Lizards

Here's a conversation that this Northern Girl never imagined she'd ever hear, let alone be interested in: how to remove a lizard from the house.

 

One friend throws a dishtowel over the lizard, scoops it up, carries it outside and shakes it out.  The other said she just carries it out on a spatula.

"Really?  The lizard will sit on the spatula long enough for you to carry it out of the house?"

"It will if it's been inside long enough."

I was relating this story to a gal who grew up in Florida and she told me her mother didn't remove stray lizards from the house.  She just let them live inside.  "Lizards eat bugs,"  my friend said.  "Why would you want to take them out of the house?"

After I finished mentally singing a few verses of that kid's song about the old lady who swallowed a fly, I decided any lizard who wandered inside our house would be unceremoniously escorted back outside. Unless...can lizards be litter trained?

If

I bought this book yesterday called If. It's a book full of questions to ponder.  It seemed like a fun way to exercise my brain and exercising more is always something I think about in January.

The first question was "If you could have just one wish, what would it be?" I thought about it all day, defining, deciding and then refining.  During my spare time, I agonized over this.  If I have only one wish, I want to make sure it counts.  Finally I was satisfied with my wish.

When Jerry came home, I asked him the same question. "That's easy!" he said. "World peace."

I've married Miss America.

Maybe he's wondering how he'll look in a tiara?



My Twin

Imagine my excitement at lunch today when my daughter Kate informed me that one of her friends is my identical twin! (Haven't we all had that secret fantasy that we were switched at birth and that our real family will suddenly rush into our lives to claim us as their own ~ maybe even later today? ...and wasn't there always an identical twin in that scenario too?)

Well my twin sister is a guy, at least thirty years younger than I am and has a different mother. Other than that, we're identical. Oh, yeah, apparently he tolerates his liquor better than I do too, but that's the only other difference. That and the fact that he's a foot taller than me and we have opposite political, religious and social views. We don't like the same types of movies or music either and I'm not even sure that he puts both marshmallows and whipped cream in his hot chocolate like I do. He may even (gag) eat meat. But that's totally it. Besides those minor differences, we are one-in-the-same. Seriously.



That shadow on Erik's shirt?  A drink.  Maybe he can't "hold his liquor" after all!

If I get to add an identical, taller, male, younger twin to my inner circle at this late date, I'm glad that it's Erik. He's got a wicked sense of humor, laughs a lot and dresses a heck of a lot better than I do. I can learn a trick or two from that guy.

So welcome to the family, Erik my twin. Want to switch places for a while?  You could come down here to cook and clean at my house and I could go up there and have my own radio show. Nobody would even know the difference. That's the beauty of being identical twins.

P.S. Do you know what happened to our real mom and dad?

Liquor Lightweight



The vacation martini and me:  BEFORE

I'm a liquor light-weight.  I know it but I don't care.  I'm not gonna say that I never drink because I can be persuaded to have a refreshing mojito on a hot summer's day. I also have had an occasional drink on vacation and Lord knows I loved that Nutty Irishman that Martin made me five years ago in February.  (I've tried to replicate it in my own kitchen more than once, with limited success.)   


  ... and AFTER

Wine doesn't call to me at all either.  The only wines that I'll even consent to try are either sugarier than Kool-Aid or ice wines (made from frozen grapes) which are a bit too pricey for cheap little me.  Beer?  Why even go there? The point here is I can take or leave alcohol and mostly I choose to leave it.  Knowing this about me, you'd think that I'd be a shoe-in for designated driver, wouldn't you?

You'd be wrong.  Today when I started my car, the air conditioning came roaring to life, that's how rarely I drive.  I'm the least-experienced driver in almost every group I'm ever in.  Some family members are even afraid to ride with me.  And, if they've had even one drink, I am afraid to ride with them, too.  (After all, I know how I feel after "just one!")

To remedy this sticky situation, we choose to host lots of functions at our house. Mostly neighbors will come to these affairs and if they get so drunk that  they wake up the next morning not knowing how they got home, well for all they know I could have been their designated walker. 
 

The Queen

I do not live in a monarchy but if I did, I already know what role I would fulfill.  I would be queen.

I know this because years ago I was given a crown of gold....by my dentist.  Well, technically I paid for it.  (We all know that even the best health insurance will only cover a small portion of the cost of dental restoration.)  But let's not quibble!  The point here is that I possess a golden crown and I never even take it off (like some other queens who will remain nameless.)  I wear my crown 24/7. 

As a rule, people never notice my crown because it's way in the back of my mouth.  It would be easy enough to show off and point it out but I don't.  I don't have to.  I know I'm a queen whether anyone else realizes it or not.  On days when I'm feeling especially regal and want the whole world to see it, I wear my tiara.  Most of the time though, I just live my life as a queen incognito. 

I have been living the dream now for many years; I don't brag about it though because that wouldn't behoove a queen.  We queens don't need to brag.  Being a queen is enough in and of itself.

For years my husband has led a happy and productive life as a prince consort ~ or so I thought.  Lately I have become suspicious.  I've noticed that he's been going to the dentist a lot these past weeks.  In my innocence, I thought that he'd already met his yearly deductible and wanted to max out his dental benefits before 2012 ended.  That seemed like a fiscally prudent thing to do, right? Then yesterday - just two days into the new year -he went to the dentist and came home with his own crown.  Is he attempting a coup?

He says that this crown is only temporary and that he waited until 2013 to get it because insurance will pay more toward it.  I'm not sure. What if this is just an ingenious cover story?  I'm keeping my eye on him.  In a couple of weeks he'll get his permanent crown and then the world will see if it's gold or if it's an ordinary white one (which, in my mind, befits the station of a prince consort.) 

Until then I'm on high alert.  He's going to have to taste all my food before I eat it and if I catch him trying on my tiara when he thinks I'm not looking, mark my words: there will be hell to pay.