The chili sauce is in the pot, bubbling away. I got up at 5:30 to get things started, and had all the ingredients laid out, tomatoes weighed, and pots washed, when my mother walked into the kitchen. She has my cold, the one I’m not quite over, that’s lasted 15 days.

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Forbes.com has published a list of the most expensive places to live. Chicago has moved up from eighth place in 2002, to seventh place this year. The list was based on a number of factors including high rent, high cost of living, and low job growth.
These 10 cities are the least desirable:
1. San Jose
2. San Francisco
3. Honolulu
4. Bergen-Passaic, NJ
5. NY
6. Boston
7. Chicago
8. Milwaukee
9. LA
10. Seattle

Some clever person put this list together. I’d like to give them credit for it, but it’s one of those anonymous things circulating on the Internet. I’m posting it to show that I am not the only woman in the world who prefers a clean potty, Billy!
WHY MEN ARE JUST HAPPIER PEOPLE
What do you expect from such simple creatures!?
Your last name stays put.
The garage is all yours.
Wedding plans take care of themselves.
Chocolate is just another snack.
You can be president.
You can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.
You can wear NO T-shirt to a water park.
Car mechanics tell you the truth.
The world is your urinal.
You never have to drive to another gas station
because this one’s just too icky.
You don’t have to stop and think of which way to turn a nut on a bolt.
Same work, more pay.
Wrinkles add character.
Wedding dress – $5000; tux rental – $100.
People never stare at your chest when you’re talking to them.
The occasional well-rendered belch is practically expected.
New shoes don’t cut, blister, or mangle your feet.
One mood, ALL the time.
Phone conversations are over in 30 seconds flat.
You know stuff about tanks.
A five-day vacation requires only one suitcase.
You can open all your own jars.
You get extra credit for the slightest act of thoughtfulness.
If someone forgets to invite you, he or she can still be your friend.
Your underwear is $8.95 for a three-pack.
Three pairs of shoes are more than enough.
You almost never have strap problems in public.
You are unable to see wrinkles in your clothes.
Everything on your face stays its original color.
The same hairstyle lasts for years, maybe decades.
You only have to shave your face and neck.
You can play with toys all your life.
Your belly usually hides your big hips.
One wallet and one pair of shoes, one color, all seasons.
You can wear shorts no matter how your legs look.
You can “do” your nails with a pocketknife.
You have freedom of choice concerning growing a mustache.
You can do Christmas shopping for 25 relatives, on December 24,
in 45 minutes.
No wonder men are happier!

I think New Yorkers will have another day to look back on. I sincerely hope that their trial is brief. They’ve had their share of misfortune.
When I was a child, I woke up one frigid winter morning to find that we didn’t have any heat. My father had built our home and we had hot water heat. The pipes in the unheated garage had frozen, cutting off our source of heat. Dad made a roaring fire in the fireplace in the living room and we sat close to the heat while my parents ferried breakfast to us. We heated our clothes by the fire and left it just long enough to dress.
We’re better prepared these days, but a loss of power could be a serious problem if we had severe heat or cold. I’m more aware of these possibilities because my mother lives with us, and due to age, she’s less adaptable. Fortunately, if we were to loose heat or air conditioning, I could drive her to my sister’s home for a stay.
I can’t imagine having my mother in a tall building in New York City, when there was no power. I’d NEVER get her down the stairs, so the only thing we could do would be to wait by a window and hope that help arrived, or the power was restored. Even if I was able to get her down a few flights of stairs, where would I have taken her, especially in the heat? I carry a cell phone in my purse now, so that I can get help if we are away from home. Did the cell phones work today? Do they have to go through switching stations that need electricty?
I’m a suburburn person. I have suburban street smarts. I’ve been very fortunate to have lived a safe, lucky life. Perhaps I need to plan for other contingencies. You know the saying…..”Be Prepared!”

I was browsing through the blogs, and visiting some of the links, and I found an interesting post on the subject of people watching at Broadatbat. Actually, she was writing about men watching women, and the fact that some women object to that activity on the part of their significant other.
Mamma taught me…..”If you can’t look, you might as well be dead.” You all know I am a people watcher. As I waited for my sister to join me for lunch yesterday, I watched the people walking by. Wednesday at 11:00 in the morning is not a great place to watch people in a mall. There was a preponderance of women pushing two seat strollers, all in a hurry to get where they were going before the kids decided to have a meltdown.
I wanna just SMACK those mothers who snarl at their children in public. I understand being at your wit’s end and having a bad day, and then have the kids go ballistic. But if that’s the case, you shouldn’t be out at the mall. If you’re treating the kids badly in a public place, what might you be doing in private?? Give everybody the day off. Get a little rest and relaxation, and do the mall another day.
So…okay….I got a little off topic. It’s been a hard day. When DH and I are out, if I see either something incrediblty odd or something really lovely, I’ll nudge him and try to direct his attention. He’s the only man I have ever met who is seemingly unaware of the people around him. I’m not pimping for him, just sharing what I’m seeing. I don’t mind him looking, although it seems a lot of women feel that is an insult.
My thoughts on it run this way. If he can’t look, then he may feel that I can’t look. Since it’s unlikely he will ever get me to walk around in public with my eyes closed, why shouldn’t he look? I don’t understand the insult in watching, unless your spouse or boyfriend is constantly comparing you to what he sees, and you always come up wanting in the comparison. Now, that’s rude!
Anything beyond watching is out, though. I’m not good at sharing. I’ve learned that from Jamie. An occasional kiss of welcome, or a kiss goodbye….maybe. But no touchy feely stuff. I mean….I’m reasonable on this subject. Look, but don’t touch.

I know….I’ve been a bit lazy lately. Usually I have dozens of little things I want to blog about, but this week I seem to be short on ideas.
I really envy those of you who have stong opinions about that’s happening in your lives. Mine is rather quiet, actually downright DULL compared to most of you. I’ve seen interesting posts about getting lost in DE-troit, and a pooch that took himself to the vet, and I’ve seen information about the Blaster worm at Gut Rumbles and Quit That. Too bad Sgt. Hook is away. I’m waiting for the next installment of his “Road” stories. Go read the first two stories. Speaking of stories….Dr. D.….whatever happened to BLANCHE???
Oh….did you hear? SPEEDBUMP has posted. Yes! The man is alive and revving up for a trip to see Tobey Keith with the love of his life, Jamie. Go give him encouragement so he doesn’t disappear for another 6 weeks. If you haven’t clicked on my link for “I could have been a contender,” you should. I hit the “I feel lucky” button one day and discovered billy in the middle of moving his family, and I got lucky! No….I haven’t met the man yet, but it’s been nice visiting with him. *G*
Here, you’ll find recipes, or “funnies” or garden chat. I suppose the gentleness of my posting is due to the cold that is still hanging on, but more likely it’s that my life is way too quiet! The good news is that I get to go to lunch with my oldest sister tomorrow. Perhaps she will have something to say that will give me ideas for blogging.
Until then, I’d like to say welcome to Texas T-bone, who has joined us as part of Red Eagle’s group of bloggers. Smart move, guy!
Time to snooze. See you all tomorrow!

Moses, “Excuse me, Sir.”
“Is that you again, Moses?”
“I’m afraid it is, Sir.”
“What is it this time, Moses; more computer Problems?”
“How did you guess?”
“I don’t have to guess, Moses. Remember ?”
“Oh, yes; I forgot.”
“Tell me what you want, Moses.”
“But you already know, Sir. Remember?”
“Moses!”
“Sorry, Sir.”
“Well, go ahead, Moses; spit it out.”
“Well, I have a question, Sir. You know those ten ‘things’ you sent
me via e-mail?”
“You mean the Ten Commandments, Moses?”
“That’s it. I was wondering if they are important.”
“What do you mean ‘if they are important,’ Moses? Of course, they
are important. Otherwise, I would not have sent them to you.”
“Well, sorry, Sir, but I lost them. I could say the dog ate them;
but, of course, you would see right through that.”
“What do you mean you ‘lost them’? Are you trying to tell me you
didn’t save them, Moses?”
“No, Sir; I forgot.”
“You should always save, Moses.”
“Yes, I know. You told me that before. I was going to save them,
but I forgot. I did forward them to some people before I lost them
though.”
“And did you hear back from any of them?”
“You already know I did. There was the one guy who said he never
uses ‘shalt not.’ May he change the words a little bit?”
“Yes, Moses, as long as he does not change the meaning.”
“And what about the guy who thought your stance was a little harsh,
and recommended calling them the ‘Ten Suggestions,’ or letting
people pick one or two to try for a while?”
“Moses, I will act as if I did not hear that.”
“I think that means ‘no.’ Well, what about the guy who said I was
scamming him?”
“I think the term is ‘spamming,’ Moses.”
“Oh, yes. I. E-mailed him back and told him I don’t even eat that
stuff, and I have no idea how you can send it to someone through a
computer.”
“And what did he say?”
“You know what he said. He used Your name in vain. You don’t think
he might have sent me one of those — err — plagues, and that’s
the reason I lost those ten ‘things’, do you?”
“They are not plagues; they are called ‘viruses,’ Moses.”
“Whatever! This computer stuff is just too much for me. Can we go
back to those stone tablets? It was hard on my back taking them out
and reading them each day, but at least I never lost them.”
“We will do it the new way, Moses; using computers”
“I was afraid you would say that, Sir.”
“Moses, what did I tell you to do if you messed up?”
“You told me to hold up this rat and point it toward the computer.”
“It’s a mouse , Moses, not a rat. Mouse! Mouse! And did you do that?”
“No, I decided to try calling technical support first. After all,
who knows more about this stuff than you? And I really like your
hours. By the way, Sir, did Noah have two of these mice on the ark?”
“No, Moses.”
“One other thing. Why did you not name them ‘frogs’ instead of
‘mice,’ because did you not tell me the thing they sit on is a pad?”
“I did not name them, Moses. Man did, and you can call yours a frog
if you want to.”
“Oh, that explains it. I bet some woman told Adam to call it a
mouse. After all, was it not a woman who named one of the computers
‘Apple?'”
“Say good night, Moses.”
“Wait a minute, Sir. I am pointing the mouse, and it seems to be
working. Yes, a couple of the ten ‘things’ have come back.”
“Which ones are they, Moses?”
“Let me see. ‘Thou shalt not steal from any grave “an image” and
‘Thou shalt not correct Thy neighbor’s wife.'”
“Turn the computer off, Moses. I’m sending you another set of stone
tablets.”
I empathize with Moses.