Archive for the ‘ WOO-HOO ’ Category

Cam has been working on a project and it has been in the works for months.

He finished it up and originally posted on Monday, March 9, here.

The page views on that original post as of Friday is up to over 30,000 which does not take into consideration the countless tweets and blogs that link to the large version of the image directly and countless more linking to other blogs that have it on their sites.  To show you what I mean, this is a link to direct Google hits.

His two inboxes are full of requests for prints as well as multiple offers for printing.  A professor at Cal Tech wants the image in his next year’s 5th edition textbook “Visual Communication Images with Messages” to which Cam already replied “Of course!”.

A company is interested in creating a large wall decal of the image.

He is holding out for his favorite printing company Hammerpress.  He is in talks with the owner and waiting (im)patiently for the final details.

I cannot believe the stir he’s caused in the world of graphic design.  All this from the little brother who’s toothbrush I used, in days gone by, to clean the grout around the toilet.

No, I am really SO very proud of him and can’t wait to see how all this unfolds.  When you click on the links, be sure and read all the comments.  He really is a quite amazing guy.

Now I bet he’s gonna want to be paid for any blog work I get… Sheesh. 😉

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hal-le-lu-jah!  Tanya showed up, on time, with a smile on her cheery little face and went in and woke up H in sweet way and started singing A Spoon Full of Sugar like Mary Freakin Poppins took care of business.  Lisa and her grandmother showed up to pick me up after I showed her about the breakfast regime.  (First course, oatmeal with a dose of Miralax and cut up prunes. After this has been consumed and she’s been burped the egg gets scrambled and cooked while the breakfast sausage and roll or toast, whatever she has indicated she wants, gets warmed/toasted. Put on plate with salt and pepper and jelly on bread.  She likes salad forks, not dinner forks.  What’s that?  Oh, because she’s weird, that’s why.)

We went to Hobby Lobby, Garden Ridge Pottery and out to eat at Cheddars.  No, it’s not a cheesy place.  I don’t know why it has such a horrible name.  Really good food.  We had a wonderful time.

Kes came home from school in time for me to stay out as long as I wanted with Lisa and Mimi.  We had loads of fun.

I came home and now H is fed and in bed and I am waiting for my hubby to come home as it is our 20th anniversary! I got him a new cell phone for his gift as he desperately needed one and I think I got some perfume and I’m not sure what else…  I will see and report back.

On the bleak side of things, I have a rather disturbing picture I am going to shock and appall entertain you with.

The following is an image of my dear mither’s foot about a week after her foot surgery.

Yes, what you are seeing is a pin with a large white ball head on it, sticking out the end of her second toe.  Strangely, what bothers her most, (besides the pain from the surgery), is the blood around her toenails that she can’t clean off well due to the fact that she’s not supposed to get it wet.

The Pin started out pushed all the way in.  It has slowly worked it’s way out and is not supposed to do that.  She hadn’t walked on it at all and yet, it was wriggling out slowly.  She went back to the doc today and he said something like,


And then he strapped some tape and gauze around the whole thing and duct taped it to the back of her ankle said he thinks it’ll be fine.

Doesn’t LOOK fine.  Looks gross.

At least child number two and her friend are going to go and see Mither and Pop for spring break.  They will be a really big help, I know.

I wish I could go.

Tanya to the rescue.

Hi people!  Yesterday, after I posted that posty post about the wonders of Crystal the Prolific Caregiver, I snuck over behind Henrietta’s wheelchair where she couldn’t see me and pulled open her window about a foot so I would be able to hear her if she rang the *&^%$#@! bell.  I then went outside and pulled weeds like mad.  I had almost worked my way all the way across the beds in the front of the house when, while covered with dirt and wearing no make up at all, (not to mention with a bright red zit in the middle of my chin), a car pulled in and the little lady in it rolled down her window and asked if I was Ms. Lopez.  I asked her if she was a process server said yes, and she said her name was Tanya and she was our new caregiver.  She had gotten out of the car at this point and I yanked off my gardening glove and shook her hand.  She said she was just driving by so she would be sure and know where the house was tomorrow and thought she’d stop when she saw me.  (I’m hard to miss when I’m bent over in a flower bed with my ass poked out toward the road.  I gave her extra points for failing to mention this.)  Anyway, I asked her if she wanted to go in and meet Henrietta and she said sure, so she did and we really like her a lot.  A very sweet and outgoing, friendly person.

She showed up today, right on time and was a sweet, talkative little dear.  She kept laughing at every weird little thing Henrietta said and it just delighted her.  She likes her a lot.  Her husband came to the door and rang the bell to pick her up.  Didn’t sit out in the driveway and honk the horn like an ill bred teenage boy.  As soon as she left H said, “Oh! Krissa!  We’ve got to keep her!”

Could she be the one?  Is she going to be the caregiver I’v always dreamed of.  My match made in heaven?  Why do I feel like registering at the local department stores?

Essential Door Decor

How to put this…?

Several times in the past few months there has been a little… eh, afternoon delight going on in the HalfAsstic boudoir when, WITH NO WARNING WHATSOEVER, there has been a knock on the door.  Or worse, a rattling of the doorknob.  (Which is always locked because hey, we may be naive enough to think that we can actually get amorous while the others in this house are awake, but we’re not totally storybook-stupid.)  And then there’s always the ubiquitous ringing of the damn bell from Henrietta, but there’s nothing to be done about that.

Aaanywaaaay, over a month ago I told Lisa that we had a Lucy and Ethel mission to go on that would only rate a 1 on the five star Lucy and Ethel Absurdity Scale, yet, it needed to be done.


I could tell that she felt like I might be just wasting her time with a measly one star mission, but, in true BFF fashion she jumped on board.  When I explained the situation and what needed to be done to remedy it there was no question.  Appropriate measures would need to be taken.

My first instinct was to head to the local Motel 6 and just steal one off any old random doorknob.  Lisa would be the “get away driver”.  (Like I said, a dismal 1 on The Scale.)

Before any of this could happen Lisa left on a cruise with a few family members.  Her aunt knew about what I was in need of and though about me while on the ship.  Lisa returned with the very best “I went on vacation and you got stuck here changing shitty diapers and hauling an old lady around gift” ever.  For me anyway.

Hello people!  Long time since I’ve been here, I know.

Disclaimer: This is being written entirely under duress and NOT because I have anything that is exceptionally exciting to say.  OK, not really exciting at all.

Yes, let’s just say I am being coerced by my family and a few other people.  Boy are they going to feel foolish when they read this and realize that they made me do it.  Alright, let the magic words continue…

First up, (I think this is all you’re getting), for your fascination is the fact that I cleaned my closet out the other day.

Here we have the two bags of clothes to donate.  They weighed a million pounds.

Here we are AFTER the sorting.  What you can’t see is that between the frumpy, ugly clothes is SPACE.  WOO-HOO!

Now the really neat thing that I really enjoy about my closet is that the clothes are hung in color waves.  OK, I’m not sure if that is the right term, but they are stuck in there by color.  Kinda sorta following rainbow theory… OK, not very well.  I’m pretty sure my “spectrum” is all outta whack, BUT, if it was in the right order, you’d be awed.  NO, REALLY!  YOU WOULD!

From the other direction!  I think you can see what I mean a little bit better here.

And the pants!  That’s work clothes on the end down there.

There is a whole other bag of clothes that was just trash that NOBODY would want.  Torn, paint spattered, bleach riddled, work rags.  What I’m thinking now is, I really can’t do any hard work at this point because, I have nothing to wear.

Actually, that’s not entirely true.  I couldn’t lie to you people.  Well, not about the ability of me to wear housework clothes, anyway…  I did save a couple of pairs of pants and some old tee shirts for just such an occasion as cleaning out my tub and shower walls.  AND I DID IT!  LOTS of bleach was used and MUCH inhaling of fumes ensued.  Voila!  It all sparkles now.  That man I am married to even noticed… how sad a commentary is that on the filth that was hanging out in there?

We here at chez Lopez do not condone the growth of single cell organisms in our bathing facilities.  Nor do we approve of them flourishing to the extent that they develop their own IQ.

Yes, well…  Once this has occurred, “we”, ahem, (You know who that is, right?), sit back, shake our head and watch that shit grow take appropriate action.  Before too many months days go by I haul myself in there with a bottle of some sort of bleach/cleaner, a piece of Scotch Brite, a rag, and an old toothbrush.  Completely sans the gas mask.  (I am VERY foolish brave!)  Three wine coolers later hours later, I emerged victorious.

Next, we, (I use that term loosely), re grout, cause that stuff is coming lose from all the mold/bleach going on in there!

Here is the one I just KNOW you’ve been waiting for.

With excitement riding high I am presenting the top of my closet.  The white boxes are empty and there for gift giving.  The blue boxes are full of who knows what and the gray boxes are archival quality, acid free stuff to preserve things in.  I’ve got a few different copies of The Dallas Morning News in there from the day of and the following few days after Kennedy was assassinated.  My mom or father got them and kept them. The newspapers in the acid ridden plastic bag next to it are ones that I have some stuff published in from back when The Houston Post was around.

No, I did not have anything to do with them going out of business… NO, I don’t know why they went out of business.  SHEESH

I guess the fact that those are in the plastic bag, turning brown and rotting is pretty evident of how I feel about my worth as a writer!  Still… they DID publish my opinion… hummmmm.