C’mon Baby Light My Grass On Fire

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Sometimes All You Need Is A Pet To Play With

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I know I don’t have to tell you all it is the season to be jolly. I am sure you are all very well aware of what season it is. If you aren’t being bombarded by snow, you are drowning in cold rain. It just stopped raining here yesterday.

Arthritis is a pain but, the colder it is the worse it hurts; so I am not a fan of the cold. I am also not a fan of the snow. If I wanted to be trapped in a building surrounded by impenetrable piles of snow, I would still live in Michigan.

As if it were yesterday, I remember those horrid Michigan winters. Snow up to the windows, ice on the steps awaiting for just the right moment to strike, and using a snow plow just to get to your car door. Yes, you can say that a Michigan winter is a lot like the North Pole except, the fat people aren’t as jolly, the elves don’t make toys, and we all know what happens if you get lost in Detroit.

Luckily for me Missouri, likes to live up to its name and only snows when the season doesn’t call for it. It also likes to destroy all plans you have to celebrate the holidays by tossing in a tornado out of the blue. I am convinced that if 2012 is to be the destruction of all people it will begin in Missouri and spread out.

There is no doubt in my mind that a tornado, flood, and hail storm will combine at the same time in an off-season and blow the Arch right into the Mississippi River causing a gigantic vacuüm whirlpool effect and suck the entire surrounding states into the middle of it and drop everything off right smack dab in Mexico. Olé!

Umm NO, I have not been smoking Frankincense again but, I did have a bite of a Golden Myrrh sandwich. It was gooood. I realize that my idea seems far-fetched but, I have lived in this state long enough to know that if you plan something, it will get disrupted. So I am planning mass destruction and will laugh the day after when it doesn’t happen. If by some chance it does happen, remember you read it here first. Shit, if Harold Camping can keep moaning about the end of days than I sure as Hell can too.

Now you may ask me what does all of this have to do with Christmas and/or needing a pet… well… I got nothing! I knew I needed a new post and that it should be somewhat uplifting, so this is what I came up with. Not impressed? Ok, you don’t have to enjoy what I am saying but, you can sit and enjoy the Hamster that I have embedded in this post just for you. Go ahead see if you can walk away and not play with the Hamster. “HAHA…Jen, you are brilliant!” Why yes, yes I am!!!

Spaghetti Mafia

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When I was about 13 years old we spent our usual court appointed three weeks during the summer at my mom’s house. Mom was working during the day so she decided to drop Jess, Rion and me off at her aunt’s house; good ol Aunt Janet, my grandmother’s younger sister.

 

I grew up around my aunt on and off during my life but, mostly it was when I was younger because we lived a couple of blocks away from her in Flint. When I got older my aunt became disabled and was in a wheelchair for many years from diabetes and her plethora of other medical conditions. Although she was fairly sick most of the time that I was ever around her, she never failed to crack us up when we visited. We would spend hours listening to her talk about her youth and all her comical adventures. Some of them seemed too funny to be true but, we never called her a liar because the stories were definitely side-splitting hilarious and we were just children so who were we to say they didn’t happen.

 

On one particular day we; Jess, Rion, Aunt Janet and I were all sitting in the kitchen at the table talking and eating ice cream. After awhile Aunt Janet tells us this one story that I will always remember for the rest of my life; here is what she said…

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“When I was a girl I went out on a date with this nice Italian gangster, he picked me up and we went to his family’s restaurant for dinner; I had spaghetti. Time seemed to fly by while talking with him and his family. At one point the conversation became so intriguing that I forgot about my spaghetti, I was just winding and winding and winding it around my fork and when I lifted my fork to take a bite… there was no pasta on my plate, it was all on the fork!!! It was the size of a baseball.”

 

My siblings and I busted out laughing…my aunt knew how to tell a story and her facial expressions along with her hand gestures were downright entertaining. She had been twisting her hand like she was actually winding the spaghetti on the fork and her mouth dropped open as she lifted her hand to her face.

 

I am very fortunate to have spent quite a bit of time with my Aunt Janet before she passed away in 2001. Every time I eat spaghetti I recant the story she told us and laugh half way through dinner!! And don’t even get me started singing that parody song of On Top of Old Smokey. LOL