coffee.   This morning the Husband and I shared a chocolate old-fashioned doughnut to enjoy with our cups of black coffee. Happy smiles all around. Cable.  I want us to get rid of our cable subscription. The Husband agrees it's too expensive for the few channels we watch. Will we? you ask. We will, I'm sure we will. The bigger question: When will we? Procrastinators are us. ceramics.  When I was 19, my big dream was to own a bookstore with a ceramics workshop in the back.  Cute.  The Husband says I'm cute. I tell him it's because he loves me. He says, "It's because you are cute." chicken.  There are times when I think our representatives at the local, state, or national level of government are too chicken to make a stand one way or the other. Bwak, bwak cooking.   I do that once a day, at least, most days. I like when it's a some day. Coast-co.  "We're going to Costco," I would say to Mama. "Where?" she w

"Slow down," shouted me, leaning out the passenger door window. "Elk!" The Husband obliged. Click, click. "There are buffalo, too," I exclaimed. The Husband took me for my word. His cataracts don't let him see the details in the far distance. The animals were probably a city block or so away. Of course, we weren't in a city, but on the back road behind Mt. Hamilton, in San Jose, on the way to Patterson, a Central Valley town next to Interstate 5.  That was last month on one of my birthday adventures in Sedgwick, the rental car. Today I enlarged and sharpened and did Photoshop voodoo on the digital shots until I got good enough photos. The buffalo were cattle. So much for my eyes. The other creature certainly was a gorgeous young elk buck. He looked as if he was posing for me. A tourist with her dagnabbit camera. Click, click. The dude was a tule elk, which supposedly is found only in the grassy and marshy areas of California. I read

  The Husband says I am predictable with my choice of music, which is why he made a bet with me yesterday afternoon. "What do you think I'm going to play?" asked I, as I headed towards the Bose player with a CD in my hand. "Da da dah da da dah....." The Husband sang the first notes of "Baroque and Blue" performed by Claude Bolling and Jean-Pierre Rampal.  Our small music collection consists of CDs of our favorite albums of yore, and I do like to play one of two Bolling CDs on a sunny afternoon. "Want to bet ten bucks on that?" The Husband doesn't bet unless it's a sure thing that he is right. "Sure." he said to my surprise. But, then, according to him, I am predictable. "OK!" I inserted the CD. Santana! Ha! "You owe me $10!" "What?" "You lost the bet." The Husband groaned. "I'll put it on your tab." It isn't often that I catch the Husband of

Miao, hello. Missus Lady says some of you have been asking about me, where am I? how am I? and all that. I'm doing well, thank you for asking. Purrrrrrrrrr.  It's been too windy, too wet, or too cold to be outdoors, so I've been lazing on top of my carpeted perch.  Eating. Sleeping. Scratching. Licking myself clean. Repeat. Not always in that order. Miao. Last week, my humans came home with new kind of dried food for me. I heard them say it contains probiotics, whatever that means. It's mighty tasty, for now. The old dried food was making me vomit. The food didn't used to do that. Someone must've messed with the recipe. Anyway, I like this new dried food, along with the new raw food that Hero Man says "Roar" whenever he serves it up.  Miao. This morning while waiting for Missus Lady to stop playing on the sewing machine, I found her doodle of me and someone called Santa Lucia. I asked her to please do her magic so I can put it on my post. Just

In Ilocano (the parents' primary language), balasang is the word for a young woman who has reached the marriageable age, which in my parents' day would've been 15 or 16. A balasang presents herself to the world well-groomed, well-dressed, and well-mannered. Graceful and radiant, with no sassy mouth nor a defiant bone in her. Alas, that was not me.  Mama did her best to polish me up with the stylish, stiff, and sophisticated outfits that she bought for me. I felt uncomfortable, awkward, and fake in them, preferring, and still do, the bohemian style. In my early 20s, when I worked in the San Francisco Financial District as a clerk typist, I wore a Mama outfit when everything else was in the laundry hamper. To break the monotony of the outfit, I'd wear something silly with it. Once I wore wool knee-high socks and clogs with a pink polyester dress that had an attached two-toned bolero-type jacket.  I looked as atrocious as it sounds. Still, in the early evening, whil

Back in November I opened a box. Lo and behold, my favorite dinosaurs of old smiled up at me. In this house full of stuff, they chose to hang out in the guest bathroom. I'm glad to see them again. I'm hanging out at Say Cheese! Tuesday , hosted by joyful Jeanna of Ched Curtain . Check out all the cheesy stuff here .

I came across a fun meme today. It's called Sunday Stealing hosted by Bev Sykes of Funny the World. Every Sunday she posts a bunch of thoughtful questions that she has "stolen" from elsewhere for participants to answer. Who doesn't like to answer questions, especially about themselves? Intrigued? Check out Sunday Stealing here , after checking my answers, of course.    1. The strangest place you've ever been. The strangest place I've ever been is a thinker. Shall I consider a place itself as being strange or a place where I encountered something weird? Better yet, the unfamiliar concept of being in a certain place, and it still feels unfamiliar (thankfully) after I leave that location? My answer. . . Thummm tha tha tha Thaaaaaaaa! . . .the hospital last year. From the moment I entered that hospital near dawn to the moment I stepped out the door the following afternoon was surreal. My gosh! 2. Unusual food combinations you enjoy. Pancakes, syrup,