some HELLish blasts from the past...

Sasquatch seems taken over by ennui this weekend. I have no idea what's the matter, but she hasn't been interested in the Game Show Channel, nor the Golf Channel, despite its retrospectives of past Masters Tournaments (her favorite), nor even the Crime Channel, although I'm a little relieved she doesn't want to watch that one. She prefers to spend her time in quiet contemplation, so I won't disturb her. Perhaps she's undergoing some sort of spiritual awakening, or maybe she's just reviewing past loves...Rolf, Dr G, H and A...as some kind of Spring mind catharsis. She's a complex being, not easily understood. It may be that she senses the end of the remodeling project and knows that H and A will no longer be visiting on a regular basis. In fact, A bid us farewell when he left last night, so I suspect we've seen the last of him. I shall miss him, with his light-hearted ways and those little tricks he used to play on H.

Since Sas was ignoring me, I thought I'd see what was happening in HELL. Oh my. As I've mentioned, I've been getting a lot of attention there, for whatever reason, and this visit revealed a number of messages. Some of the messages were from ones that I had not corresponded with for months, like Shih-tzu4u2u8u. He wondered if I was still in jail so I told him no, I'd gotten out with the help of a few well-placed bribes. He seemed delighted by this news and wanted to know if I'd reconsidered his offer to come over 3 or 4 times a week to help me with my "boredom" problem. I told him I had not reconsidered and invited him to crawl back under his rock. This seemed to hurt his feelings, but I'm sure he'll come sniffing around again one day.

And then there was a very interesting message from R. I don't believe I've mentioned him here before. He and I exchanged a few most pleasant messages back when I first discovered HELL. He writes an excellent message...funny, spelled and punctuated correctly, coherent, and he uses multisyllabic words! Unfortunately, he lives hundreds of miles from me, as all the interesting ones have, but he's even farther than most. When we corresponded before, we agreed that there was little possibility that either of us would ever have a reason to visit the other's city of residence and so decided further correspondence would be of little value. As a result, I was surprised to see a message from him. At first, I thought perhaps he'd gotten me confused with someone else, but then it was clear that he hadn't. He asked some questions that let me know he remembered our previous correspondence and provided some chatty news of himself. Well, I answered his questions and let it go at that, thinking I wouldn't hear anything further. But, then there was another message and so now, I guess I can have a penpal from HELL if I so desire...but I'm not so sure that I do. I have little time for that, what with working and remodeling, and perfecting recipes and blogging...Penpal from HELL...how ludicrous that sounds.

There were a couple of new gentlemen too, although gentleman is not the word for one of them. His moniker was something I cannot reveal...it had to do with an action he'd like to perform (4u) upon a vulgar word for a portion of the feminine anatomy. He was vile and it was not difficult at all to delete his message. I was a little surprised that the administrators of HELL let him use that moniker, considering how stringent they are about photos...

And then there was a message from someone who addressed me as his fair lady...well, that put me off right away. He wanted to see a picture of my face, but would not demand one yet. (!) His "hobby" was engaging in "playful banter with worthy opponents..." Ugh. And he thought, based upon my profile, which gave him "a chuckle or two" that I would be a most worthy opponent. Of course, it was not his intent to cause harm or injury, except to my "bruised ego" when he "stomped" me! I let him know, but quick, that if he's interested in engaging in banter or anything else, he'd be wise to leave off the talk of bruising egos by stomping...And so, fearing emasculation, he sent an apology immediately. I've ignored him and will continue to do so until he slinks away. Little does he know that had I decided to go along with his banter idea, he would have been the one with a bruised ego, or quite possibly worse. Stomp me indeed.

--Ina

My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that color.

Sasquatch reminded me of the quote by Maria, from The Twelfth Night, which I use as my title for today. It is also my purpose, and the purpose of my most charming and funny gentleman caller, with whom I hope to split huge winnings from a Derby victory, that our horse of that color makes a speedy recovery and suffers no lasting damage from his recent small setback. We remain optimistic that he will quickly regain his form and will go on to more thrilling wins in the Sport of Kings. And if not, then they can shoot him for all I care, and while I haven't discussed this possibility with my GC, I suspect he shares my sentiment. If he doesn't, I'm sure he'll let me know in no uncertain terms. (You will, won't you, honey?)

Today is a beautiful day in our city by the river and Sas and I wandered the grounds earlier, sniffing for rabbits and keeping an alert eye out for squirrels. The birds are singing and flowers are blooming and we felt revitalized with the arrival of Spring. (Of course it's supposed to snow tomorrow, but we live in the moment as much as possible and so will not let this distressing prediction cast a pall on our enjoyment of this day.)

Narcissus poeticus recurvus

This charming and very fragrant daffodil is one I found growing in the woods behind the house. I shamelessly dug up a few of the bulbs to plant in my yard, and I'm glad I did because some idiot came along and built ugly houses there and killed the daffodils! They have flourished and spread in my yard and I should cut some to take to the office tomorrow.

After our excursion outside, Sas and I settled in to await H, who was supposed to be here early to finish(!) up my floor. Well, Sas quickly tired of waiting and decided a nap was in order, and while I was tempted by the idea of a nap, I also wanted to work on a recipe I've been mulling over. And so I set to work. There's a traditional dessert in Kentucky called Derby Pie, which has walnuts and chocolate and eggs and butter and sugar, of course. It's quite rich, but delicious in small slices with whipped cream, just to gild the lily. Buford had heard of something called a Derby Pie milkshake and he and I agreed that it sounded like a wonderful thing indeed. It occurred to me that Derby Pie ice cream might be even better and so that was the recipe I set out to perfect. First, I had to make a Derby Pie, of course, but, one is not allowed to call it Derby Pie since that is a very protected trademark and the owners of the trademark have no sense of humor whatsoever. Well, I've never been a scoff-law, so I decided to call my Derby Pie Supertrifecta Pie, which conveys the racing theme and also hints at the awesomeness of the dessert. It was my idea that I'd bake the pie and when it was thoroughly cooled, I'd chop it up and mix it into the almost fully churned vanilla ice cream, thus chunks of the pie would remain intact. And that's what I did, and we have a winner! This will be a perfect dessert to take to a Derby party and I'm excited by that idea and more than a little proud of myself. Sasquatch asked vigorously to taste the ice cream and so I gave in and let her have a small spoonful...not too much because chocolate isn't good for dogs, plus 67 pounds!

She approved.

H finally arrived and I am certain he can finish the floor today. He also promises to install my new light fixtures and that cannot happen soon enough. I've been working in a dim kitchen for so long I fear my eyesight is failing. But the new serpentine ceiling fixture with halogen spotlights should provide ample task lighting, if it ever gets installed...

--Ina

yet another Sunday in HELL

Sasquatch gave the barking a rest today......thank goodness. I cannot imagine what got into her yesterday, but she was a bad dog! She cannot stay bad for long though and today is back to her gentle, sweet self.

H called this morning to say he was sorry for not letting me know he would be at my house yesterday. His arrival yesterday was most unexpected and set a tone for most of the day. He was careful to tell me when he would come by today and made sure I understood. Yes, I did understand. He got here right when he said he would and after apologizing once again, and chatting for awhile, he got to work and accomplished a lot!! I was delighted! He did not bring his 2 helpers but didn't seem at all hindered by their absence. I like my new floor very much but am eager for it to be finished so I can put my house back together! As you can see, the living room is just as bad as the kitchen, plus much dustier.

So H finished up in a couple of hours and Sas wanted to watch the Game Show channel. Some old episodes of Let's Make a Deal were on and Sas gets excited about picking the door, so she was happy and wagged contentedly when I told her I was going out for awhile.

It is so cold here and I'm sick to death of winter...gray, drizzly, snowy, windy winter. A trip to someplace warm would be welcome, but I cannot leave in the middle of the remodeling project. And by the time the project is done, it should be warmer here and so a trip will unnecessary. There, I've talked myself out of spending thousands of dollars on a vacation! Still, a change of scenery might be nice...well, perhaps later in the year.

My HELL emailer of early this morning was a man of few words indeed. His message, in its entirety(punctuation intact) read: "hI nice legs" Well, those of you who know me know I'm nothing if not polite and so I did what I had to do and emailed him back: "Thanks" I thought that would be the end of it. After all, he was from Port Whatever, NY, which must be hundreds of miles from me. His name was lookin4u420. It seems like many of the men from HELL attach 420 to their monikers. I have no idea what it means and think it's just a coincidence. Lookin's photo showed him in what looked very much like a wet suit and he had a parrot perched on his finger! (I couldn't see if he had a peg leg, but wouldn't be surprised.) He's a bird lover!! Well, Paul Varjak would be excited about that. After my terse response to his succinct message, I did not believe he would write back. But he did! He said: "Hi" What?!? "Hi??" Well, if this is his idea of conversation, I don't think there's a future here at all. I have declined to respond to his last message, if you can call it that. After all, at this rate, it could go on for months before we ever got to paragraphs. So, lookin can look elsewhere. I'm sure I'm not the only babe in HELL with a nice pair of legs...

--Ina

what fresh HELL is this?

Sasquatch was barking, nonstop. The radio was blaring classic rock. The shop vac was sucking mightily. What was the occasion? Oh just Saturday...a Saturday I had planned to spend in quiet reflection or if not that, then just in quiet. H and A were not expected this day, but life's full of surprises and no one knows that better than I. Especially lately. Not only had H and A shown up unexpectedly, but they had brought another member of their merry band, R, who is a charming young woman, but one whose relationship to the others is a mystery. She chipped in just like she knew what she was doing, taking doors off their hinges, moving things from one place to another, and her use of the shop vac was masterful. This girl had some experience!

Sas was very put out. Literally put out, as in outside. In her desire to be helpful, she has made a pest of herself and cannot be allowed to stay under foot. Her assistance is most unwelcome today because it is another day of laying hardwood flooring and she has a tendency to be in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time...as do I apparently. So, she's on the deck where she can keep an eye out for looters and thugs and I have retreated to my bedroom, which is in no way far enough away but will have to do for now. She barks and I blog...seems about right to me.


I did remain downstairs long enough to oversee the moving of the china cabinet. H insisted he could move it without breaking anything and he probably could have. But I have a few pieces of Waterford that I'm ridiculously attached to and so I insisted in removing those pieces first. The rest of the stuff can break for all I care...most of it doesn't even have sentimental value.






As you can see from this photo, I have not exaggerated the chaos the remodeling project has generated. There's no point in trying to put anything away, and so it stacks up here and there waiting for the day order can be restored. And that day cannot come soon enough. So, I shouldn't complain about H and A and R showing up unexpectedly. The more they show up, the quicker all this will be done.


The painter was here earlier this week and promises to be finished in a week. Unbelievable and exciting. So good to have something to be excited about!

A check of email revealed a couple of messages from HELL...there has been an unexpected increase in activity from there lately. Unfortunately, the messages are the same old stuff from the same old men. Well, no, the men are different but they might as well be the same. I'm having some serious thoughts about whether or not to continue my HELL experience. More about that later...or earlier since that entry appears below this one.


--Ina

what to do about HELL

Sasquatch has had a much improved attitude this last week. Perhaps she's becoming used to the chaos that is our home. Well, good for her. It seems to be getting worse for me. I should strive to be more like her and accept what is just because it is. As a human being though, it's hard to just accept, even though, clearly, this is exactly what we should do. My human nature makes me believe that I actually have control over things that happen and so I rebel against my circumstances sometimes. What I really believe is that what's going to happen is going to happen, no matter what I do. So, I'd be much happier just to let be what will be and I do try to do so, but...I'm imperfect, as humans are, and that's all there is to it. Perfection is perhaps an admirable goal, yet unattainable. There are so many things I wish I could change and so few I actually can. How much better to be like Sas and just live in the moment, and trust that it will work out as it should, give no thought to goals, wishes, hopes and be happy just to be...Well, all I can do is try today and forgive myself for my shortcomings.

All this brings me, in a roundabout way, to HELL.

In the last couple of weeks, I've, inexplicably, received a record number of communications from the men of HELL. Practically every day, there's a new message from one or another...rarely 2 from the same man. It's strange because I've done nothing to prompt this activity...I haven't taken any new tests or answered any questions or posted any journal entries, so I'm at a loss to explain it. Unfortunately, none of these men even remotely resemble anyone I'd ever be interested in. It's not their fault, nor is it mine. Some have seemed nice enough, but nice is, well, just nice. Others have been downright freaky, if not truly scary, so, no. Most have been just average boring guys, with their poor grammar and their misspellings and their descriptions of the things they like to do...camping, fishing, bowling, watching television!! (I'm genuinely amazed at the number of people who like to camp. I can think of little that's more unpleasant than living in the dirt, sleeping with the bugs, and exposing oneself to the elements. Give me a hotel--4-star at least please--and room service any day. But that's just me). I imagine most of them would be happy to buy me dinner and take me to a movie (or bowling!), but I wonder what we would talk about? I could feign an interest in camping, I suppose, but I'd be found out as soon as the weather gets warm enough to actually consider sleeping in the woods, so why bother? There are those who say I'm too picky and that I should get over myself, the implication being, of course, that I'm not nearly as cool as I think I am. Well, maybe. But I've had some dull relationships and I'd rather have no relationship at all. So, maybe I'm not as cool as I think I am, but I'm not settling for some Joe Don with his pickup truck and his gun rack...not for a relationship, not for a date. Joe Don is undoubtedly perfect for some woman, but that woman isn't me.

And so, I'm considering chucking it all and suspending my HELL profile. It's been almost six months, which seems like enough time. In addition, HELL has pissed me off badly by removing the most fabulous profile photo ever...my Escape photo and replacing it with another. (Well, OK, there is one other profile photo just as fabulous, which captivated me plus made me laugh! I think the owner of that photo knows who he is. And if he doesn't, he hasn't been paying attention.) This photo removal thing is beyond the pale though. Obviously, there is nothing objectionable about my Escape pic, and yet, some dope objected and just like that, photo removed. The only thing that makes me hesitate is that the HELL experience is the point of this blog and without it, there's really no reason to continue here. I have enjoyed it and am perhaps not ready to give it up yet, so we'll see. Whatever is supposed to happen will happen and that goes for this too. Something will tell me whether to stay or to go if I pay attention and stay alert. In any case, I fully expect to continue at least until remodeling is finished. Since I've brought you this far, I'll take you to the end of that.

For the Sasquatch lovers, and there are many, I've included a short video of Sasquatch being Sas...happy, goofy, adorable. Plus, it gives an indication of the sad state of our home brought about by the remodeling project.

Finally, I received a gentle reprimand from Anonymous for using the phrase "boost Buicks" in an entry from last week. Well plagarism is never attractive and I do sincerely apologize, although I believe a 2-word phrase doesn't really require attribution. Nevertheless, it is not my intention to upset anyone. And so I want the multitudes who read here to know that boost Buicks was lifted shamelessly from a comment by Anonymous and I'm sorry for not saying so. I promise to try to do better.

--Ina

a quiet Sunday in HELL

Sasquatch and I got up early as usual and while I drank coffee and read the paper, she napped. I think she'd stayed up pretty late watching the Crime Channel. When I went to bed, she was engrossed in some stupid show When Good Dogs Go Bad...all about dogs who suddenly get the urge to dig up flowerbeds and boost Buicks. She seemed far too familiar with the entire concept and I wondered if she'd been corresponding with someone from the outside. I know for a fact that she sees my emails and she understands far more than she lets on. Not long ago, I found the draft of an email to our old friend Foghorn Leghorn. It was poorly spelled and the grammar was atrocious...dere fog...stoopid humn clled frm mag bar 4am an siad cal taxy but sas 2 smrt fr tht. brng treets soon...sas hngry. chuckwlry hngry. billclln hngry. bobbrkr hngry. skwerls out ther but sas caint gt out dore. chk palice stashun, see if stoopid humn in jale. probly iz.

Well, there's no way I ever called from the Mag Bar at 4 a.m. The whole thing is a fabrication and a pathetic bid for attention. I do not know what gets into her sometimes! And even if I had been at the Mag Bar at 4 a.m., if I could call Sasquatch, I could call my own taxi! So she's not as smart as she thinks she is! It's not true...not one word. Well, fortunately, she couldn't figure out how to send it, so I was at least saved that embarrassment.

H and A showed up to do some more work on the floor, but they didn't stay long and didn't really get that much accomplished. I hope to have everything put back together in time for Christmas. I really don't think a Christmas tree sitting on a plywood floor says Happy Holidays very well, so I hope it doesn't come to that.

While Sasquatch napped, I thought I'd catch up on some emails. And wouldn't you know, there was one from one of the gentlemen of HELL. This gentleman's name was spicydog4u and he said he was from INDY and explained that was a city, I assume in Indiana, but have no proof. It could be anywhere. He also explained that he was divorced (I suppose that's an improvement over the latest rash of married ones.) and that his bratty teen aged daughter lived with him and had driven off this most recent wife! He noted that I had looked at his profile (I had not) and asked what I thought. He also said that he didn't like people very much and preferred cats. Well, he was racking up quite a few strikes. He was disabled and was awaiting a big check from Social Security. He wondered what he should spend his windfall on...perhaps a hot tub?? (It seems to me, if one is disabled and cannot work, one might be wise to save any windfalls for things like paying bills and buying groceries, but that's just me.) He loves tattoos and wondered what kinds of tats I might sport. And if he was not broke, it was his intention to add to his collection of 10 tattoos on himself...mostly of Norse gods and symbolism because he was involved in some crazy heathen cult or something that seemed to be based in Scandinavia. He said he also had one over the "spiritual third eye, if you know what I mean wink" Well, I have heard of the spiritual third eye, which I believe is in the brain...some have suggested the pineal gland. Somehow, I don't think this is what he meant and I don't want to think too long about it because, well, you know, eeeewwww. So, I thought about it carefully and decided not to write back. I don't know...I'm sure he's quite appealing in his own way, but there's the cat issue and all those tattoos, but the dealbreaker was that third eye thing...

And so it will soon be time for the Derby, perhaps Kentucky's biggest claim to fame. I like horse racing quite a bit and have had some good luck in recent years with Derby bets and so have been following the prep races and doing some research. There are several promising colts this year, and even a filly or 2 who might have a shot, but I have been most captivated by one colt, whose name I will not reveal, lest the thousands who read here bet him down to ridiculously low odds. A most charming and attractive gentleman caller from HELL has also become enchanted by this colt (unless he is feigning enchantment and I don't think he is this time) and has agreed to join me in a bet to win and win only. A most romantic notion, in my book. Our horse, our bet, ours to win. Although I won't tell the colt's name, I will include a photo so you can judge for yourself. Take note of the beautiful head and the intelligence in the eyes and the remarkable color of his coat.

--Ina

Sasquatch goes all swoony-dog

Sasquatch had an appointment with her physician, the very attractive Dr G. Sas loves Dr G, more than Rolf, more than H or A, more than anyone, except perhaps me. Many dogs are unhappy when they have to see the doctor, but not Sas. It could be because she's never had a serious illness...or any illness at all...and so, has never had to endure a painful treatment. But she has undergone the usual vaccines and pokes that go along with her annual physical, and still, she adores Dr G. I can sort of see it. Dr G. is very soft spoken, reassuring, and gentle. He's a very tall man and I can't help but notice what large feet he has! And if he's not classically handsome, he has a certain appeal to his visage and beautiful, kind blue eyes.





Sas's excitement was apparent as we made our way to Dr G.'s office. She knew where we were going in the same way that she knows when H and A are near. Who knows how she does it; it's enough to know that she does. We had to wait for a time in the outer office. Dr G. was very patiently explaining an injury that a cute little toy fox terrier had suffered to her front leg. He diagnosed a hyper-extended carpus and told the terrier's human that bedrest was important. Well, the human thought that was hysterically funny. Apparently Sas did too as she wagged and twirled in a circle when she heard. Of course, perhaps she was reacting to seeing Dr G. for the first time in a year. The doctor took a few minutes to wash his hands and spray the examination table with disinfectant (he's very hygenic) and then it was our turn. Sas smiled broadly and her eyes sparkled as she walked to the inner office. She was so excited! It took Dr G. and his assistant both to lift her onto the table. (She weighs 67 pounds and probably should think of joining the gym.) She got herself settled on the table then grinned and wiggled with delight as Dr G. asked her how she was, and told her she looked beautiful with her new hairdo (she's quite vain, as I think we've discussed...I cannot imagine where she gets it) and scratched her behind her ears. He rubbed his hand along her back and down her sides and she wagged fiercely. When he turned away to consult her chart, she whimpered a little to get his attention and he did not disappoint...such a good boy! All too soon, it was over. Sas was very quiet on the way home. Perhaps she was reliving the scene in her mind or maybe she was just tired from all that flirting...it can be most exhausting if one is doing it right. In any case, when we got home, she found a spot on the floor for a nap and barely looked up when H and A arrived. She was in a Dr G-induced swoon. She did manage to beat her tail weakly on the floor when H inquired about her health, but her heart wasn't in it. It had been stolen once again by the most captivating Dr G.




The arrival of H and A meant that remodeling noise would commence shortly. First, they have to tune in their radio because music keeps them energized and on task, I guess.

War, children, it's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

It's just a shot away

I tell you love, sister, it's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

It's just a kiss away

Kiss away, kiss away

So, yes, we listened to Gimme Shelter, and I like the Rolling Stones. I do. I prefer not to like them at ear-bleeding volume, but I understand how hard it is to enjoy music over the whine of the table saw and hammering of the...hammer. In any case, the remodeling is moving along apace (a slow pace, is what I mean), but it will be finished one day and if that one day comes before the day that I myself am finished, so much the better. I do love my new floor...well, what there is of it.

--Ina