PINK SLIME

Oh and ooh and yuk. Pink slime? Not sure about what it is, but don’t like it. No matter what it is I still don’t like it. And I know that once I find out what it is I will not like it even more than I didn’t like it before I knew .

Is it a new horror movie, like the one with the green goo spilling all over the city? Is it a new TV show like The Hulk, who is green and has super, amazing strength? The actor, Lou Ferrigno, is now a contestant on Donald Trump’s TV show, “Celebrity Apprentice.”  Perhaps it’s a new super power woman who turns pink with power, and reveals all the bad guys on Wall Street. Could it be a cute animal super hero who turns vats of a gooey pink slime over the bad guys, disabling them until the police arrive?

But pink slime is worse than that. It is an additive that manufacturers add to ground beef. You know, ground beef as in hamburgers of the future?

The additive is a low cost ammonia-treated ground beef filler. It is perfectly safe, says the Agriculture Department. I believe everything government agencies tell us, don’t you? Doesn’t everybody? It is sold to schools for use in school lunches and sold to supermarkets to enhance their patties. What makes it pink? More color additives, or naturally caused elements that come from animals and turn everything pink because it once was red. Blood red. Need I spell it out more clearly?

As I read the news and realize that time is closing in on lunch I invite you all to join me in a nice, juicy hamburger at Mac Donald’s, Wendy’s, Burger King, or any other place of your choice.

Or maybe I can tempt you with a bowl of crisp green salad?

MURDERERS OR ANIMAL LOVERS?

I was ten and he was eight. I was the big sister and he the little brother until the day I turned forty. From then on, by mutual consent, more mutual on my part than his, he became my big brother.

Back then we acquired a pet hamster whom we shared and cared for. One of us cared and shared more than the other, but that’s not the point of the story.

We named the hamster Sniffy because of the funny way his nose twitched. When his nose twitched his whiskers twitched, making him appear to be sniffing. Or having a bad case of St.Vitus Dance.

Sniffy lived in a luxurious cage by hamster standards consisting of a spa quality running wheel and gourmet food and water dishes. The cage had full time security in the form of a lock and key. Hamster ownership was a serious responsibility not to be fooled around with. We chose a hiding spot for the key, and promised never to allow Sniffy to roam free without supervision.

We, of course, were the supervisors, the jailers and the feeding and cleaning staff. We alternated tasks and vowed to do our jobs diligently, regularly and timely.

So sincere were we about our service to Sniffy that we drew up a contract. “We the undersigned to solemnly agree to keep the location of the key to Sniffy’s cage secret from plundering eyes and other destructive forces. If either of us reveal the location of the key we would forfeit our share of Sniffy.

All precautions considered, somehow one day we discovered the horrifying fact that our hamster had escaped from his barred apartment. How did this happen? How did he get out of the cage? Whose carelessness allowed this mysterious event to occur? Where was Sniffy now, and how will we ever find him?

Our fearless sibling team put together a plan based on the Hansel and Gretel story of our youth. Even though at ages eight and ten, we thought of ourselves as grown up.

We set a trail of bread crumbs leading back to his cage. No matter where in the house he is hiding one sniff of the crumbs will roust Sniffy onto the trail and lead him right back to his cage.

But we didn’t take Tippy into consideration. She was our six year old dog who was usually asleep: was never a threat or particular interest to anybody or thing.

But somehow the presence of breadcrumbs on the floor challenged something in her hunting dog ancestral background and she lapped every one from the floor.

So poor Tippy got tied up in her own home (the indignity of it all!) while we set the breadcrumb trap again. It proved to us that only dogs, not hamsters, greedily eat bread crumbs from the floor. Tippy was freed when no hamsters near of far showed a crumb of interest in crumbs.

The mystery was never solved, but some interesting theories evolved.

1. Perhaps Sniffy found a home in a mouse hole, developed a love of cheese, and lived happily ever after with mouse friends.
2. Maybe Sniffy squeezed under the door and made her way outside and to the bright lights of Broadway, where she became star of the Hamster Circus.
3. She became the pet of a wealthy old codger, who plied her evermore with riches beyond a hamster’s wildest dreams.
4. Perhaps she died.

OUTER AND INTERNET

We’re warned about it and yet some of us defy reason and common sense and do it anyway. It was my idea, and I somehow convinced two other adventurers to join me in my latest escapade.

But it’s not all as frivolous and mindless as it may first appear to be.

In the year that I have been blogging I’ve had some  surprises.The biggest surprise was forming relationships with other bloggers to whom I never will speak, meet, or see. Yet I am more involved with some of their lives than I am with neighbors in my own town.

I’ve been taken to Oklahoma by a lovely, talented woman, Celi of “kitchensgarden” She describes her gardens, her animals and her recipes. I know all her animals by name.

I’ve been taken to India, where Shaheen writes beautiful poetry on “bloodinkdiary”. And “jakesprinter” of the Philippines creates clever animated scenes.

I love the humor blogs. “Goodhumored” by Paprika Furstenberg, mainstreetmusingsblog by Lisa Tognola and lifeinthe boomerlane are some of my favorites. A clever, enjoyable site is themiddlestsister. The creator of this blog  cuts and pastes her characters out of felt, depicting home life with five young daughters. I’ve been reading posts by these talented writers for many months and am delighted with their cleverness and skill.

Through the comments about my stories over time I realized that two of my favorite humor bloggers lived nearby.

Would it be fun for the three of us to meet, or would it be better to enjoy the fantasy of who they were, what they looked like and how they sounded in person?

Reality trumped fantasy and I emailed each of them to suggest a three way meeting. There was definitely some indecision at first; none of us ever planned to meet any of our readers and we were doing just fine moving along on the fantasy track.

Eventually curiosity won out and we set a date to meet for lunch in a town nearby. I was excited about the date. What would happen? Who were these writing whizzes? Would we be quipping and joking all afternoon?

Saturday I made my way to Gillette, New Jersey for the big meeting.

Paprika was there first. When I saw her red hair (paprika) I had a feeling I knew who she was. She greeted us with a  warm, genuine smile. We hugged as if we were old buddies. Lisa, whose photo is shown on her blog, curly hair framing her friendly face, had the same instinct.

And there we were, three friends sharing the same involvement of writing and blogging, We enjoyed “talking shop,” exchanging ideas, and discussing some blogger experiences.

“Do you answer all your comments?”

“Have readers responded to your being ‘Freshly Pressed’ stayed on as subscribers?”

“Do you attend writers’ conferences?”

And we gossiped about bloggers we all knew: “He’s funny and entertaining, but he doesn’t know where to draw the line.”

We agreed that the best part of the experience was meeting people from other parts of the country, from other countries, and widely varying life-styles and vocations.

I am so glad that I defied common sense about what we should never do, and followed my instincts to get to know some of these talented, friendly and warm people who are now part of my life.

FORBIDDEN RENDEZVOUS

Today I am doing something that we are warned never to do. I am meeting someone for lunch. Someone I don’t know. Someone from the internet.

All my creative blogger friends, I call upon you to predict what the meeting will be like. How will it work out? Will there be surprises? Will this person be anything like my image from exchanging posts over the past months?

Please write your predictions, your reactions to this daring stunt, and your opinions of the wisdom of this adventurous move.

Tiniest Tortoise Star: Taronga Zoo Australia (Video)

Reblogged from Magsx2's Blog:

This tiny little tortoise that was born at Taronga Zoo in Sydney is a called a “Star Tortoise” and they are originally from India. They are slightly different than your normal tortoise because of the star like patterns on their backs. This tiny little tortoise is named “Little Guy” and was only 1 week old when the video was taken.

Read more… 52 more words

This is another tiny animal found in India and comes to us from Sydney, Australia. After all of you own miniature monkeys, pictured in my story, MY SECRET FRIEND, perhaps you can put in your orders for one of these small and curious pets. Ronnie

CARING, SHARING FRIENDS

“Oh, is this the weekend of the big wedding? I can’t wait to hear about it on Monday!”

This is what each friend tells me. Such enthusiasm. Such great friends. Such caring.  I’ll tell them every detail after the weekend. They’ll be spellbound when I describe how the couple arrived at the reception.

As with most special events, although the planning goes on endlessly, the actual event seems to last about twenty-five minutes in real time.

After it was over I asked myself,   Who did I speak to? Did I remember to see everyone? Did I miss any of the hors d’oeuvres?”

Monday morning I meet my friends at our “Politics Against Politicians” meeting, knowing how much they’re looking forward to hearing about every aspect of the wedding.

I hope I remember everything. They’ll want to know all the details.  When I arrived three of them were already seated, but the meeting had not yet begun.

“How was the wedding?” asked Margo.

“Oh, yes, chimed in Sabrina, we want to hear all about it.”

“Tell us everything,” added Diane.  “It was a beautiful wedding, I began. The weather was perfect, and the…”

“Oh, I can just imagine, interrupted Diane. When my sister got married last May it was a picture perfect day.”

“You’re so lucky, re-chimed Sabrina, Our wedding took place on the rainiest day of the century. We could have hired gondolas to help people get there.”

Before I could get another word into their wedding memories Margo abruptly changed the theme of our discussion.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you whether you heard last week’s debate. I thought it was repetitious. Nobody made a point we haven’t heard before.I am getting discouraged.”

I’m the one who is getting discouraged. They all dismissed my wedding stories after I said; wait a minute; what did they give me a chance to say?

My feelings might have been hurt a little, but all is not lost. I’ll have another chance. Just wait until I tell them about my upcoming Safari to Botswana.

They will be so fascinated to hear about it.

SMALL SECRET FRIEND

As a child my favorite book was the adventures of Poppy.  Poppy was a doll who miraculously came to life, becoming a tiny girl about 8 inches tall. She became a loving and caring companion to the young heroine of the story, who coincidently, was just my age.

How this idea captivated me; the thought of having such a special, unusual friend. The idea captured my imagination, and I wished I could have a “Poppy” too. I made wishes on “The first star I see tonight,” wishes on wishbones and wishes on top of the first two wishes.

How great it would be to have a little Poppy. I could have such a good time making things for her: a little bed out of a matchbook case, tiny pillows from scraps of fabric and miniature blankets out of bits of wool.

She could eat a Cheerio or two for breakfast with an eye dropper full of milk, a sandwich I would make for her, constructed of two cornflakes with a peanut butter and grape jam filling for lunch, and a postage sized pizza for dinner.

I could use maple tree seed pods (which we used to call “Polly noses”) as spoons, and find all sorts of ways to fashion ordinary objects into useful tools for an 8 inch person. And she could come everywhere with me. She would be very comfortable in my fanny pack.

I never did figure out how to get a real life “Poppy” of my own, but I found the next best thing.

We all know that monkeys are the closest relatives to humans, right?

I discovered a monkey so small that it is called a “finger monkey.” Full grown, it fits into a human hand and hangs onto a finger with it’s paws.

These monkeys are the tiniest living primates in the world.

Will they be  available as pets some day? Will they be able to acclimate to our climate after living in the rain forests of South America? Could they be trained, housetrained, and no-bite trained? I don’t know, but now I can dream of another small creature to  nurture, teach and befriend.

I can just see him, swinging from lampshades, scurrying into the pantry seeking snacks, and commandeering a pot holder for his bed.

He’d probably learn to do cartwheels and somersaults. All the neighborhood children would line up to see him. He’d be a bigger hit than Clifford the Big Red Dog. A greater hero than Rin Tin Tin. More curious and smarter than Curious George.

There’s no end to the projects we could plan. When can I have a finger monkey?

Kreativ Blogger Award

Valentine’s Day was extra special this year; I was awarded the Kreative Blogger Award by Sylvia Morice. We met through reading and commenting on someone else’s blog. I greatly respect and enjoy Sylvia’s posts, and recommend them to anyone looking for excellent writing that is a treat to read. I always make time to read her posts, no matter how busy the day becomes.

As part of my obligation I must reveal 10 things about myself that you don’t know.

1) Ayn Rand’s books had a huge impact on me, not to say that I now follow her politics.

2) The older I get the more I appreciate Dr.Seuss.

3) The best thing about having children is the freedom it gives to be silly, play and giggle.

4) Front sections of  newspapers are so depressing that I reach for the Food , Styles and Science sections.

5) I love going to the theater, although I must admit that when the experience is over I often wonder if the hassle of getting there was worth it.

6) My current dilemma is whether to wear my glasses fulltime. The downside is that I look geeky. The positive is that it covers the under eye circles.

7) My brother and I still share memories of our parents and our experiences growing up. It makes me wonder what stories my children and grandchildren will remember about me.

8) I was once a good guitarist. But long isolating practices took too much time out of my life every day. So now I write a blog, which takes hours out of my life every day.

9) I can tolerate stories about sad things that happen to people. But not sad stories about  animals.

10) The most depressing news I had recently is that I shrunk 1  1/2 inches.

My next happy obligation is to award fellow bloggers with the Kreativ Blogger Award,

1) Main Street Musings Blog

2) The Mainland

3) If I Were Brave

4) Bela’s Bright Ideas

5) The Kitchens Garden

6) This Little Lark

7) My Little Corner of Rhode Island

8) Linda Vernon Humor

9) How the hell did I end up here

10) magsx2

Good luck to all the wonderful bloggers I’ve had the pleasure of meeting through wordpress.

NEW CARS, NEW SECRETS AND YOU

Word hasn’t circulated publicly yet. That’s part of what makes this information so compelling. I’ve pulled a few strings and used some of my high placed connections in the car industry. They’ve entrusted me with trade secrets of their developing new ideas.

Until now designers’ focus has been on style: sleeker, sexier, cooler.  Driving new models, they told us, will make us savvier, sexier and more desireable. But people are getting smarter about advertising’s tomfoolery. We who might have been suckered in when we were younger and more gullible, no longer believe car companies’ promises that buying their product will grant the perfect body, perfect complexions, and perfect long hair, preferable blonde, flying in the breeze.

The fact that an enormous number of baby boomers are reaching their 60s finally impresses the manufacturers. Cars will now follow the demands of the consumers with the money.

Keeping their buyers’ identities in mind, the new windshields will be outfitted with wide bands of varilux lenses, offering drivers total viewing options, no matter what their prescription glasses dictate. Distances will be clearer, even at night. Thanks to the US Army, night vision goggle technology will be duplicated in new car windshields. Signs will be readable. Pedestrians will be easy to recognize. Signs in store windows, especially “SALE” signs, will finally be readable without causing fender benders. No longer will accidents happen because a driver slammed on the brakes to read details of  “big savings” or an “annual blowout” notice.

The comfort of the new car seats is now unmatched. The drivers’ seats will be ergonomically designed and individually adjustable. Lumbar support pillows will be released at the touch of a button, and cervical supports will cradle the neck and shoulders. Radiant heat will target stiff or injured areas, bringing instant physical therapy to the driver. And there will be extra sets of shock absorbers installed under drivers’ seats to ease the bumps that aggravate aching backs, caused by the shock of bouncing over flattened carcasses of road kill.

A new interactive button will be standard and will speak. When the driver, having a senior moment, asks, “Where am I going?” The car will answer “To Dr. Taylor, your chiropractor.”

Arthritic knees will rejoice in the new weightless environment being developed. Space technology is being used to perform weightless sensations in the new models, and this weightlessness will take pressure off painful backs. Spinal stenosis patients will experience the new hyperbaric chamber on the road.

At the touch of another button, pills of choice will emerge from the visor. The visor will be pre-stocked with acid reducing pills, anti nausea pills and pain pills. No more will headaches, car sickness or heartburn hamper travel in the new generation of cars.

So rush out to your nearest car dealer and sign on for information about scheduled delivery dates for the exciting new “Drive Younger” models.

CLOSING TIME

They want to close it. I understand the “why,” but how about the “how?” How could a town as large as Morristown be left post-office-less?

The letter came in the mail and included a survey. We were asked to answer all the questions that would help decide the future of Morristown’s Post Office. Can it be that citizens actually have a voice in Post Office decisions? Can it be within my power to stop the close-happy powers in their slimy tracks?

I will help save this needed facility. I will protect the jobs of all the employees working there. I’ll let the survey senders know how valuable the post office is to our town.

Here are some of the questions they asked to determine whether this post office is necessary: all I have to do is check the column of uses as “Daily, Weekly, Monthly, Twice a Year or Never.”

The questions on the questionnaire looked easy enough: do I buy stamps there, “yes’’.   But daily? monthly? once in a decade? I buy stamps when letters bounce back warning, “needs more postage.” If they would stop raising the price of stamps by one penny I’d have stamps with the right postage.  

But then came the nastier, trickier questions.

1) Buying stamp-collecting material. No. I have never been attracted to the sedentary style of this hobby. I much prefer walking, swimming, or hot-air balloon riding. Therefore I do not buy stamp collector materials here or anywhere. I had to check the “never” box.

2) Entering permit or bulk mailings. Could they mean the birthday present I send Aunt Gertrude every April 28th? That’s probably not what the P.O. means at all. Since I don’t do bulk mailings I had to check “never” again.

3) Obtaining federal agency forms like selective service or duck stamps. OK: I give up; what are duck stamps? No, I’m afraid I’ve never asked for one, since I don’t know what they are. Selective service? ME? Nope, not that either. Get ready for another “never.”

4) School Bus Stop: What does that have to do with the post office? This is getting silly.

5) Community gathering place: I can see it now: “Friends of Night Crawlers’ Association” will meet at the post office for our annual meeting.”  Ridiculous. Of course nobody uses the post office as a gathering place. Must I check another “never” box?

If these are the kinds of activities the Morristown Post Office sponsors, and so many “never” boxes were checked, maybe they’re right.

Now I wonder why post offices were invented at all.