MY MIND WANDERED — and never came back!

I hope all of you mothers had a great Mother’s Day. Mine was good. I got cards, cash, clothes and flowers from my two sweet children.

I love cards. They are my favorite things. I save every one I get. I have cards that date back 30 years or more. (I’m not a hoarder. Well maybe a little.)

Here are my Mother’s day cards. The first one is from Shannon, my step-daughter. That’s the first time I’ve admitted that on this blog. I know that those of you who read my blog regularly have probably wondered how Wayne and I could have a grown daughter with two kids who are 17 and 11 but we’ve only been married for 13 years. I never think of her as a step-child. She is MY daughter. Nothing less. She is sweet and caring and funny and generous to a fault just like her dad.

One time I introduced her as my daughter to a friend of mine that I hadn’t seen in years. He said, “she is beautiful, just like her mother.”

I said, “Yes, her mother is a very attractive woman,” and he looked at me like I was crazy or conceited beyond belief until I explained that Wayne’s first wife is her mother.

This card is from her. Inside was the most beautiful handwritten message of love. It made my eyes tear up.

This next card is from my son who I adore beyond words. He has a sense of humor that is amazing and he can joke his way out of almost anything. When he was a kid I could never stay mad at him for more than a few minutes, no matter what mean thing he had done. He has always been the very light of my life since the day he was born. I was a teen mom and to be honest, he and I sort of grew up together. I didn’t know much about being an authority figure. But I must have done something right because he has turned out to be a good person in the end. I still worry about him and want nothing more than for him to be happy and safe.

Here is his card. It made me laugh. It is so typical of him.

So that was my Sunday. I’m not bragging, I’m just sharing my two wonderful blessings with you all.

***

I’ve been looking back over my blog (don’t ask) and I just realized that for the past few months I have been so whiny and sickly and apologetic. My posts have been a total whine-fest. Add a chunk of cheese, a loaf of bread and a blanket to this blog and it’d be a picnic. It’s a miracle that I have any friends left, much less a dedicated readership like all of you. You, my dear readers, deserve so much more.

So as of this moment — no more whining and complaining. From now on, it’s onward and upward, the sky’s the limit, no mountain’s too high, the early bird catches the worm, no holds barred, I’m going to pull myself up by my boot straps, think outside the box, throw myself under the bus…and all those other clichés that make us want to stick a knitting needle in our ear so that we never have to hear them again.

Speaking of knitting needles, I love to crochet, which I know is an entirely different thing, but stay with me here. My first ex mother-in-law taught me to crochet a long time ago. It was kind of difficult to teach me (she said) since she was left-handed and I am right-handed, which gave her one more reason to despise me. But I eventually learned and I enjoy it, especially in the winter.

This is the last project I started and I haven't worked on it in years.

Over the years I’ve crocheted several afghans (the throws, not the people) which I gave away. I wish I had taken photos before I gave them away. The prettiest one was a peach and cream colored one that I crocheted using the shell stitch. (I gave it to my mother.)

There’s nothing more cozy on a chilly day than sipping a hot cup of tea while you’re curled up with a good book and an afghan spread over your lap. (insert joke here.)

Here is one that I kept for myself and I’ve used it for years. It is the simple granny square. The colors didn’t show up as pretty as they do in real life. (I can’t get the settings on my camera right. I hate this new Nikon. I wish Shadow hadn’t broken my Kodak easyshare which was a point and shoot.) Anyway, this afgahn is around 25 years old. It was one of the first ones I made.

Loving the loud colors! I wanted it to look like a field of Marigolds.

I might make covers for my throw pillows out of some pretty tan, green, and white varigated yarn that I found in my crocheting basket yesterday. It would give Scratch hours of enjoyment tearing them to shreds. If I ever finish crocheting the covers, and before the cat destroys them, I’ll take some photos to post here. Especially since I’m sure you all are screaming and rending your garments in anticipation of this project after reading about it.

Scratch bite your face off! is MY yarn! You no touch. I vaporize you with my eyes.

Oooooh, ooooh and this just reminded me of something hilarious. Now I know that this is probably way inappropriate for this blog, but I just have to share it with you. My son has always loved cats. (which is weird since I’ve always been more of a dog person) He has a beautiful cat that is solid snow white. There isn’t a speck of color on it anywhere and of all the things he could have named her…he chose to name her “Cumdrop”.

Which makes it kind of awkward when I have to ask his girlfriend how their cat is doing. He could have been a little more thoughtful and named it Semen or Spermatozoa or something.

Okay, that’s all. That yarn’s not getting crocheted by itself.

I’ve been trying to make a few changes in my life lately. I’ve found myself very dissatisfied with the way life has been drifting along aimlessly for the past several months.

I remember a time when I was full of dreams and plans for my future. Now I am living that future and I’ve taken stock of where I am. A part of my life is good, other parts — not so much.

If you are one of my real-life friends, or one of my facebook friends, you already know that I am no longer working at my job with the newspaper. And the sad thing is, I wasn’t laid off, nor was I fired. I made the decision to resign.

I didn’t want to quit. I loved the job and I loved all the people I worked with and at the risk of sounding immodest, they all loved me as well. And I was told often that my work was excellent. I resigned because my health would no longer allow me to meet the strenuous schedules of following up on leads and chasing down a story, doing interviews, covering local government meetings (which would often run late, forcing the reporters to rush back to the office and write the story with only a few minutes to spare before the paper went to print.) and also keep writing my regular humor column.

In my heart and in my mind I loved all this hectic scheduling and the short deadlines. In fact, I mentally thrived on the stress. However my body didn’t. It began to betray me and I found myself having to miss meetings and have coworkers fill in for me and this simply wasn’t fair to them or the editors. Ours is a small local paper and everyone must do their share of the work and pull together as a team in order to keep the publication afloat.

After a few trips to the emergency room, the doctor finally diagnosed the episodes as “silent migraines,” which if you read the post from March 2009 I told you that my doctor had explained it as a migraine without the headache, but you still have all the other symptoms — the weakness, the nausea, the overall feeling that you are going to die, faint, throw up, collapse, or something, you just don’t know what — and the only thing you can do is go lie down in a darkened room with a cool washcloth on your forehead until you feel better. It’s literally impossible to drive yourself to a meeting or an interview or cover a breaking news story when you can’t sit up.

I have still had a few of these episodes since I quit work, but they are less frequent. Apparently, stress plays a major role in the condition and the frequency and intensity of the episodes.

The bad thing about all this is that being a journalist was always my dream for as long as I can remember. When I was younger I imagined traveling the world, covering everything from wars to natural disasters, getting that one fantastic breaking story that would win a Pulitzer. (I remember longing to be in the middle of the bombing during Operation Desert Storm and being allowed to report the stories firsthand, to feel, see, smell and hear what it was like there, and to report on it from a personal perspective.)

However, because of several poor decisions during my youth, and because I allowed love and other things to cloud my vision of the future, and basically because I gave up on my dream, I took an entirely different path. A path that would eventually return to overlap with those original dreams.

But only after I was too old to make it work.

This is what a silent migraine and being too old looks like...sort of.

I don’t know which is worse: the ignorance of youth or the weakness of aging.

I’ve been abducted by aliens.

I have been held captive since January and made to visit all manner of public places, all the while being forced to endure the sounds of voices assaulting my ears. I’ve even been compelled at times to make words come forth from my own mouth in response. These aliens refer to themselves as Real Life People (RLPs) and the thing they do with words is called “Conversation”.

It has been a harrowing month for me.

Oh, how I have longed to be back here in cyberspace, safe in my virtual world where I’m not forced to get dressed, comb my hair or wear jewelry.

Lucky for me, as I was being dragged away from my desk by these RLPs I was able to grab the escape key from my computer’s keyboard and I have been using it to dig a tunnel and free myself. The going is slow and it may take a while. I can only dig at night while the aliens are sleeping.

I have to go now. I hear them outside my cell and they are doing that thing with their voice. I think I heard the words shopping mall, dinner, and movie. That means I’ll have to shower and get dressed. Again!

I’ll be back. There may or may not be pictures.

Good Morning . This is your Raving Reporter coming to you live from somewhere in the middle of  Weirdville.

We kick off today’s segment of  The Raving Reporter with a story from Miami, Florida, concerning a group of teenagers, a couple of dead dogs, a dead senior citizen and a bad trip.

According to the reports, five teenagers in Marion County broke into a woman’s home and stole jewelry, electronic equipment and two urns which contained the ashes of the woman’s cremated father and her two Great Danes.

The teens then snorted some of the ashes, believing it was either cocaine or heroine. Once they realized they were sniffing human and canine remains, they threw the urns in the lake.

The report didn’t reveal exactly how the teens came to realize that they had snorted old man and dog ashes instead of drugs, but I’m guessing that when they failed to get a buzz — and instead felt the urge to bark at the neighbor’s cat and wear black socks with bermuda shorts — that is what tipped them off.

The urns were later recovered from the lake, but the teens’ street cred may never be recovered.

In other news of “candy for the nose” today, the latest trend in recreational snorting would appear to be Bath Salts.

According to reports, addicts are sniffing, smoking and even shooting up bath salts. The bath salts contain complex chemicals mephedrone and methylenedioxypyrovalerone, also known as MDPV. According to authorities, the chemicals can cause hallucinations, paranoia, rapid heart rates and suicidal thoughts. Several deaths have been linked to the abuse of the bath salts.

As stated in a most recent report:

“Authorities are investigating whether a man charged with capital murder in the December death of a Tippah County, Miss., sheriff’s deputy was under the influence of the bath salts.”

Lawmakers in several states have begun considering a proposal that will ban the sale of the product.

I guess we should just stop using bath salts. Soaking in them doesn’t seem so appealing or relaxing now after this information. This kind of brings a whole new meaning to the advertising slogan, “Calgon Take Me Away.”

Dear World,

Please stop the hand basket and let me off. I know where you’re headed and I don’t want to go.

Do any of you ever get (spam) comments on your blogs that are irrelevant to the post and are some of them often posed as questions? I get these a lot.

Also if it is in the form of a question is it still considered a comment. Or is it a quemment or maybe a commestion?

In the interest of good blog etiquette I thought I should address a few of my latest commestions and provide them with answers.

1. How tall is tyron leitso?

He’s about yea high. In heels.

2. What makes people be so rude? I made a simple comment and Jimmy88 takes my head off? Wowsers…

It’s probably your fault. Maye your comment had nothing to do with the discussion taking place. Maybe it was so out of context it made no sense…kind of like this question you just asked. Maybe you should just SHUTUP ALREADY!

3. Good article and right to the point. I am not sure if this is truly the best place to ask but do you guys have any thoughts on where to employ some professional writers? Thank you.

No. Since I’m only a journalist and author of two books, I have no idea where you could find a “professional writer.” (Air quotes).

4. Does anybody here at leeunafoster.com have a mirror or another source?

Why? Do I have lipstick on my teeth? Is my hair sticking up on top? pffft! (I know you meant a mirror site. Calm down. And no we don’t).

5. For some reason I didn’t get the point of the post.

For some reason I didn’t get the point of your comment. So that makes us twins, I suppose.

6. How much money would I need to save for a holiday in the Caribbean?

I’d say, roughly, a lot more than you plan to spend on a holiday in the Caribbean.

7. I have a Yeast Infection and I am looking at these sites to appreciate if I can cope help. Is there in unison that you power be acquainted with that can cure me?

I think it’s too late for that. Apparently, the infection had spread to your brain. Or did I just have a stroke?

8. What is the purpose of this post if you don’t mind me asking?

I don’t mind you asking. What is the purpose of your question?

9. Well, this should be printed and thrown from airplanes over major cities.

I’ll get right on it as soon as I finish this post.

10. What a waste of time. You’re poor english made this article hard to read. Learn to write.

I’ll get right on it as soon as I finish this post.

Seriously, spammers, do I look like a search engine to you?

I think our grandcat is a little bit feeble-minded . Honestly, I think he has suffered some kind of brain damage — or he has Tourett’s.

You might not believe me when I tell you this, but he can talk. Seriously. I’ve never seen such a vocal cat. He doesn’t just meow softly like most cats. He shouts at us. And he sounds angry sometimes. And he makes forty-eleven different sounds. He can say “Wayne,” “Mammaw,” “Help,” “No,” “Ryan,” “Huh,” and several other words that I have yet to identify.

I woke up from my nap one evening and the TV was on so I assumed that Wayne was home. He wasn’t in the living room so I went through the house calling for him. Suddenly there was the cat, following right behind me yelling “Mwayne! Mwayne!” I laughed so hard I peed a little. (Not really).

He is mostly content, and he sleeps a lot during the day, but he hates it when we go to bed. He goes into a screaming full-on fit when we turn out the lights and settle in for the night. He wanders through the house going, “Mwayne, Mwayne! Mwamwah! Mryan! elp! mwuh? Noooooooo-ooo!”

And he thinks we’re supposed to feed him every time we so much as pass by the kitchen. He’s already the size of a small goat. (not really. I don’t know why I keep lying today). He is fat. Like Garfield.

Wayne torments plays with him with a laser pointer and he loves to chase the little red dot. (the cat, not Wayne) When they finish playing, Wayne pretends that the red dot goes down into the heat vent. The cat will sit there for a while, waiting for the dot to come back out of the vent. When it doesn’t, he runs into the living room, climbs up the drapes and sits in the window. So yeah. I’m guessing brain damage. (the cat, not Wayne).

We still haven’t named him yet. Maybe that’s why he is so goofy. We call him “Ryan’s Cat.”

We thought for a while that he was a female, but after he got a little older, there’s no doubt about his maleness. Maybe that explains it. His brains are located right below his big fluffy tail. And I’m talking huge brains! I’m thinking that it’s time for the neutering to commence. Maybe then we can settle on a real name for him. Maybe something like Nosac or Nonads.

I’m kind of nervous about what he’ll tell the vet. I just hope he doesn’t use profanity in front of her. I have to take my dogs in later for their shots and I don’t want them to feel embarrassed.

*

I haven’t been around here for such a long time I almost forgot what I look like. I really need to get back to my routine of posting at least twice a week. But what can I say? It’s cold here. Really, really cold.

I blame the government. It’s their fault that we’re having all this snow and freezing temperatures. They don’t care about the Little People. They cater only to the rich and powerful. They’re trying to freeze out middle class America. Don’t think for one minute that if we were millionaires we would have all these icicles hanging from our gutters. It’s a conspiracy. They like having us dependent on the big oil, gas and electrical companies to keep us warm. Until we elect a government that cares about these things, we can not expect to see sunshine and warmer temperatures.

I was planning to write a post with just random thoughts today, but when I sat down to write I realized that I didn’t have any. Is that even normal? I love reading other bloggers’ random thoughts posts. They’re always so funny and interesting.

Speaking of reading other bloggers, I’ve been doing a lot of that lately. That’s probably one of the reasons why I haven’t been keeping my own blog updated. I have over a hundred blogs in my reader and by the time I finish reading them, I’m too tired to write a post of my own. Whenever I discover a new blog that I enjoy I end up reading all the posts in the archives. I just finished reading Hyperbole and a Half and I have to say that this is one of the funniest blogs ever. I love her illustrations too. Her drawings add to the hilarity of her posts. If you haven’t read her, you’re really missing a good laugh. (Of course you probably have read her already. She has over 45 thousand followers. Yeah Forty-Five Thousand!) One post titled “The Party” made me laugh so hard I cried. Really, I had to stop and wipe the tears away several times.

Oh, and also if you haven’t visited KnuckleHead’s Blog and voted on the 2011 blog-off, you  might want to do that. There are several wonderfully funny writers who are participating in the contest.  Round two will commence on Sunday so be sure to visit and vote for your favorite contestant.

I’m going to go and get warm now…and I may even write a letter to my congressman and let him know what I think about this horrible weather. Honestly, the government could do better if they’d try.

I haven’t been myself lately.

I think it may be due to those little pricks that are all over my sofa and chairs.

Or it might be because of all the snow.

After living with a cat for the past few months, I remember why I’ve always been a dog person. Dogs don’t have sharp claws that prick holes in the furniture and the drapes. Also, you can trim a dog’s toenails. You can’t do that with a cat. You can only cringe at the sound of the sofa being shredded while you vacuum cat hair out of your food.

If the cat belonged to me instead of to grandson, it would have found itself living outside months ago.

Speaking of outside, we are being pelted by another snowstorm today. We were just thawing out from the last one. What happened to moderation? It seems that lately there’s either too much or not enough — not only with weather but with everything.

And what’s wrong with journalists these days? Yesterday I read the following headline in Yahoo news: “U.S. aims to cut defense budget and slash troops.” WTF is wrong with you, You-Ess? Don’t be getting all slash-y with our military men and women. Or, at least remove the knife from their backs first.

I think I am developing agoraphobia. I detest the idea of leaving my house. I have to psych myself up for a week in order to visit my doctor’s office. That’s the only place I go these days. The rest of the time I stay inside. I get all panicky and sweaty at the thought of having to deal with people. I may or may not have suffered a breakdown of some sort. The jury’s still out.

I just looked out my window and it’s really snowing hard out there. Visibility is near zero. No…wait…I just needed to clean my glasses. Visibility is around ninety percent. But it really is snowing hard right now. The temperature is 27 degrees F. (-3C) and the wind chill is five above zero, and it’s supposed to snow through Monday.

So yeah, it’s definitely winter time.

Excuse me while I go smack the cat off the couch.

P.S. Please forgive me for writing this rambling excuse for a blog post. It kinda sounds like it was written by a crazy person. I’m sorry I wasted your time. If you come back later I promise I will try and be more coherent. Maybe.

Sometimes the best part of waking up is not only Folger’s in your cup — it’s also knowing that you can roll over and go back to sleep. I’ve been doing a lot of that lately and as a result I’m so behind in everything, I feel like a tail. I haven’t updated my blog in so long there are spider webs hanging off the dashboard.

I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas. Mine was splendid. It was spent peacefully with family and close friends sharing good food, laughter, love, and snow. Lots of snow. We ended up with around a foot of it in some areas.

Of course that was only a dusting compared to other parts of the US. Christmas morning reminded me of the Christmases when I was a kid, waking up to a beautifully decorated world complete with shiny icicles hanging from the trees and rooftops. (Could it be that global warming is over? Maybe we’ve nipped it in the bud?)

Now that Christmas is behind us and with only two days left before we begin a new year, I think it’s time to start my countdown to Spring. As of today there are only 80 days left until we will begin to see patches of green grass and daffodils blooming. Personally, I’m looking forward to it with great anticipation. Maybe that’s the reason that time seems to be flying by so quickly for me.

I heard someone talking about music the other day and they mentioned liking the oldies from the EIGHTIES! I’d never thought of the eighties as being olden times for some people. I almost fell over. Then I realized that 1980 was 31 years ago. Now I know how my grandma felt when she talked about the Civil War.

I paid up my domain renewal last week for the next two years and I was startled when I realized that it will expire in 2012. Will it need to be renewed again or are the Mayans correct? It makes one wonder, doesn’t it?

If they are correct, then I guess I’d better get busy and try to catch up. I have a boat load of things to do before I’m done. My bucket list is still half full.

And I haven’t even started on my list of New years Resolutions yet.

Have a safe and Happy New Year, Everyone. See you next year.