers may also be contribut…

Warning: If you're not in the mood for political musing, come back next week. I may be in a better mood and write about my usual nothingness. Maybe.

The other evening, Republican presidential candidate Mitt Romney spoke at a fundraising dinner at which donors paid several thousands of dollars to be there. Some as much as $50,000. Some, possibly more. Romney, dear heart that he is, acknowledged that he and they, his donors, in the room are doing golly-gee well in this horrid economy. (That's my paraphrasing of his words) But, continues Romney, lover-boy of cheap labor . . . of course, he is. What true-blooded rich man doesn't like cheap labor. It (meaning cheap labor) is a necessary element for becoming true-blooded rich. It's basic Economics 101 . . . .

As I was saying, Romney told his donor that they are in the money while the waiters and waitresses who were serving them their dishes of delectable food and drink are not. Gasp. I know, it's amazing how Romney knew …

Some days are better than others when it comes to my memory.

Who am I kidding? It's really down to moments.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, when I was 17, I memorized all of Horton Hears a Who! by Dr. Seuss for a public-speaking competition. I recall stumbling once or twice. Maybe trice. Ah, I had a strong memory back then.

My long-term memory is still rather good. I just related a tale from over 40 years ago, didn't I?

It's the short-term memory. Sigh. The other day, I was telling the Husband how many states allow employers to pay their workers who receive tips far less than minimum wage, as long as the combination of their tips and hourly rate (let's say $2.13/hour) totals up to either the federal or state minimum wage, whichever is the higher amount in the state. Yes, I know. The Husband could not believe it either. I'm glad to say that California does not have that law. I told the Husband that I learned all this from research I had done the day before for th…

You, liberals, want the government to give everything away for free.

Huh?

You want free sex and free rock-and-roll!

Huh?

Tickets to rock-and-roll shows cost too much for my budget.

As for sex. Pay for it? You're kidding. Right?
Ah, if only I had been more nimble minded to think of these answers not four decades ago, but just several weeks past. The funny thing was that the person who said it was not someone from an older generation. Unless, hmmm, I count my generation, which is now an older one.