My first car was a VW bug with a 67 engine and 69 body. I thought it was the best thing ever. I remember painting peace signs on the windows. What got me feeling all nostalgic about cars is a text I got from Ben last night about Honda coming out with a Prelude once again for 2026.
I owned a first generation Prelude!
My family was a Honda salesman’s dream. Me, Mom, & my favorite brother, Scott, headed to a Honda dealership on a mission. All 3 of us came home with a new Honda. Mom & I both got silver Honda Accords (mother — why on earth did you put me in a car EXACTLY like yours??), and Scott got a maroon Prelude. I’m not sure on the timing, but Scott wanted something else and the Prelude was like new. My Accord got sold to my aunt Irene and I got the Prelude.
It was an AMAZING car and it had… drum roll please… a sunroof!! ::gasp:: 😮
Dentist selfie with the Mom who no longer drives.
Mom has no reason to drive anymore since she has her very own pesky chauffeur. She certainly could still drive mind you, but insurance companies hate old people drivers. While I love my Mini Cooper convertible and figured it was all I’d need forever, I may just have to trade it for a new Prelude.
What was your first car? Do you remember and does it make you feel all nostalgic?
And finally, after days of rain that we desperately needed, it’s cooled off an actually feels like fall.
Ben and Colette are headed to Disney World without me this time around. It makes me sad, but also happy that they’re able to take advantage of my hard work (accommodations and park tickets) for the Mopar Expo. I’ve been to Disney a gazillion times and the Animal Kingdom resort, where they’ll be staying, is one of the few resorts there I’ve never stayed in. I can’t wait for photos!
Now you know: Titanic victim, Jeremiah Burke, threw a message in a bottle overboard that read, “From Titanic, goodbye all, Burke of Glanmire, Cork”. It washed ashore a year later only a few miles from his family home in Ireland. It then remained in his family for nearly a century before being donated to a museum.
I read a book not too long ago where the main character’s mom went to funeral viewings for people she’d never met because it was such a great place to gather socially. I thought of that after I got home from Buster’s visitation yesterday evening. He would’ve been happy to see his three wives (2 ex and 1 current) talking together without saying a bad word about him. 🙂
Not gonna lie, it was great seeing friends I don’t see often — like Alisa and Ric, and Curt. And there’s not a single person in Buster’s family I don’t like… it was nice seeing all of them as well. Perry knew almost as many people as I did and he’s never at a loss for words.
And then I got stalked by a man with a piece of sausage.
There’s a guy who lived in C’ville for many years by the name of Ivan. I was sitting on a bench outside waiting on my favorite brother and sister-in-law and talking to one of Buster’s daughters when Ivan came over and stood in front of me and stared. He had a piece of sausage in his hand and he was pointing it at me.
He kept stepping closer and finally asked my name. The closer he got, the weirder it got because he wasn’t talking… just staring. Creepy! I could’ve taken a bite out of that sausage without ever raising my butt off the bench. Eventually, I was able to wedge myself up and off the bench without stepping on his toes.
It’s a shame we don’t take more time to see people we genuinely care about.
Wouldn’t it be great if we could see people we like without someone dying? Even if there was a place where you wouldn’t have to deal with sausage wielding stalkers, there would be some reason I probably wouldn’t go unless I felt obligated to. Sadly, many of the people I got to see at the funeral home I won’t see again until someone else passes away. Perry said the same thing and even mentioned trying to see his Mom more often because he knows he should do better. We all should, right?
In my last conversation with Buster, he said that when the pain is bad and it’s a rough day, you lose the will to live… the will to keep fighting. When you know that no matter how hard you fight there’s no hope to recover any type of enjoyable living, it’s time.
Now you know: Despite being in service for 25 years, the F22 has only scored 3 air-to-air kills, the first of which was a Chinese balloon in 2023.
I had a call from my cousin, Sherry, today. She’s about a month older than me and she’s a retired teacher. Sherry has always been a flighty, constantly on the go type person, and retirement hasn’t changed that for her. She’s substitute teaching, going on trips, working at a golf course, and more.
She says to me: “What do you DO all day?”
What’s funny is that 5 minutes before she called, I had just said to Perry that I don’t know how I kept up with everything when I worked and was a single Mom because there aren’t enough hours in the day the way it is now. Chatting with Sherry while making dinner, she let me know that her husband is a “grown ass man” that is more than capable of finding himself something to eat. He’s also responsible for his own laundry and the yard.
No pets and no household responsibilities? Now I’m wondering what SHE does all day. 🙂
How does she survive without dogs?
Although they are a whole lot of work — and get 1/2 of every meal I sit down to eat — I think I’ll keep them.
Harvest is in a holding pattern here.
I thought the farmers quit early night before last and just knew they’d finish picking beans yesterday, but they’ve had a mechanical problem. I know this because the machinery is minus a wheel and hasn’t moved.
I hope they get harvest completed before we get rain, and I’m sure that’s what Farmer Rex is hoping for as well.
Now you know: The most complex word in the English language is “run”, with 645 possible different meanings. These meanings extend from its most literal sense of moving on alternate feet to a vast range of abstract and specialized uses, such as a river running, a business running, a program running, a candidate running for office, or the continuous sequence in a musical.
There was an ad that ran in the 80’s and 90’s about what your brain looked like on drugs. You remember it? Dude had an egg and said, “this is your brain.” He points to the skillet of hot grease and says, “this is drugs.” He then cracks the egg into the skillet and it loudly fries.
Have you noticed those types of ads lately? Me neither! There’s only one current advertisement that comes to mind about how you can die from a teeny tiny amount of fentanyl. I do see ads for every kind of prescription drug out there though. From Wegovy to Skyrizi… and from Vraylar to Dupixent… I know those by heart. Crazy, isn’t it?
This is my brain on ChatGPT:
You can do it too… for free even!
You’re limited to the number of images/prompts you can do per day without paying for a subscription ($20/m), but you can test it out on 2 or 3 photos without paying a cent. Just head over to ChatGPT, upload an image, and provide a prompt.
You’ve seen the “make me a rockstar” images from this post, but there’s so much more you can create. For example, choose a great photo of yourself or of you and a friend and try this fun prompt: “Transform this photo into a Marvel Universe scene, complete with heroic poses and high-impact shading.”
You’ll get something like this…
I have no clue why my fist looks like it belongs on a man, or who Perry works for named Ewdu. But if you see either of us looking like this in real life… RUN. 😉
Now you know: There are two high schools in West Bend, Wisconsin, that share a single building. The one you attend is determined by your birthday. Students who are born on even dates attend West Bend East, and those born on odd dates attend West Bend West.
I pulled a 3rd shift last night without taking a nap beforehand. All day today, my head has felt like it’s filled with glue and my body thinks it ran a marathon.
My 3rd shift was spent in the ER with Mom. 🙁
Of course, I must share the required and traditional selfie.
Carl called around 12:30 AM this morning relaying Mom’s symptoms. High heart rate and blood pressure. Although I was in pj’s, I hadn’t taken any Tylenol PMs… and it’s a good thing or I would’ve never made it through the night. NINE hours in the ER is grueling for everyone.
3 facts:
Neither Carl nor I have had heart surgery. We have bad backs… and have both had back surgery. Sitting on those straight-backed chairs for hours on end is rough. After about 6 hours in the room, the doctor came in and Mom meant to say we’d both had back surgery. Instead, she told the ER doc we’d both had heart surgery by mistake. I’ll betcha he thought we were a sickly group until she corrected her statement.
I was surprised at the condition of the hospital. There was blood spattered on the sidewalk just outside the ER when we arrived. 9 hours later it was still there. The bathrooms were a MESS… toilet paper and water (I hope it was water) all over the floor. The trashcans were all full and overflowing.
One doctor on call isn’t enough. While everyone was nice, they were shorthanded. One doctor was it, you guys. They had people on stretchers in the halls outside of the treatment rooms.
Mom is doing much better…
Her heart rate is back to normal and her BP is down. She has follow-up appointments already scheduled with her regular doctor and her cardiologist. After reviewing her medications at home, she found that one prescription was left unfilled and she’s not been taking it. We’re wondering if that was the root cause of the problem but will know more after the appointments.
Now you know: Sea otters hold hands while they sleep so they don’t drift apart.
