Welcome to the New Year.  I  am a few weeks into the old year still.  My short term memory hasn’t caught up to my long term memory and my short term memory, frankly, is falling down on the job.

EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, gets a monthly pill for heartworm and flea control.  She should have taken them the first of January; I remembered them this morning, the 5th, 6th of January.  Wait…what day is this again?  Ack.

I’m working on a project that should have been finished at least one to two weeks ago to give me adequate time to prepare for the next phase.  Oh yeah, I haven’t started it yet.  I have a new solitaire game on my computer and it keeps calling my name.

Never did get those awful dents on my relatively new car pounded out…you know, the ones caused by that freak hail storm, oh, I dunno, how many months ago (?) There’s  a voicemail on my phone from the lady at the auto body shop.  I should probably do something about that.   Need to get rid of that phone…

Lest you think it’s just me, allow me to relay what happened to Devoted Spouse the other day…  We have been attending the same church for almost  7 years now.  We go to the same service regularly, always arriving a few minutes early to grab some coffee and chat w/friends.  Devoted Spouse is going to be volunteering his time at the computer check-in station for a specific upcoming event and needs to be trained.  In emails with one of our pastors, he agreed to arrive at church a little earlier and get some valuable OJT.  He told the pastor he would be there at 9:30 prior to the 10:00 service.  The problem is this church HAS no 10:00 service at our location.  He knew this and yet that’s what he emailed.  Now our pastor thinks Devoted Spouse is certifiable.  I felt better, though.  It’s not just me.

I want to speak with whoever is in charge of time and ask them kindly to hold things for a few weeks until I can catch up.  Then there’s that issue of starting fresh I need to contend with.  Maybe after the New Year…sigh…

Here’s hoping y’all had a fabulous Christmas, Hannukah, etc.  I admit to being glad this year is almost over.  I don’t know about you, but I truly love new beginnings…the idea of starting fresh is so, well, refreshing.  Unfortunately, the novelty wears off in a few days and all the nifty ideas I have fall by the wayside.

Wayside…reminds me of weigh-side which reminds me it’s time for New Year’s Resolutions.  I haven’t made any in a long time.  Resolutions rarely are kept and once I fall off the resolution bandwagon, I never climb back on to reach the goal I set.  Why?  Like anyone else, I set those goals entirely too high and high expectations are rarely met.  In other words, you set yourself (or myself, as the case may be) up for failure.

This year…no resolutions.  However, I am cogitating on a few goals that I’d like to achieve.  Nothing too lofty, like be the write-in candidate for the Republican Party.  (snicker, snicker)  The whole Cronie family is going to strive for a healthier lifestyle in 2012 — yes, that includes little chubby EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer.  Healthier Lifestyle is workable and doable.  Diet?  not so much.  Besides, we all know the world is going to be destroyed in December 2012 according to the Mayan calendar…so by October I figure we’ll be partying like it’s 1999.  no, wait, that’s not right..sigh…

pic courtesy everydayhealth.com

“…What does not destroy me, makes me stronger.” (Friedrich Nietzsche, The Twilight of the Idols, or How to Philosophize With a Hammer)

I once saw that aphorism rendered in calligraphy on a yellowed piece of paper tacked up on the wall of a diner and thought to myself, “what a piece of crap.”  I’ve mellowed with age (sort of) and that little witticism certainly applies to me lately during my recent bout of sniffling, sneezing, wheezing, hacking, respiratory nonsense.

Do any of you actually read the flyer included in the drugs your doctors prescribe for you?  I did recently.  Wish I hadn’t.  The cure may be more dangerous than the disease.  To fight a nasty cough, my doc prescribed a wicked cough remedy…you know, the kind that comes hidden in that nasty pineapple-flavored syrup.  (Gag)  Being the dutiful patient, I took the prescribed dosage and, while waiting for the horrid taste to leave, I read the enclosed warning for this drug:

“Possible side effects include constipation, diarrhea, dizziness, drowsiness, dry mouth (throat, or nose), excitability, headache, loss of appetite, nausea, nervousness or anxiety, trouble sleeping, upset stomach, vomiting, or weakness.  If they continue or are bothersome, check with your doctor. Contact your doctor immediately if you experience difficulty urinating or inability to urinate; fast or irregular heartbeat; hallucinations; seizures; severe dizziness, lightheadedness, or headache; stomach pain; tremor; trouble sleeping; or vision changes.”

I went to bed that evening, anxious over the side effects of what I had just swallowed.  Tossing and turning, I awoke in a sweat thinking I had to pee.  When I got to the bathroom nothing happened.  Oh no.  I nervously went back to bed.  My heart was hammering in my chest.  Strange dreams infiltrated my mind and I thought at one time I saw Jesus, but it was just a pile of clothing on my bedroom chair.  Dizzily, I climbed out of bed again and trembling, staggered to the bathroom sink for a glass of water as I was parched.  I took a few aspirin for my pounding headache, chewed a handful of Tums for my suddenly upset tummy, and crawled back to bed, tired and weak.

The following morning as I was ready to take another dose, I realized I was having difficulty reading the label.  Crap.  No, really…crap…sigh.

pic courtesy of insidesocial.com

Oh yes I did…shopped till my shoes dropped.  Actually, the shoes literally came apart at the stitching; one of my favorite pair of Clarks, too.  That’s a lot of shopping!

What brought this on?  I recently met up with a friend who knows how to shop!  Who, you ask?  Why, my Twitter, blogging buddy, and the best jewelry designer ever… Sueanne Shirzay!

I have wanted to meet this delightful lady in person for the longest time.  Recently, our schedules allowed us to get together for brunching, gabbing, and some Christmas shopping.  We truly were shopping for others…it wasn’t our fault those items for us jumped into shopping bags and followed us to the car.

There aren’t very many people I would drive several hours through a monsoon for.  And, while I rarely do promos on my blog, I’m making an exception here to showcase my friend.  I highly recommend her jewelry and have bought a few pieces myself, have a jewelry box designated just for Sueanne Shirzay pieces. Really.  With Christmas coming up soon, what fashionista doesn’t want jewelry?? This year don’t deck the halls, deck out your special lady in a design by Sueanne.

Here…see for yourself!  Oh, Sue?  mwah!!!

Residing on the south shore of Long Island for the past 23 years, Sueanne Shirzay’s love for color and jewelry led her to found  Sueanne Shirzay Jewelry, an artisan company in 2008. In July of 2011, Sueanne introduced What We Did 4 Love, an artisan boutique benefitting the National Domestic Violence Hotline. 10% of each purchase goes to the hotline and features jewelry, soap, bags, and art. Sueanne serves on the board of Social Media Club Long Island, is a contributor for Herald de Paris and writes three blogs. Killer Social, Does This Look Good On Me? and Yeah, that’s Random. Her business facebook page is http://www.facebook.com/pages/Sueanne-Shirzay-Artisan-Jewelry/85742938299 and her Google Plus Business page is https://plus.google.com/113882616122483863897/posts . Sueanne is also a Social Media Consultant with her company, Killer Social. http://killersocial.com

Let’s see…earrings, necklace, bracelet…what to choose, what to choose…sigh…

pic courtesy of foodnetwork.com

I’m on turkey overload.  I’m in a stuffing coma here.  I managed to get the good dishes washed but they’re still on the dining room table waiting to be put away in the china cabinet…I’m that whipped.  Whipped as in a spud that’s hit the Sunbeam Mixer blades one too many rotations.  Today I have made it from the couch to my comfy chair and back again.  That’s it.

Whilst in my comfy chair with my fav afghan snuggled up around my chin, Devoted Spouse enters my territory, plops himself down and announces to me and a half-dozing EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, “I just woke up and have this overwhelming desire to make beef jerky.”

“WHAT?”  “Excuse me?”  “You want to MAKE beef jerky?”  “Did you take your meds this morning?”

Devoted Spouse looked rather hurt that I wasn’t going to endorse his exciting idea of creating ‘home-made-from-scratch-or-something’ jerky.   He left the living room and my trusted canine companion and I went back to our respective naps.

“Do we have any Liquid Smoke?”  I blinked at Devoted Spouse and mumbled what I thought was a negative reply.  I opened my eyes to find him standing next to me (yes, I was still swaddled and in my comfy chair) waiting for further instructions.  “What,”  I mumbled.  Again, Devoted Spouse started discussing Liquid Smoke.  I woke up more and started pelting him with pertinent questions… “What the %^$ are you talking about?”  “Do you seriously think you’re going to make home-made beef jerky TODAY?”  “Do you even HAVE a recipe?”

Devoted Spouse replied, “I probably have about a hundred recipes.”  Me:  “HUH?”  “How’d you get a hundred recipes?”

Devoted Spouse:  “From the internet.”

So…off Devoted Spouse went…on Black Friday…out shopping in search of the illusive spice (condiment?) called Liquid Smoke.  As for me, I made a cup of tea, found a book, and I’m in my comfy chair again.  Oh yeah, I also hid our leftover turkey and his laptop…sigh…

While enjoying dinner the other night, I casually observed that it must be nice to sit down to the table and simply eat whatever is placed in front of you.  I imagined the joy of not having to decide what to fix, not going to the grocery store, not toting bags into the kitchen and putting items away.  Ahhhh, the luxury of not preparing food, not setting the table, not pouring something to drink.  Simply set your butt down and eat your meal.

Sounded heavenly to me.  I may have commented that Devoted Spouse had it pretty good in the “meals” department.  I no longer sneak in mushrooms or eggs when he’s not looking.  And, I completely gave up trying to win him over to my side on the asparagus issue.  He gets the food he likes, prepared the way he likes, when he likes.  Good deal, huh?

After I spouted off for awhile, Devoted Spouse agreed that the week following Thanksgiving he will be in charge of all our dinners.  I was ecstatic.  I offered to  clean the kitchen if he does the menu planning, buying & storing away, preparing, and serving.  I can’t wait.

As Devoted Spouse was leaving the dinner table, he had a grin on his face and he was mumbling.  I could have sworn I heard the word…”MRE”…sigh…

Yes, sweet little EmmaLou, Golden Destroyer, is wearing The Cone of Shame once again due to a slight ‘ouchie’ on her muzzle that needs to heal.  I’ve made up some things to do to pass the time while she is in this contraption.  These are games she and I can play (well, sort of) that will keep her occupied and me in hysterics (I know…this is going to come back to haunt me some day).

For example, EmmaLou loves to play with her toys.  Fetch is especially fun while she’s wearing the Cone. It works like this… I pick up one of her toys.  EmmaLou races over to me.  I throw the toy behind her.  She spins around and smacks whatever piece of furniture is there with her Cone.  I fall on floor in hysterics.  She manages to get to the toy, bends down, puts the Cone over it like a giant Hoover and scarfs it up.  I laugh harder.  Then we repeat.

Another fun game takes place at the kitchen table.  EmmaLou loves to join Devoted Spouse and me for a meal.  We eat and she sits there and looks particularly pathetic in hopes we will toss a morsel her way.  Wearing the Cone makes meal time so much more fun.  EmmaLou will place herself between my chair and Devoted Spouse’s (note this is a round table).  While she’s looking toward Devoted Spouse, I’ll quietly reach around her and tap on her Cone.  She flips her head around and looks for what touched her Cone.  I shoot milk out of my nose and fall into fits of manic laughter.  Again, repeat as necessary.

Here’s a great one that anyone can play.  While EmmaLou is on the couch, reach inside the cone and tickle her ear.  Then sit back and prepare to be highly amused as she tries in vain to scratch the ear and ends up only scratching the Cone.   A fun time for all!

I have more, but you get the idea.  EmmaLou chewed one of my books the other day.  Can’t imagine why…sigh…

It was Halloween.  Devoted Spouse and I had a busy day plus the trick-or-treaters would be at our house at 6pm (those little kids are always on time!)

Must fix something quick for dinner!  I know — a microwaved chicken pot pie (actually the ones by Marie Callendar are good, if a bit salty).

Hmmm, let’s do our reading for class while chowing down on the pot pie.  Brilliant!

I got my dinner…a glass of milk…sat at the kitchen table and opened my book by Foster on Celebration of Discipline (about the Spiritual Disciplines). Into my mouth goes the first fork full of chicken and veggies; nom nommy.  I turn to the next chapter in my reading and which Spiritual Discipline do you think is the next to study?  Oh yeah…Fasting.

I closed the book and finished off my pot pie…sigh…

courtesy of allaboutbirds.org

It doesn’t take much to make me happy.  Sometimes just a word can do the trick.  The correct word, mind you.

Those of you who follow me know I become crazed when someone butchers the English language.  This does not include differences between my Canadian or British friends – go ahead and toss in an extra vowel where you will, or change spelling.  I won’t quibble.

Today I found validation and vindication!  And of all places, I found it in a novel.  This novel has been on my bookshelf for quite some time gathering dust.  I discovered it the other day and realized I had not read this particular book.  Turns out, it’s a very good novel.  I am thoroughly enjoying it.  And then I find something that simply shakes me to my core.

You see, for many years I have been trying in vain to explain to people that the breed of bird one sees frequently in North America is the Canada goose (or Branta canadensis).  If there is a single bird in your yard, it is a Canada goose.  If a few more of these majestic birds gather in your yard, you have a flock of  Canada geese, NOT Canadian geese. STOP CALLING THEM CANADIAN.  Pluralize the ‘goose’, not the ‘Canada’.  Ack.

This has finally been validated for me in the novel Amagansett by Mark Mills.  On page 262, one of the characters is questioned on what he hunts.  He replies, “Canada goose.”  Yippee Skippy!!  Finally, someone other than myself understands this point.

I’d like to meet this author and thank him!  Truly, you have no idea how many times I have struggled with this issue in a conversation.

At the very least, I will purchase his next book.  I am vindicated…sigh