A Chuckle for the Ladies

Now that summer is here friends and acquaintances are talking about boating and all the fun stuff to do now that the weather is nicer. I recall an oldie but a goodie that I wrote awhile back that I thought you might enjoy:

"Before the wars when I was young and single" (as my friend, Betty Jean from back home used to say) I dated a man who asked me to go to a lake in Indiana with he and another couple. Roger's friend had a boat. We would go waterskiing. "How fun", I thought to myself. (I had never been waterskiing before.) When I was a little girl I can remember seeing ads in magazines that said that women could do anything they wanted while wearing a tampon! I am living proof that this was false advertising! Roger and I and the other couple all set off for a day of fun at the lake. First off, as I was sitting in the backseat of their car enjoying a can of orange soda I was stung by a bee who lusted for my can of pop big time! His final revenge was landing on the back of the seat. When I sat back he nailed me on the shoulder. I feared I would soon look like Quasi Moto! Next, we got out of the car and walked to the boat. We set off on our wonderful waterskiing adventure. My first attempt found me dragging the lake with my rearend! It was probably the best douche I ever had in my entire life! I let go of the rope. The boat carrying everyone but me circled around to come back for me. All of a sudden I felt a fullness down in the crotch of my swimsuit. My first thought was, "My God, I've caught a fish the hard way"! I surveyed the situation and pulled out a gigantic cotton ball! I tried to make it sink before the boat came back around and found myself fighting it (tampons float in water) and waving to my friends at the same time. In my mind, I imagined the tampon soaking up the entire lake. I could envision fish flopping around all over the dried up lake floor! I prayed hard that the boat would take its time coming to pick me up until I could sink what now looked like a big fuzzy baseball! I couldn't tell anyone else on the boat what had happened. I didn't know the other lady well enough to confide in her. I had worn white shorts over my swimsuit. You ladies, can figure out the rest of my anguish. I was sitting in a boat in the middle of a lake with nowhere to change! As far as I know that lake in Indiana still exists but then again I never went back to check??

The Adventures of Clara Clapsaddle

In light of the Kentucky Derby being run recently and the other stories about horses I thought you might enjoy this story I wrote about six years ago about my experiences while being the "supportive mom" while my daughter gave horseback riding lessons a try:

"In yet another attempt at helping my daughter to find a healthy outlet for all her energy we have entered the fascinating world of "English horseback riding"! As a good and supportive parent (according to the instructor) I must "tack" up the horse to help my daughter get ready for her lesson (in addition to paying for the lessons, I might add). I'd been dressing kids for years--now I had to dress a horse! After getting the saddle and girth on the horse I must put my finger in the horse's mouth to tickle it's gums (safely away from his big teeth, ofcourse), so that we can get the bit into his mouth. If anyone 10 years ago would have told me that I would be doing this today I probably would have laughed my head off. I grew up in the city. We didn't know for horses. If I had told my father I wanted to take horseback riding lessons, he probably would have walked away laughing dismissing the whole conversation as fantasy on my part. My daughter brushes the horse and picks up its feet to clean out the hooves. Try to imagine in your mind how large these animals are. If they step on your foot, they don't even know it! And yet they are like big dogs in a way. I remember watching one day as three horses stopped all at once and stood there like statues watching a boy playing with a kite in an adjoining field because they couldn't figure out what the tiny red object was?? Next, I decided to buy a used saddle for my daughter to use. No one told me in advance that the saddle had to fit my daughter's rearend as well as the horse's back! Yesterday my daughter tried out the "first" saddle I bought for her to use. I looked out to see her laying on the ground in the show ring with the horse standing there patiently waiting for her to do something. The horse was wearing the saddle on the side of his body! Hmmmmmm?? What's wrong with this picture? I didn't know the horse can bloat and debloat in between the time you tighten it's girth to the time you start riding him/her. Two saddles later we found ourselves the proud owners of an English saddle and a saddle tree for our basement collection! We live in the suburbs. The saddle and all the other accessories made for a great conversation piece for awhile when guests came over!

The big day came for my daughter to participate in her very first horseback riding competition. My daughter and I had worked hard the night before at the stables along with the other students washing the horse, grooming it, and putting decorations on a horse blanket (the horses and riders wore Halloween costumes for this competition). My daughter was dressed as an Indian princess riding atop a horse decorated by imaginary Indians! I climbed on a stool and braided the horse's mane and put decorations in it. On the morning of the competition my daughter's instructor said she was much too busy preparing for her own competition with her horse, so I would have to call out all the points in the course for my daughter to follow as she went through the steps of her first competition. I urged my daughter all week before to pretend she was going through the paces to memorize her course in our front yard with strategically placed cards and an imaginary horse! Picture that one in your minds!

The competition began. It was my daughter's turn to go into the ring. As the judges and several audience members looked on my daughter went through her paces around the show ring going to each letter around the track that I called out. I couldn't see the letters on the fence that I was standing directly in back of. I was doing pretty well, though, at calling out the instructions until half-way through when I lost my place and became disoriented as terror and embarrassment gripped my throat. My worst nightmare unfolded as the judges rang the bell for the first mistake. All eyes turned to me! I did the best I could to recover and began reading out more instructions. My daughter started to cry and looked at me for help. I wanted to run away into the woods, dig a hole, and die but not without doing away with my daughter's instructor, first, ofcourse."

The Needle or Inspector 37

The needle has been written about so many times. There are so many sayings associated with it. There are so many uses for it!

Perhaps, it is difficult to "find a needle in a haystack", but when was the last time you found one in your clothes that you didn't put there??

Earlier this week I was enjoying sharing a cup of coffee with our one of my dearest friends. I was ready for a good laugh after working all week and all the stresses involved with everyday life. My friend never lets me down in this department. She was telling me how she was walking along and noticed something dangling from a new skirt she had just purchased. When she looked down and felt around to see what it was she found a sewing needle with thread still attached to the skirt!

After I learned that she hadn't been injured by the needle, we held our sides and laughed and laughed. I said, "Somewhere in some third world country in a sweat shop there is a overworked lady saying, "Where the heck is my sewing needle"?? Perhaps, the sweat shoppe owner (or a celebrity) came in and yelled, "Raid, get out now", and the workers all had to leave in a hurry leaving the needle where it was stuck last??

Keeping in mind those little white stick-on "Inspected By" tags one usually finds inside their new garment, perhaps, Inspector # 37 wasn't doing his job??

Good Night kids!

The Train Trip

We decided to another "first"! We took a train trip from Cincinnati, Ohio with the final destination being Tampa, Florida. We boarded a train in Cincinnati. We looked like immigrants! We had "roll as you go" suitcases--a wonderful invention! We had a small pillow. I had a second roll as you go bag that resembled a carpet bag suitcase. We had small rolled up blankets like the cowboys carry in those old westerns. The only thing we were missing was the horse! We looked like we were headed for Ellis Island! As we moved along the sidewalk to board the train the first thing we saw was a man with several tattoes and a nail through his nose! I thought to myself, "What in the world have we gotten ourselves into"? We boarded the train and got to our seats. We didn't have a sleeper car which in retrospect I know we should have definitely gone for! This became more and more evident as we made our way down the tracks!

We picked up a drunk in Virginia. He provided a couple hours of entertainment. I tried to warn the African-American family who was sitting behind us. He wandered back and saw them. We sat and watched as the man walked toward the children and said, "Dance like Michael Jackson for me". I thought to myself, "Okay, now we're going to witness a race riot"! The man left, and one of the women ran to get the conductor. The conductor came back and told the man to sit down and be quiet. As soon as the conductor was out of the car the man wandered up to the restrooms which are located at the front of each train car. He went into the Women's Room then the door slid open as we watched him bounce out of there and into the Men's Room across the hall. This happened a few times then the man sat down. In a short time, however, he stood up and began his run through the cars with the conductor always at least one car length behind him. This cat and mouse game went on in our car for a few times then the man finally sat down. Eventually he left the train, and our journey continued all the better to be rid of him!

We ventured to the Snack Car. There was a man in there with a videocamera. He asked us to join him. He was very nice. He said he was kind of like a "On The Road with Charles Kuralt" type who rode on trains videotaping his fellow travelers as he interviewed them. When I gave my opinions he disagreed with everything I said. Evidentally everyone is entitled to their opinion, but he is self-appointed critic! He added that he held contempt for the media after which I reminded him that he was a film-maker!

Later on in the journey the train stopped for one of several times. Apparently, a driver tried to drive his car around the crossing bars on the road, and we hit him! He was fine, but his car was demolished! The train moved on! The food in the Dining Car was very good. Most of the people we talked to were very nice.

One lady got on at one point and asked all the time she was on the train if the person she was calling on her cell phone could hear her. I don't know if they could hear her, but we could! Ah, public transportation! More grist for the writer's mill!

Recommendations: If you take the train, take plenty of reading materials, get a sleeping car, take your own bottled water, or take an airplane!