Here's to tree houses and forts, bubbles in the air and camp fires blazing, here's to magic and happiness.
I wish you all a lovey weekend.
Found this image on Studio G. I spent 2 (maybe more) hours on this blog, Rochelle is a woman after my own heart. This is a perfect weekend read, that is if you are unable to get out there and get dirty.
You may need to stop at the women's restroom . . . be prepared!
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't -
so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance."
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).. That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible.
It's still smaller than your thumbnail ..
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet. "Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT. It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late.. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try. You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then
slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long... It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!
My Neighbor Emailed this to me, I hope you all are crying and you sides ache(a real good laugh will do that)
First off I wanted to thank all of you for the lovily comments, they really stroked my ego, you know, the one that I am trying to dissolve. (Reading The Art of Happiness and loving every bit).
As for this post, it is about something that has been pulling at my heartstrings for years now, Australia. I would love to live there someday but for the time being I will be happy with visiting, so I have entered a contest to win a trip for two on a wine tasting get-a-way. It is called Taste your way around Australia. I have played their little wine tasting game 75 times now, my goal is 200. (each time you play it is another chance to win) My chances to win are high, but since I never win anything, I don't feel overly confident. I have become an Australian wine expert through this little challenge.
My persistance will pay off one day and one day I will be in Oz. Enjoy, Heidi
The other day I got this crazy idea to take a picture of myself in a mirror like I have seen all around blog land. I see lots of blogs and lots of blogger's families, but what I really like to see is the actual blogger so I can put a face with the name. I am using our old camera since my mortician husband took my new one to a mortician's convention and left it at the hotel. I clearly remember telling him not to take it because what was he going to take pictures of, other morticians? Gross. Well, so long new camera, and who ever has it now is enjoying all of the pictures I took of my little boy rolling snow balls during our blizzard and his little crack showing.
This one is a little better. You can see on my cheek a blotchy red patch which has turned out to be a ringworm. Nice, I have koodies.
Since my folks paid for me to have braces, I better smile with my teeth. Notice I did not photoshop out my angry elevens between my brows, I earned those babies from squinting in the Texas sun. I have always felt vain and concieted about taking my own picture. When my friend heard me say that once she told me to get over it. Hope you enjoyed my shoot, now I dare all of you to do the same. Heidi
I slept so hard, apparently on my face that I woke up with one seriously derranged eyebrow. Those hairs seemed to be permently krimped, bent and something only a flatiron could straighten. So I plucked out half my brow and drew it back in. These kinds of things happen when you find yourself sleeping in heaven or when you re-rock an entire wall on the outside of your house.
(sleeping hard that is)
Here are some heavenly beds to feast your eyes on. Enjoy, Heidi
Getting all geared up for the big Kitchen Renovation. I can't believe that it is finally happening. I have lived in this 136 year old drug store building for 16 years and we are going to have a bright shiny new kitchen. I'm glad in a way that it is happening now because I got to find the most perfect images to help me decide on all of the details, thank you blogland. Enjoy, Heidi
There will be a sink/dish washer island.
House and Garden. There will be a range in the center of the room on the back wall, oh yeah... and 13' celings.
Traditional Home. The dining table will be in the room as well, kinda like this but not exactly.
I love this range hood and range but don't think I have the cashola to pull it off.
Looks like open shelving too instead of cabinetry.
Still trying to decide if I am going to paint the floors black or white?