Sometimes I wish I had a microscope. I could open up new worlds, worlds unseen to my naked eye. (My eyes aren’t completely naked. Sometimes I wear glasses or contacts.) But maybe I don’t want what I am wishing for. Maybe I wouldn’t want to see what I would see.
This was one of those days. Would you believe I have another goth toe? Goth toe??? You’ve never heard of that? A goth toe is what you get when you injure your toe, the nail or rest of it, and it turns black. This is not to be confused with yellow or grunge toe which is when your toenail gets infected with fungus.
Anybody in South Florida who has a garage knows what this is about. A garage? Just a place for parking your car? Maybe. It’s definitely not a cellar. Cellars in South Florida fill up with water. It would be like having an indoor swimming pool, albeit a dirty, disgusting one.
I woke up today hearing voices – one of them said, “Clean the garage.” The others said, “ Go back to sleep.” So I rolled over and went back to sleep and had another bad dream, this one about cleaning out the refrigerator.
I dread the holidays. All that cooking. Not that I actually do it. I can’t remember the last time I dressed or stuffed a turkey. That’s Howard’s job now. But if I did, I have a few special ideas I’d like to try. Like Popcorn Stuffing. I found a recipe somewhere for “Popcorn Stuffing”. Now that sounded really interesting. Innovative.
Vacuum cleaners. I hate housework, especially vacuuming the house. Not that I won’t do it, but before breakfast??? It was 6 o’clock this morning when Howard emerged from the bedroom. Instead of the usual sleepy trudge, he’s hauling ass to the utility closet and clutching his throat. At first I was impressed, I’ve never seen him so awake this early.
All parts of a conch are supposed to be edible, which is okay if you don’t mind eating intestines and brains (however small conch brains may be). But a conch’s foot has the best white meat -not to be confused with pork- and if you don’t mind eating the equivalent of an overgrown escargot, conch fritters are delicious, grease and all!
Florida cockroaches are real cockroaches. They are not teeny and puny like those little German immigrants. Just seeing one of those big suckers swimming in your coffee or having sex on your kitchen counter is enough to cause a major jump in most people’s blood pressure.
I like to fuss over my cat, Tom Brown. But Tom doesn’t always take too kindly to fussing and his tail will begin to twitch. It even twitches when I just look at him. He just lies there, pretending to sleep and looking away from me, but the tail is twitching.
Another Christmas gone by. I’m so relieved. Not that I’m a bah humbug person and not that I don’t have at least a few Christmas memories that I treasure, but there are a whole bunch of Christmases that I would just like to forget (and for some no good reason, I can’t.) I try to blame some of my unpleasant memories on the month of December.