Sunday, March 9, 2008

Sunday Morning

Today, Daylight Savings begins, so we all (except for the rebels in Arizona and Hawaii) lose an hour.
I decided to go to the Methodist Church today. And as usual, I am late when I decide to do this. I mean, I looked at the clock and it was 9:05 and the service began at 10:00. But I think I can do it. I jump in the shower, do all my stuff and grab a pair of nylons (okay they're pantyhose, but nylons sound so much more attractive), and as I'm putting them on, I am my fingernail right thru them. The hole with the beginning of a run, is in the thigh area. So I decide to the old-fashioned remedy and grabbed a bottle of fingernail polish. It was red. I am standing in front of the bathroom mirror, my body contorted so I can see the run and with my left hand try to put a dab of red fingernail polish on it. I put more than a dab. ( a blob of red, dripping blood is what it looks like)
I pull on my skirt...and wonder of wonders it is a bit too big for me. I grab a safety pin (but we only have the small ones) and gather it and pin it, so it fits me better. I walk to the closet, bend over to pick up my shoes and the safety pins goes --- bling!!! poking itself right into my stomach. Now I have a red blood drop on my stomach and a red fingernail polish blob on the back of my thigh.
When I take my cloths off tonight, Rich is going to wonder, what war I have been thru.

AND.... time is running out. It is 10 minutes till 10 o'clock. I pull on my shoes, get another safety pin, grab some earrings and ....and.....THE PHONE RINGS. Do I answer it? Do I ignore it?
Caller ID says it is Dustin. Damn. One cannot ignore their children. But he was just calling to visit and to let me know that they are getting a new apartment, and the best thing about that is there is a pond. With Ducks.

(sigh) he will never let us forget that we didn't get him a duck when he was a kid.
I am happy he finally has his ducks. Such a bad mother I was.

So, this was my morning. How was yours?

I made it to church on time (well...five minutes late). It was nice. And no one noticed the red fingernail polish blob on the back of my thigh that was sticking out from under my skirt a bit. LOL or they were too nice to mention it.

So, today is the birthday of Mickey Spillane, the author Mike Hammer Detective novels. I can't help it, I just love that, Mickey Spillane-ish flow of hard core detective narration.
But....not all of you share my fascination. LOL

from Barb B (who, to be fair, is doped up on medication for her back. Rich talked to her yesterday and said she was pretty "loopy" )
I'm sorry-------but I actually don't care who said it. Besides, I think my medication messes with my brain, too.

from Meghan:
I think you asked that before!! Mike Hammer?

from Sadie:
I have no idea (so I googled it- I'm not familiar with his work)

from Tomi:
That sounds like a Mickey Spillane sort of line from his detective novels. If not, it should be!

me/debbie:
ahhh, Tomi. I knew it would be she (and Meghan too, who's read everything under the sun) to get the quiz of the day right.

Spillane was once asked why detective Mike Hammer is always depicted drinking beer. He said, "Mike Hammer drinks beer, not cognac, because I can't spell cognac."

And, "If you're a singer you lose your voice. A baseball player loses his arm. [But] a writer gets more knowledge, and if he's good, the older he gets, the better he writes."

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