BBs Blog

Happy New Year everyone. I hope everyone reading this had as wonderful a Yuletide holiday season as I did. Despite the fact they spent the whole Yuletide singing themselves hoarse, the batteries stayed up in all three of the caroling critters, so I really did have a Holly Jolly, Make You Want To Shout, Living La Vida Loca holiday season. Though I wouldn’t trade one noisy moment of this holiday season, I think I did hear the caroling critters sigh with relief as I carefully bagged them and put them in Storage Sunday morning. The fact he shamelessly enjoyed my caroling critters right up until they left didn’t stop him from giving me dirty looks at times as I enforced some of the rules concerning what he could and couldn’t touch. My son watched him giving me one of those dirty looks, and with a grin of delight dubbed me “The Evil Granny.” By the time he finished add libbing as he read my grandson the story of how the Grinch stole Christmas, the Grinch was in drag and now referred to as The Evil Granny.

As we were taking the tree down I offered my grandson a candy cane, with the stipulation he say, “Please.” He remained mute, and began to rub his chest and belly with one hand. I wondered why he was rubbing his chest and belly, held the candy cane up and said, “Say please.” My grandson looked at me with frustration and began to rub his chest and harder. Meanwhile, my son was watching, and doubled over his a fit of hysteria. I glared at my son, then still holding the candy cane up, looked at my grandson and repeated, “Yes the candy cane is yummy for your tummy. Now say, please, and I’ll give it to you.” My grandson glared at his father, then looked back at me like he wanted to slap me in frustration, and began to frantically rub his chest and belly with both hands as fast as he could. Finally Christopher managed to gasp out, “He’s not telling you it’s yummy for his tummy. He is saying please, in baby sign language.”

That’s when I remembered Muffy mentioning something about the day care center he had attended in California teaching him baby sign language. I gave my grandson the candy cane, while apologizing to him for not realizing he was saying please, in his own baby sign language way. My grandson promptly said, “Thank you” to me, then turned to his father and said, “Thank you.” Chris looked at his son and said, “What are you thanking me for?” His son gave him a look that clearly said, “Are you nuts?”, then slid a sideways glance at me. I mumbled, “He’s thanking you for telling me he was saying please.” Chris once more doubled over in laughter and gasped out, “Yeah son, your evil granny is terrible at second languages.”

It all started with Santa’s white beard and the trim on his red coat. They had a dirty yellowish tinge to them that just would not do. And the abominable snowman I scrubbed with carpet cleaner last year, just wasn’t as snow white as he should have been. Next to the brand new polar bear I bought this year, those other two mechanical decorations looked downright dingy. But, I had more than mere canned carpet cleaner to work with this year. I whipped out my hand held steamer, and gave the two older decorations a thorough steaming to loosen that dingy grime, then shampooed them again with more canned carpet cleaner.

Once I had the older decorations cleaned up and looking like new again, I sat Santa and his reindeer under the front of the Christmas tree. Then it dawned on me that although they looked great under the tree, putting Santa and his reindeer there was not one of my brighter ideas. The tree already offered an enticing array of toddler temptations that would draw my adorable grandson to it like a magnet when he arrived for a holiday visit . The last thing it needed was a singing Santa and reindeer at the bottom of it. That’s when the light bulb went off, and I set about shamelessly using the caroling critters to set a trap that would lure him away from the bright lights and temptations of the tree.

After creating the perfect toddler enticing trap in front of the safe flickering flames of the electric fireplace, I gave Santa’s hand a squeeze, and watched as he lip synced to Ricky Martin’s Livin La Vida Loca. Then laughed with childlike glee as the reindeer turned his head and moved his lips in synch to the song. Next I squeezed Mr. Abominable’s foot, and smiled as the voice of Burl Ives sang, It’s A Holly Jolly Christmas. And just so the new little polar bear wouldn’t feel left out, I squeezed his front paw, and watched with amusement as he spun around singing, You Make Me Want To Shout, Merry Christmas! Then I set all three of them off at once, and knew when Chris and family arrived, we were bound to have a very Holly Jolly, Livin La Vida Loca, Make You Want to Shout! kind of Yuletide. But, aren’t those the best kinds of Holiday Happenings?

As I sat gazing at the critters looking so clean and cute in front of the fireplace, and thinking about how much fun my grandson will have playing with them when he comes for a visit this year, I decided to start a tradition with the caroling critters. Each year that my grandson is young enough at heart to enjoy them, I intend to add at least one new critter to the fireside caroling critters collection. It will be fun to see which of the critters becomes his favorites as the years go by. Visits to Granny BB’s house at Yuletide will be filled with fun noisy times in front of the fireplace that make him laugh with glee. I hope the fireside caroling critters will become one of the many happy memories of Yuletide my grandson will have when he is grown. And when I am no longer here, the fireside caroling critters will be in the hands of his parents so that in time, they can watch their grandchildren enjoying them.

I will be taking next week off to enjoy the Yuletide season with Chris and family, so I would like to wish one and all a very Happy And Safe Holiday Season.

All the pampering Larry has been getting has been good for him physically, and mentally. Not being able to go back to work, or even help out much around the house is hard for him at times. Though when it comes to helping out around the house, I think he is adjusting to the she can do it now way of thinking, a little too easy. There is a fine line at times between things he really can’t do, and things he just doesn’t want to do. Sometimes, I have to gently but firmly shove him to the correct side of that line.

Adjusting to being in the same house 24/7 has been made much easier for us both by renovating the garage into a really nice “Man Room.” I’ve come to appreciate that “Man Room” so much, I highly recommend one to all married couples. I am becoming more and more convinced one of the big “secrets” to a happy marriage can be found within the walls of the “Man Room”.  And that room is the envy of all his friends who come over to visit him. Having his own little beer fridge in there just impresses the hell out of them. They think the Coor’s Light lamp is neat too. I’m just happy as hell to have my bay window back, a nice clutter free living room, and never again have to hear the words, “Hey honey, would you bring me a beer?”

Because he still uses the shower chair, we have continued our his and her arrangement when it comes to the bathrooms. Though we also share those bathrooms as well. I keep my facial routine stuff in “his” bathroom because it is next to our bedroom. And because it is closer to his “Man Room”, he often uses “my” bathroom to relieve himself of some of the contents of that little beer fridge. It’s when he wanders through the living room and makes some smart ass comment to me, or decides to visit with me on his way back to his “Man Room”, I sometimes regret not having a small bathroom built onto the “Man Room”.

Sometimes, I don’t mind when he wants to visit me in our living room. Other times, I would prefer to be left to my own devices. Rather than hurt his feelings though by telling him to get the hell back to his “Man Room”, I act like I’m happy as hell to see him. Then I start to talk to him about something he needs to do around the house, that I’m sure he can handle doing. I’ve noticed once I do that, he very quickly becomes overwhelmed an irresistible urge to return to his beloved “Man Room.”

And sometimes, just to remind him turnabout is fair play, when he least expects it, I will suddenly sashay into his “Man Room.” After giving him my most dazzlingly and charming smile, I will sit down on the love seat next to his recliner, and act as if I’m about to settle in for a nice long cozy visit. The look of surprised wariness that crosses his face when I do that really is priceless.

Though Larry’s badly shattered ankle may be healed as far the bone mending goes, it and both his lower legs are still showing the effects of having that high pressure hose beat the hell out of them. The chemicals that were shot into his feet and legs from the hose caused him to develop a dry flaky skin condition that nothing, including high dollar RX creams and medicines would get rid of. After reading about how good Dead Sea salt soaks are for muscles, tendons, tissue and even various skin conditions, I began testing on his feet, ankles, lower legs, and back.

I started the experiment by scooping a bucket of water out of one of my Sunday night Dead Sea salt baths. I rubbed some of the water from the bucket onto his back, then had him soak his feet and legs in it. That first soak made his feet and legs look and feel so much better, I decided to continue the experiment. After hauling buckets of water into his “Man Room” every Sunday night for three weeks I was thrilled to see the dry spots on his back were clearing up. His bad foot and lower legs were also looking better. However, I was getting tired of hauling buckets of water to him. I decided to it was time for him to graduate from the “She Hauls Them By The Bucket Full Soaks”, to the “Do It Yourself Scrubs”.

I put some of my salt scrub into a little jar and sat it on the edge of his tub. When he took his shower that night I went in and introduced him to the “Do It Yourself” scrub technique. At first, he resisted that technique because he was getting such a perverse pleasure out of seeing me hauling water into him every Sunday night. But then he began to scrub his bad foot and ankle with it. After a few seconds of vigorous scrubbing he got a dreamy eyed look on his face that was halfway between intense pain and unbearable pleasure. After a moment I asked him, “How does that feel?”

He replied, “It feels great! But, tingles like hell.” I suggested he might be scrubbing a little too vigorously. He shook his head and replied, “Hell no.” Then held his hand out palm up. As I put some more scrub in his palm he said, “It does tingle like hell, and even sting a little, but feels good at the same time.”

After he was out of the shower and comfortably settled into his recliner I handed him his very own tube of mineral lotion, and said, “Here, rub some of this onto your feet and legs. It will help soothe the tingling.” And before he could reply something to the effect that I would look better doing that, I left the “Man Room”.

Moonie and I went over to the mall in Odessa recently, and had a great girls day out. I walked out of the hair salon with a gorgeous new short and sassy cut, in a lovely shade of perfectly highlighted golden blonde. When we walked into Furr’s Cafeteria, I was feeling super groovy in that sassy new hairstyle. As we began eating all the food we had piled on our plates, Moonie laid the receipt in front of me and said, “Look at that.” I laughed and replied, “I’m paying, and don’t care what this is costing.”

Moonie shook her head and told me to look closely at the receipt. That’s when I saw that she and I had been given the Senior Plate menu price. What really sucked, was the discount only amounted to a lousy 50 cents. Although it didn’t put me off the food I had piled on my plate, it did sort of deflate my groovy upbeat mood concerning my stylish new look. We are both so pleased how good the Dead Sea face care products have our complexions looking, we had kept makeup to a bare minimum. As we sat eating our food, and staring at the receipt, Moonie sighed and said, “So much for all those Dead Sea products. And I guess we should have used more makeup.” I swallowed the bite of carrot souffle I had just taken, then replied, “I’m not giving up the Dead Sea products. We do look great for our age! But, from now on, I’m wearing more makeup. And I don’t care how good the food is, we are enjoying what is probably our last meal at this place.”

One morning, after carefully putting on more makeup, I went into Monahans for my first salon pedicure. And wow did I feel all perfectly pampered by the time I got out of there. Though when I first sat down in that fancy pedicure chair, and the back of it moved, I came out of that chair like it had turned into one of those really scary aliens. The guy that was going to do my feet looked somewhere between impressed as hell at my agility, and resigned to the fact he was about to do the feet of a totally insane blonde. I gathered my dignity up, then gingerly sat back down in the chair. As I placed my feet in the foot bath, I was careful not to put my back against the chair. At that point Moonie turned to me and said, “Lean back and enjoy the massage that chair will give you.” That’s when the light bulb went off for me, and I realized why the back of the chair was moving in strange ways.

Once I realized the fancy pedicure chair was trying to give me a massage, and not do me bodily harm, I kicked back and had a great time letting it massage my back, while the pedicure guy worked on my feet. As I leaned back and closed my eyes, I said to Moonie, “I’m in a chair that is giving me a great massage, and there is a man sitting at my feet. Life, is good right now.” By the time I got out of the fancy massaging pedicure chair, I had super soft feet, and pretty pink toenails with a groovy flower painted on each big toenail. While my pretty pink toenails were drying, I got a French manicure for my fingernails. What I didn’t get when I paid the bill, was any kind of Senior Discount.