Okay...I've held off as long as I can! Yoga Pants! Or leggings... Oh, I know there's a difference but lately, to me, they're the same, in that they show too much! (The guys might hate this post but I'm not sure how many will even see it anyway...)
I love yoga pants! What's not to like about them? They're comfortable and if you're not heading to the gym, they make folks THINK you are. But please, wear a top or a jacket that's long enough to cover "it". We get it! You're proud of the bum you've acquired from your work-outs. It takes a lot of sweat and commitment to get that booty, but do we have to see the "front" as well?
Same deal with leggings. Love the look with boots, leggings and a long sweater. But if you're not wearing a long sweater, how is that any different than wearing pantihose (okay, I'm old!) without a skirt?
I compare yoga pants and leggings, without longer tops, to men's Speedo swimming trunks. We know they've got "it" but I sure don't care to see it on full display! Save "it" for someone special...how 'bout it?
And while I'm on my tirade, let's discuss flannel sleep pants. When did they become streetwear? Do me a favor, huh? You keep your sleep pants in your house and bed and I'll do the same with my night gown! (Oh, that visual! Me, at the dollar store, in my satin number! Some things you just can't unsee! And I apologize for that!). Told you I was old!
Okay, I'm done.
Wednesday, January 28, 2015
Monday, January 26, 2015
The Year Of The Booty...Ha!
Okay...it's been established that I'm a late-comer to some things, like embracing cellphones or mastering homey baking...I didn't jump into fitness until I was well into my 40's. And I was wee bit late for the Rubenesque period (the early 1600's) , that time in history when "rounded , softer women were revered. (Look it up! They'd LOVE me!)
But I'm right on time for "The Year of the Booty"... a designation we've been made aware of by the proliferation of songs like "All About That Bass, "Anaconda" and whatever else they're spewing on the radio now...all hail, the big bum!
The fact that I have this ass-et isn't genetic...it isn't from hard work at the gym...It's probably more from not knowing that muscle has memory and I should've worked harder at it years ago. See, there's nothing firm about it... It just happens to be more substantial than I'd like. "The Year of the Booty"...ha!
If aging has taught me anything, it's that "beauty" - whatever our definition is, at that moment in history - fades... If we ever had "it" to begin with, it goes. New trends, new looks come and go, too. That's why we need to work on developing kind hearts... sharp and open minds... Because it's really not "All About That Bass"...it's not all about that face...it's about what's inside...and working on THAT, is the goal.
But I'm right on time for "The Year of the Booty"... a designation we've been made aware of by the proliferation of songs like "All About That Bass, "Anaconda" and whatever else they're spewing on the radio now...all hail, the big bum!
The fact that I have this ass-et isn't genetic...it isn't from hard work at the gym...It's probably more from not knowing that muscle has memory and I should've worked harder at it years ago. See, there's nothing firm about it... It just happens to be more substantial than I'd like. "The Year of the Booty"...ha!
If aging has taught me anything, it's that "beauty" - whatever our definition is, at that moment in history - fades... If we ever had "it" to begin with, it goes. New trends, new looks come and go, too. That's why we need to work on developing kind hearts... sharp and open minds... Because it's really not "All About That Bass"...it's not all about that face...it's about what's inside...and working on THAT, is the goal.
Thursday, January 22, 2015
Princess Phones and Party Lines...
Anyone who knows me knows that I've been slow to join the "smart Phone" trend. I joke that "smart phone" and "Marysue", uttered in the same sentence, really IS an oxymoron. They just don't go together. Now, don't go thinking I'm a Neanderthal. I have a simple cell phone that serves its purpose, should I need a phone when away from the "real" phone at home.
This got me to thinking how far we've come in the phone business. What now is a palm-sized accessory that goes everywhere with us, got its humble beginnings as a rather substantial item that was found in our homes. The phone in my childhood home was black, with a numbered dial, that hung on the wall in our dinette. That way, Mom could keep an eye on things in the kitchen or have a seat while conversing. Twinbrook-22642. (Not sure why I remember our number!). It was a big deal to have a phone in a bedroom and that didn't happen in our house for years...a real luxury.
For luxury, we needn't go any further than my grandmother's house. She had the first "princess phone"I ever saw (in pink, no less.) The princess phone was sleek, pretty and had push button numbers, instead of that dial that we had at home. (How's THAT for an improvement!) And it was in her bedroom! I thought that was really something, when I was in grade school. A bedside phone! And needless to say, that wasn't going to happen in OUR house anytime soon.
I'm old enough to remember "party lines"... Remember those? When we shared a phone line with someone else in town and you couldn't make a call until they were off the phone? Now, THAT was Neanderthal! And if you had a party line partner that was a blabber head, you were screwed! Luckily, the party line was short-lived in our neighborhood.
The next step to phone mobility was the cordless phone. What? You could be on the phone and actually walk away from it? No black curly cord to contend with? That was living! Next up came car phones...those dandy appliances that were wired into your car, so you could chat away when en route to somewhere. Then answering machines came along, allowing us to be away from the phone and not miss a thing.
And don't even get me started on texting! With the earliest concept of a typewriter showing up in the 1700's (a precursor to texting) and telephones following in the 1800's, it seems to me we're going backwards! What's next? Smoke signals?
Fast forward to now. Everyone has a cell phone or a smart phone. They really have changed the way we live... But have they improved communication? Having all calls (and texts), right there, at all hours of the day and night? To me, that's as bad as sharing a party line with a blabber head...okay...I AM a Neanderthal!
This got me to thinking how far we've come in the phone business. What now is a palm-sized accessory that goes everywhere with us, got its humble beginnings as a rather substantial item that was found in our homes. The phone in my childhood home was black, with a numbered dial, that hung on the wall in our dinette. That way, Mom could keep an eye on things in the kitchen or have a seat while conversing. Twinbrook-22642. (Not sure why I remember our number!). It was a big deal to have a phone in a bedroom and that didn't happen in our house for years...a real luxury.
For luxury, we needn't go any further than my grandmother's house. She had the first "princess phone"I ever saw (in pink, no less.) The princess phone was sleek, pretty and had push button numbers, instead of that dial that we had at home. (How's THAT for an improvement!) And it was in her bedroom! I thought that was really something, when I was in grade school. A bedside phone! And needless to say, that wasn't going to happen in OUR house anytime soon.
I'm old enough to remember "party lines"... Remember those? When we shared a phone line with someone else in town and you couldn't make a call until they were off the phone? Now, THAT was Neanderthal! And if you had a party line partner that was a blabber head, you were screwed! Luckily, the party line was short-lived in our neighborhood.
The next step to phone mobility was the cordless phone. What? You could be on the phone and actually walk away from it? No black curly cord to contend with? That was living! Next up came car phones...those dandy appliances that were wired into your car, so you could chat away when en route to somewhere. Then answering machines came along, allowing us to be away from the phone and not miss a thing.
And don't even get me started on texting! With the earliest concept of a typewriter showing up in the 1700's (a precursor to texting) and telephones following in the 1800's, it seems to me we're going backwards! What's next? Smoke signals?
Fast forward to now. Everyone has a cell phone or a smart phone. They really have changed the way we live... But have they improved communication? Having all calls (and texts), right there, at all hours of the day and night? To me, that's as bad as sharing a party line with a blabber head...okay...I AM a Neanderthal!
Monday, January 19, 2015
How'd We Ever Make It?
A friend of mine recently posted a picture of an old station wagon and wrote about how there were no seat belts in our cars, years ago.
That got me thinking back to family car trips and how different things are now. We have these spacious vehicles, equipped with seat belts, air bags, laws about car seats for kids. All of these have made a difference in the number and severity of injuries and one must ask...how'd WE ever make it?
I remember our family of seven, piling in a sedan for our trips...always three in the front - four in the backseat. My baby brother would be sitting up front with the folks, in what amounted to a seat made of a steel frame, with a thin plastic covering the thin seat. And what would protect his sweet face, in case of a fast stop, or heaven forbid, an accident? Oh, that would be a play plastic steering wheel, complete with a red rubber horn in the middle! Yeah, like that would save him! A far cry from the requirements now that have kids sitting in infant seats for years!
Once my brother outgrew that car seat, he had to join us in the back, while the oldest sister took her place, upfront with the folks, minus the baby seat, of course. And with no seat belts...
I remember, like it was yesterday, how my brother used to stand, in the back, directly behind my Dad - and good thing! There wasn't any more seat room for one more kid to sit! But standing in a car would be a "no no" these days, for sure! And with good reason.
I also remember so clearly some of the tiffs that would take place, no doubt because of the cramped condition of the backseat occupants. I don't recall my Dad ever threatening us with "Do you want me to turn around and go home?" Or "If I have to pull over, somebody's gonna get it!" But I DO remember "the swinging arm of the law", a maneuver, perfected by Dad, that would have his arm, hanging over the seat, ready to crack the leg of the instigator. He didn't have to use it often -maybe someone had the audacity to cross into somebody else's space or an argument ensued over whose turn it was to sit by the window. But I'm no dummy and for the better part of two years, I'm pretty sure I sat on my feet every time we got in the car. "Hah, foiled ya, Dad! Swing away!" (Yeah, like I'd have said -or even THOUGHT - that!)
As the years went on, and we kids got older, the number of "riders" in Dad and Mom's car diminished...no need for "the swinging arm" and still no seat belts in the car...I really do have to ask "How'd we ever make it?" But certainly feeling blessed that we did!
That got me thinking back to family car trips and how different things are now. We have these spacious vehicles, equipped with seat belts, air bags, laws about car seats for kids. All of these have made a difference in the number and severity of injuries and one must ask...how'd WE ever make it?
I remember our family of seven, piling in a sedan for our trips...always three in the front - four in the backseat. My baby brother would be sitting up front with the folks, in what amounted to a seat made of a steel frame, with a thin plastic covering the thin seat. And what would protect his sweet face, in case of a fast stop, or heaven forbid, an accident? Oh, that would be a play plastic steering wheel, complete with a red rubber horn in the middle! Yeah, like that would save him! A far cry from the requirements now that have kids sitting in infant seats for years!
Once my brother outgrew that car seat, he had to join us in the back, while the oldest sister took her place, upfront with the folks, minus the baby seat, of course. And with no seat belts...
I remember, like it was yesterday, how my brother used to stand, in the back, directly behind my Dad - and good thing! There wasn't any more seat room for one more kid to sit! But standing in a car would be a "no no" these days, for sure! And with good reason.
I also remember so clearly some of the tiffs that would take place, no doubt because of the cramped condition of the backseat occupants. I don't recall my Dad ever threatening us with "Do you want me to turn around and go home?" Or "If I have to pull over, somebody's gonna get it!" But I DO remember "the swinging arm of the law", a maneuver, perfected by Dad, that would have his arm, hanging over the seat, ready to crack the leg of the instigator. He didn't have to use it often -maybe someone had the audacity to cross into somebody else's space or an argument ensued over whose turn it was to sit by the window. But I'm no dummy and for the better part of two years, I'm pretty sure I sat on my feet every time we got in the car. "Hah, foiled ya, Dad! Swing away!" (Yeah, like I'd have said -or even THOUGHT - that!)
As the years went on, and we kids got older, the number of "riders" in Dad and Mom's car diminished...no need for "the swinging arm" and still no seat belts in the car...I really do have to ask "How'd we ever make it?" But certainly feeling blessed that we did!
Thursday, January 15, 2015
It Just SEEMS That Way...
My husband's gone tonight - on the road, doing what he does well and likes doing... He travels for his job sometimes and seems to enjoy it. He quips that he's "not working a day past age 80" and as long as his health holds out and he's needed, that'll happen...I'm sure of it! His absence tonight got me to thinking of the past and the memories of his being gone, albeit briefly, through the years.
When the kids were young (3 under 5) I remember the feeling, in the pit of my stomach, as hubby packed his bag. "How was I going to ride herd on this crew alone?" I remember standing at the front door, with two boys in front of me and holding one, crying, like a baby. (ME, not the one I was holding!) Hubby was never gone for long -it just SEEMED that way!
As the boys got older, it seemed that, if crazy things were going to happen, it would be when Dad was on the road. We laugh about it now but emergency room visits, speeding tickets, lackluster grades at school, seemed to be more likely to happen with Dad gone. Luckily, I had family close and leaned on them plenty. And again, hubby was never gone long...it just SEEMED that way.
It wasn't all bad, being a part-time "single parent", back then. Meal time was easier (How hard is pizza?) and I used to do projects, like the ones I spoke of in another blog post. I have a greater respect, now, for the real "single parents," who don't get that relief that comes when Dad walks through the door.
I'll be glad when hubby gets home from this trip...I DO miss the comfortable routine we have. I don't stand at the door, crying, these days, when he pulls out of the driveway. With the boys grown up and gone, there's little drama when Dad's gone. Just me and the dog. Yep - I'm always happy when hubby gets home...he's never gone long...it just SEEMS that way.
When the kids were young (3 under 5) I remember the feeling, in the pit of my stomach, as hubby packed his bag. "How was I going to ride herd on this crew alone?" I remember standing at the front door, with two boys in front of me and holding one, crying, like a baby. (ME, not the one I was holding!) Hubby was never gone for long -it just SEEMED that way!
As the boys got older, it seemed that, if crazy things were going to happen, it would be when Dad was on the road. We laugh about it now but emergency room visits, speeding tickets, lackluster grades at school, seemed to be more likely to happen with Dad gone. Luckily, I had family close and leaned on them plenty. And again, hubby was never gone long...it just SEEMED that way.
It wasn't all bad, being a part-time "single parent", back then. Meal time was easier (How hard is pizza?) and I used to do projects, like the ones I spoke of in another blog post. I have a greater respect, now, for the real "single parents," who don't get that relief that comes when Dad walks through the door.
I'll be glad when hubby gets home from this trip...I DO miss the comfortable routine we have. I don't stand at the door, crying, these days, when he pulls out of the driveway. With the boys grown up and gone, there's little drama when Dad's gone. Just me and the dog. Yep - I'm always happy when hubby gets home...he's never gone long...it just SEEMS that way.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Salvation or Fashion?
As I was sitting in church -the church of my youth -some memories came flooding back. (Forgive me, Lord, for letting my mind wander...)
I got back to doing what I was in church for but after Mass, I continued my reminiscing.
My thoughts centered around a childhood friend...well, really, she was my older sister's best friend. They included me occasionally -usually when something needed to get done that would get those two in trouble. Like calling boys to find out if those boys "liked" either of them. Or if they needed a scapegoat for anything mischievous they'd get into.
To say this friend was ornery would be an understatement. Nothing really hurtful, but as the youngest in her family, with older parents, "she" got away with a lot!
On one occasion, "she" (I really shouldn't use her name...) convinced my naive sister that a bonus item that came with a nail polish purchase at the neighborhood drugstore was "free"...WITHOUT the purchase. When my sister proudly showed our horrified Mom her "free" bounty, Mom marched them back to the drugstore to apologize to the store owner. (Can you say "shoplifting"? Kids today would probably get a rap sheet out of that kind of move!). Breaking a street light? Dad escorted them to the corner, with brooms in hand, to clean up the result of their rock-throwing. (The rap sheet would grow.)
The reason I thought of this friend in church the other night was that we are Catholic. "She" was not. But "she" was always up for going with us to the summer novena or benediction or Stations of the Cross at our church. I think Mom thought of her inclusion in these services as some kind of salvation but I'm convinced that "she" went because "she" thought "she" looked good in a chapel veil or a mantilla.
My sister's best friend moved away when "she" was in the 6th grade. It was a sad day at our house but we joke now that her moving probably kept my sister out of the Juvenile Detention Center!
My sister and her friend remained close -despite the distance - for years. "She" passed away awhile ago, after suffering a debilitating illness for years. "She" outgrew her orneriness but always had that twinkle in her eye that said "she" was up to something.
I like to think that those hours spent in church with us erased all the trouble "she" got herself (and my sister) into, those many years ago. I hope that's the case. And I'm thinking, the next time I'm in church, I'll probably think of her again. And I'll tell her she really DID look pretty good in a chapel veil.
I got back to doing what I was in church for but after Mass, I continued my reminiscing.
My thoughts centered around a childhood friend...well, really, she was my older sister's best friend. They included me occasionally -usually when something needed to get done that would get those two in trouble. Like calling boys to find out if those boys "liked" either of them. Or if they needed a scapegoat for anything mischievous they'd get into.
To say this friend was ornery would be an understatement. Nothing really hurtful, but as the youngest in her family, with older parents, "she" got away with a lot!
On one occasion, "she" (I really shouldn't use her name...) convinced my naive sister that a bonus item that came with a nail polish purchase at the neighborhood drugstore was "free"...WITHOUT the purchase. When my sister proudly showed our horrified Mom her "free" bounty, Mom marched them back to the drugstore to apologize to the store owner. (Can you say "shoplifting"? Kids today would probably get a rap sheet out of that kind of move!). Breaking a street light? Dad escorted them to the corner, with brooms in hand, to clean up the result of their rock-throwing. (The rap sheet would grow.)
The reason I thought of this friend in church the other night was that we are Catholic. "She" was not. But "she" was always up for going with us to the summer novena or benediction or Stations of the Cross at our church. I think Mom thought of her inclusion in these services as some kind of salvation but I'm convinced that "she" went because "she" thought "she" looked good in a chapel veil or a mantilla.
My sister's best friend moved away when "she" was in the 6th grade. It was a sad day at our house but we joke now that her moving probably kept my sister out of the Juvenile Detention Center!
My sister and her friend remained close -despite the distance - for years. "She" passed away awhile ago, after suffering a debilitating illness for years. "She" outgrew her orneriness but always had that twinkle in her eye that said "she" was up to something.
I like to think that those hours spent in church with us erased all the trouble "she" got herself (and my sister) into, those many years ago. I hope that's the case. And I'm thinking, the next time I'm in church, I'll probably think of her again. And I'll tell her she really DID look pretty good in a chapel veil.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
The Pigeon or the Statue?
"Some days you're the pigeon, some days you're the statue."
Last week, there was a day I was definitely the statue! I had doo-doo dumped on me the whole day!
The day started out innocently enough. Had my morning coffee, and was on my way. Granted, this time of year has me moving at a faster pace, and I was in a "holiday hurry". At least that's why I think I took out the mirror on the side of my car. Darn! It was my hurried state or my vision really IS as bad as I suspect. That daggone garage door frame just wouldn't get out of my way!
I work part time for a car dealership so it was no big deal to run into the service department and tell the guys my plight. They said they'd order the part and let me know when they could repair it. Good enough - so I was off to another destination, probably again in a hurried state.
Now, what are the chances hubby would be bringing the company car into the service department that same morning? And what are the chances the service fella would hand hubby the estimate for MY car, (which hubby knew nothing about yet) to give to me? How was the service guy to know my husband hadn't been told about my mishap yet? He was just doing his job. And I was going to eventually tell hubby what I'd done...just not yet. Was hubby mad? Naa... He's used to my ways and after 42 years, I don't think he'll kick me to the curb over a broken car part. A $400.00 repair....Hmmm...I sure hope not anyway!
Okay, so that other destination I mentioned before, was in a part of town that had parking meters. No big deal...put my money in the slot and went onto my appointment. The way my day was going, of course, I would return to my car to see a parking ticket, affixed to the windshield! (There's that pigeon again!) How come I'm in a hurry - except when getting to my car, in time, to avoid a ticket?
I'm home now and I think I may just stay put til things settle down (and the need to hurry) is over. Curled up in a chair, with a blanket, causing no harm or damage... Who am I kidding? I'll be out and about like everyone else...racing to get things done. But would someone please answer me this?
Aren't pigeons supposed to fly south for the winter? I sure wish they would!
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