I’m giving Crone and Bear It a break.  That’s not to say I’ll never post here again.  I’ve learned to never say never.

In the meantime, I’ve embarked on a new blogging journey.  Please come see my new endeavor She’s A Pretty Good Christian.

You’ll find me at http://shesaprettygoodchristian.com  Never fear, my humor has not left me.

Oh yeah, EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer will be a part of the new blog, no doubt.  See ya over there.

Love,

Linda and

Sweet EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer has had some health issues of late.  The most annoying one (for all of us) is a stomach problem — she has issues with digesting her food and she burps louder and longer than a longshoreman.  Poor Em!

She willingly went to the vet’s because she likes it there.  I don’t like it at my doctor’s office, but I’m not a dog.  Anyway, the vet is aware of the issue; Em’s been on meds prior to this visit.  But, the problem returns.  He suggests obtaining a blood sample, giving her her annual shots (which were due), refilling her heartworm and flea prevention meds, and oh, here’s a plastic tray…please get a sample of her urine.

Excuse me?

This morning bright (well, actually it was dark) and early, the whole family goes out to the backyard to obtain a pee sample from EmmaLou.  I was on leash and flashlight duty; Devoted Spouse had the little (and I do mean little) plastic tray at the ready.  Em sniffs around, squats down, I yell at Devoted Spouse, “NOW!”, he slides the tray under her and EmmaLou jumps straight up in the air taking her precious pee with her.

Take Two:  “C’mon sweetie puppy girl…pee in the cup.”  Yes, dogs can get a hateful look on their faces.  Finally she squatted again and we repeated the above exercise.  It didn’t work the second time, either.

Devoted Spouse took EmmaLou out on her morning walk, where she peed like someone who’s had their bladder stopped up for a month.  Peed all up and down the street.  Did we get a sample?  No…forgot the tray.

While running errands, I stopped in the vet’s office.  They laughed and laughed but finally agreed I could bring her up late in the day and THEY would try the little plastic tray trick.

EmmaLou and I, meanwhile, have decided we should never speak of this barbaric intrusion into her personal life again.  Sigh…

Reacting to my aching back and the fact I announced I was about to carry some loads of laundry to the basement, the conversation went like this:
Me:  I’m gonna take down some laundry in a little while.

Devoted Spouse:  No, you’re not.

Me:  Oh, yeah, I am.

Devoted Spouse:  No! You can’t carry down; you can’t carry up…but…you can karaoke.

Seriously, this is my life…sigh…

But this particular book made me so sad because it dealt with a married couple who simply could do nothing but hurt each other in new and vicious ways.

You see…I love the stuffin’ outta Devoted Spouse.  Here’s just one reason:  He labels our Chinese take-out boxes with our initials so when I want to finish what I ordered, I don’t have to waste time opening all the boxes.

So, in a way, reading the terrible book was good for me because it reminded me how loved I am!  sigh…

courtesy of hdsoft.org

Are you like me and have just had it up to there with passwords?  I tried to access a site earlier and couldn’t remember my password.  Thirty minutes later, numerous screens, error messages, and two emails, I still don’t know the password.  That’s 30 minutes of my life I could have spent doing my cardio work-out.  (insert hysterical laughter here)

When I worked in a cubicle farm, a majority of us would stash our computer passwords under our keyboards.  We all knew each other did this, but nobody said anything because, of course, it was not an allowed practice.  But it was easy to remember.  And, that’s the problem with passwords — only a 12-yr old can remember any of them.

I tried using the same password for everything.  That fell apart when some jerk hacked an email account.  I got the notification, panicked, and realized I had 70 hundred thousand million passwords to generate.  And they all had to be different.  And I had to have them in my head and be able to retrieve them.  Oh my.  This would never work.

I got the bright idea of jotting down passwords in a small notebook.  That failed when the notebook fell on the family room floor somehow and EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, had a midnight snack.  Ack.

Next, I decided to embed passwords into phone numbers.  Disaster!  I couldn’t remember which part of the phone number was the password, or if the phone number was a real one, and ended up phoning some rather angry people.

I had heard about smart phone aps that took care of passwords.  I quickly downloaded the latest ap.  I loaded all my passwords into it, then gave it a password.  Guess what I forgot?  The password to access my passwords.

I created an Excel spreadsheet and put all my passwords there.  Then I thought it would be a good idea to print it out, so if I died unexpectedly (like from a password event-generated stroke), Devoted Spouse would be able to get into all my records online.  But the spreadsheet was too big for my printer paper.  I had to scotch-tape the printed pages together.  It turned into such a mess, I shredded everything and opened a bottle of wine.

There seems to be no easy solution to this.  I have a copy of the spreadsheet that wasn’t taped together. I threw it in a file folder to deal with later.  I just don’t remember what I did with that folder…sigh…

courtesy of http://www.copyblogger.com

Saints preserve us…I’ve spent my day pinning on Pinterest.  If you haven’t heard of it, well it’s another bright idea someone came up with to steal time.  And it works.  It’s brilliant.  Simply log on, set up some “boards”, grab a “pin it” button for your bookmarks toolbar, and then go web surfing, pinning what you pine for.

Hours upon hours of my life today I can’t recover.  I am still in my pajamas.  It’s supper time.  I haven’t peed in I don’t know how long.  I haven’t eaten.  But, I think I have 8 boards now and a paltry 15 followers. I even added a Follow Me on Pinterest button to this blog (Gasp!)  And, while I’d like to continue this posting, I.Have.To.Return.To.Pinterest.

I’ve Pinterested and I can’t get up…sigh…

pic from National Archives

I was enjoying a lovely breakfast of pancakes and bacon at my local Bob Evans when I realized I wasn’t really hungry.  Leaving half my food on the plate, I left and went about my day.  Errands, errands, ooh ice cream, errands, come home & read a book.  Pretty normal day for me (minus the ice cream).

We had a guest in the house; a guest who was like family, but a guest nonetheless.  I started feeling rather wonky around suppertime.  Wonky as in “If I inhale many more food fumes I will hurl.”  I made dinner for Devoted Spouse and our guest and retired to the bedroom to rest.

I thought a nice tv show might get my mind off my queasy tummy.  Turning on the tv, I landed on the Food Channel and promptly ran to the bathroom to hurl.  By that time I was pretty sure something was amiss.  The guest and Devoted Spouse were still enjoying their dinner, grrr.

A little voice told me, change your clothes…put on clean underwear…brush your teeth and do something with your hair.  I think it’s a girl thing.  A stupid girl thing because by that time I was all sweaty and there was no chance of doing anything with my hair.  sigh

At 10:00 that night, I walked into the kitchen all hunched over and looking a lovely shade of grey (no…not Fifty Shades…) to the horror of our guest and managed to scare the puddin’ outta Devoted Spouse.  I announced, “Hospital, now!”  The guest was concerned, Devoted Spouse was very concerned (and looking for car keys) and I was searching for a knife large enough to cut out Freddie Kruger (who I was sure was living in my belly).  It was not pretty.

Almost six days later I had been in two different hospitals, been sedated for a gnarly test involving tubes down one’s throat into the gallbladder (ack ack) and had a virtual munchkin stranger suck out one of my major organs leaving me with four rather painful holes and something disgusting hanging out of me called a drain.  (oh ack squared) (you may hurl now).

So that’s what I did on MY summer vacation kids. Even if you desperately wish to lose weight (I’m down 20 lbs now) I suggest you not try this.  It’s right up there with abscessed teeth…or maybe being run over by a truck.  Yes, the bills are arriving daily.  We’re over $22,000 at present.  Didja miss me?  sigh…

pic courtesy of life123.com

Will someone please explain to me why here in the Midwest restaurants think cole slaw is an appetizer?  Every time DS and I go to one of the family restaurants in this area, if I order cole slaw as a side, it arrives prior to my meal.  Do they think it’s a first course?  I don’t know about you, but I like my cole slaw WITH my meal.  A “side” accompanies the meal, yes?  just sayin’.

Do you ever give in to indulgence and order that honkin’ huge milkshake…you know, the one with gobs of whipped cream?  Oh puhleeze, you know you do.  My question is why do they fill the plastic cups so full and add that strange circular top with the opening for a straw, so that by the time you put the milkshake in your cup container, it has spilled all over you, and flows like a volcano all throughout the car? I think the server behind that little glass window gets extra points if this happens to the customer.  “Hey! Got another one wet!” Why can’t they make a top that fits correctly?  Grrrrr.

I always thought Bob Evans made the best pancakes.  Plus they’re close to my house.  Less gas money.  I went for breakfast last week while Devoted Spouse was out doing his church gig.  I ordered blueberry pancakes, my personal fav.  I got about halfway through and realized these pancakes were getting soggier and soggier and it wasn’t the syrup.  I was putting batter on my fork.  Ack.  No thanks.  Yes, got a refund.  Politely declined offer of more pancakes.

Speaking of barbecue…well sort of.  Went to a local barbecue restaurant and ordered Texas brisket.  Having not eaten brisket, Texas or otherwise, I was quite excited to see what it was all about.  Imagine my disgust when a plate was put in front of me swimming in grease with overdone meat covered with fat.  It was nasty.  I didn’t eat it.  I was surprised anyone would serve that.  When the waitress asked me about it, I explained that I didn’t favor a meal that is swimming on my plate.  She apologized all over me, offered to replace it (I had lost my appetite by then), and left to get a refill on my unsweetened iced tea.  The tea arrived and it was sweetened.  The waitress disappeared.  Devoted Spouse contentedly munched his pulled pork sandwich.  The owner came over, apologizing repeatedly and backpedaling on why I was given such a nasty piece of meat.  Turns out I received the “end” and nobody thought to actually look at the plate and see what they were serving to a customer.  He offered a better piece of brisket.  I declined.  He offered a pound of pulled pork for me to take home.  I declined.  He offered me a free beverage.  I not only declined, but let him know the one I had was not what I ordered.  He comped the check.  That’s what he should have done to begin with.  Devoted Spouse went home with a happy tummy.  I stopped for ice cream…sigh…

pic from youmustbetrippin.com

Yes!  You, too, can save tons of dollars while shopping.  I discovered these top 3 ways to save money shopping, now YOU can too!!

1. Wear shoes that hurt.

I was out running errands the other day and spotted a new Home Goods store in the neighborhood.  I walked in, decided I wanted to peruse before I got a big basket.  By the time I was done perusing, my feet were killing me.  I had one small item.  It was too far to go back to the very front of the store, get a basket, then hobble back to the bedding department.  So I checked out with my one small item.  Saved aproximately $200.00.  You can too!

2.  Skip the basket.

Building on story above, go into any large store without a basket.  Roam around until you are at the back of the store, you’re tired, cranky, and your blood sugar is approaching the single digits.  You will easily choose to come back another day when you feel better…and have a basket.  $$ saved?  Easily a mortgage payment.

3.  Reorganize your purse before you go out.

If you take 10 minutes to reorganize your purse and wallet before leaving home, I guarantee you will save money!  How?  By taking out your checkbook and your credit cards & realizing you couldn’t possibly need that much cash in your wallet.  Grab your American Express Card and off you go to the big stores.  Oh yeah…nobody uses American Express anymore.  $$ saved?  Maybe enough for a smart car!

See?  Just a few simple tips and you, too, will be saving tons of money!  Now take that savings and go buy lottery tickets…sigh…

pic from http://www.dognamesdognames.com

DISCLAIMER:  The following may be offensive to some – no disrespect is intended.  This is just a blog, don’t get riled up about it.

I know…I tell you I’m back and then I disappear again.  This seems to be the year of the ADD blogger.  Not that I haven’t been busy with other projects, mind you.

I’m on a quest to understand my religion (Christianity).  Sometimes it’s good to shake things up a bit.  That’s when insights occur, at least in my life.  So, I’ve been studying the life of Jesus in a feeble attempt to know Him better.  Churches spend a lot of time on what we should do and hammer into us that Jesus was the Son of God, human and divine.  He had a soft spot in his heart for the poor and oppressed, the widows, children, etc.  We’ve all heard it over and over.  We have artistic renderings of a fairly white man with longish hair and a scruffy beard, wearing robes and sandals.  He’s always very clean. The pictures don’t look much like a middle eastern man, but what do I know about art?

I have my own picture and I don’t mean to be sacrilegious here or disrespectful in any way.  I’m just trying to get my head around what Yeshua (Jesus) was like.  There are few, if any, records of his childhood up until about 12 or so.  And then we have the story of Jesus being lost from his folks and turning up in a temple discussing life with the Rabbis.  Okay.  I know when I was 12 I was still playing with dolls, but then, I wasn’t divine either.  Oh, I had a tiara, but, oh nevermind.

After much reading on first century second Temple Jews, their culture and life, I’ve come to some conclusions myself on Jesus’ early years.  I think he was like any other kid who just wandered around in the village or community hanging out with his buds.  He probably got dirty playing some type of stick ball and Mary would yell at Him to get back into the house and wash up for supper. I wondered if she used the phrase, “Oh for Heaven’s sake, Jesus!”  Probably not.  I imagine Him with a squeaky voice prior to puberty and then that silly little wispy mustache that guys are so proud of as they mature.  We know He had lots of facial hair…it’s in all the pictures shown in Sunday School.

The bible never talks about pets.  That bothers me somewhat.  These people worked hard; they had no tv or video games for entertainment.  Oh, once a month or so the Romans might toss somebody in a lion pit and everyone would cheer, eat hot dogs and then go home.  But daily entertainment was slim.  I think they had to have had a pet or two along the way.  Maybe some families had a fish, maybe an Egyptian family transferring in brought a cat with them.  Why not have some dogs running around?

I’m thinking even Jesus as a kid had a dog of his own.  There just aren’t any stories in the bible about a boy and his dog.  I think the church fathers got together as they were discussing canon and said, “Absolutely not!  No stories about Jesus’ dog – it makes Him too human.”  The true story is they were afraid people wouldn’t understand or maybe get some of the stories twisted.  You see, Jesus did have a dog, a nasty cur He named Demon.  Demon had a bladder issue and frequently other families in the village (remember they didn’t have glass windows in their homes) would hear Jesus trying to deal with his dog’s problem by yelling “OUT, Demon, OUT!”  You know how stories are passed down through the generations.

Or maybe not…sigh…