Saturday, March 26, 2016



And so today, I must fess up.  I am strange.  There, I have said it.  I noticed today when I was perusing Facebook that I was disgusted with several items.

First of all I read that Axel Rose may be joining AC/DC.  I am a solid rock and roll girl but I have just never cared for AC/DC.  Their singer sucks as far as I am concerned.  The only singer who may suck even more is Axel Rose.  His version of “Knocking on Heaven’s Door” gives me the wretches.  And I am sure there are thousands of you out there who are rockers who just love all of the above.

The next thing that appalled me was the videos of making food stuff.  The first one I watched was Strawberry, Jell-O, Pretzel salad.  I turned it off quickly.  Jell-O is nauseating to me.  My mom was on a constant diet when I was a kid and used to make Jell-O all the time.  Man do I hate Jell-O!  Then add to it two things I really love which are strawberries (mine are wonderful) and pretzels (which I love with a good mustard) and I am outraged.  The only thing that goes with Jell-O is TNT.

So now I am wondering what it would be like to blow up a Jell-O mold with cottage cheese, pineapple and dates.  That would make a lovely mess.  I’d probably take a picture of it.

That is another thing for which I am odd.  I carry around a real camera.  The hubster keeps telling me that my I-phone camera takes must better photos but I am a creature of habit.  I used to own a Nikon and it really kicked butt for taking good pictures.  I gave it up with my first instant cheap thang.  Wish I hadn’t.

Another thing that I really abhor is marshmallows.  The idea of making Smores does not do a thing for this girl.  I hate marshmallow treats, mallow bars and anything else marshmallow related.  And especially those Hostess snow ball things!  And don’t even consider putting them into my hot chocolate!

People cannot believe what I eat for breakfast.  This morning I had seven layer salad.  It was for dinner last night and I had some leftover.  It was good.  My favorite breakfast of all time is an Onion Bagel with smoked turkey, cheddar cheese, jalapenos and mustard, heated.  I like to toast my bagel first.

Probably my most favorite breakfast is leftover Green Bean Casserole.  The son-in-law and I fight over it after Thanksgiving.  Well we don’t really fight but each of us wants the most.
The best breakfast I ever had was my mom’s Gravy and Biscuits.  And I call it Gravy and Biscuits when the entire rest of the world calls it Biscuits and Gravy.  People, it is all about the Gravy!  My mom made her gravy in a cast iron skillet and it got this lovely shade of brown.  My mouth is watering just thinking of it.

I do wake up in the morning thinking about what I can eat for breakfast.  I like a grapefruit first thing to whet my appetite and think about what is in the fridge.  I loathe cereal of all kinds.  I tried one summer to eat Raisin Bran for breakfast daily to see if it changed my system for the better.  It didn’t.  I can tolerate Raisin Bran but I would never opt for it in the first place.

I guess I don’t feel like I’ve eaten unless I eat something warm or hot.  I like my fruit but an hour or two later I have to eat something that is hot.  Beef stroganoff kicks it for breakfast.  Love my garlic.

You probably know, as I have confessed, I am a food hoarder.  I have a full freezer in the basement, an extra fridge in the garage and my pantry is overrun.  I have been trying to get rid of all my prepared foods but manage to keep a couple cans of Campbell mushroom soup and chicken noodle on hand.  The mushroom soup goes into the green bean casserole and the hubster eats chicken noodle soup when he doesn’t feel well.

I nearly choked yesterday when I went for a jar of my canned tomatoes.  I realized that I have only six quarts left.  And it is March.  I guess I will have to make do.  I do have about twenty jars of spaghetti sauce that should last me for a while.  I have plenty of green beans for my casseroles.

Excuse me but I had to sneeze.  I always, always, sneeze twice.  What is with that?  One is not enough?  It pesters me to death when people make those little stifled sneezes into their hanky.  I let it go.  I enjoy a good sneeze.  It is kind of like a little head and throat orgasm, don’t you agree?

My dad had the greatest sneeze ever.  He shook the house walls when he sneezed.  His whole body sneezed.  I think he secretly loved scaring the shit out of those around him when he sneezed.  He did carry a white handkerchief in his pocket but he didn’t use it when he sneezed.  I still have a couple of his hankies.

Another thing I found on FB this morning was this video of this guy in India who makes disposable eating utensils out of stuff you can eat.  When you finish with your meal you can eat the utensils.  I love him.  I hope he makes them out of fruit for dessert.  As you know, I detest plastic utensils.  I carry a real fork whenever I carry my lunch.  I usually have a cloth napkin too.  There is just too much waste in the world.

For some strange reason I noticed a while back that when I say the word “them” I really say “thum”.  Ever since I listen to people to see if they say “thum” too.  I also love it when people say “fur” instead of “for”.  I do it and so it makes them (thum) more human to me.

I have this habit of writing down stuff that I think I should remember.  At the bottom of this page where I wrote my notes for writing this blog I have written, “odd-HardB.  Calcatec-“world inside his brain”-and a word I can’t read that looks like elven or ewen.  I have no idea what this is about or where it came from.  I do like the “world inside his brain” statement.

I surfed Calcatec and it didn’t strike anything familiar to me.  I surfed “world inside his brain” and got Atlas of Creation, which after reading a few lines I am sure is much too complicated for my simple mind.

And simple my mind is.  I believe in Karma, I believe in the simple things in life that give you happiness.  I believe we should be kind to each other.  I believe that people who are not kind will reap what they sew and try to leave it at that.  I confess that I sometimes want to make a voodoo doll of them and pierce their eyeballs and tongue.  But I won’t because I believe in Karma.

This strangeness all began when I was a child.  I hated my name, Wilma.  I hated when my mom called me to dinner out the back door, yelling, “Wilmareaaaaaa…”  By the way Wilmarea which is my name sounds a lot like the call of a red winged blackbird.  Walk with me sometime and I’ll introduce you.

I was visiting the dentist who is one of the worst memories of my childhood and one of the best.  The dentist commented that I had an interesting name.  I mumbled in disgust.  Then he proceeded to tell me that my name was a derivative of the name Wilhelmina who was the Queen of the Netherlands.  I think we called it Holland back then.  He went on to tell me that it mean helmet or protector.  I’m thinking of those leather football helmets that used to be worn, with me in it.

This dentist continued to talk as most dentists do.  Do they really want us to respond?  He said my name Van Hoose was a Dutch name and it meant “the house”.  And therefore, my name meant “protector of the home”.  I think I had to stop him at that point so I could drop my jaw in awe.

I went through years of childhood thinking I had the most magnificent name there ever was.  It was not until I was older and discovered that my name Van Hoose had been changed at Ellis Island and that Van Hoose was not really a Dutch name after all.


I am proudly odd.  I am such a unique individual that I sometimes leave myself in wonder.  I am a product of a fabulous childhood filled with great experiences and people.  I found myself when I had children and enjoyed all the playing time that I didn’t get enough of as a child.  And now that I am retired I am finding so many new adventures and new and excited people   It is a never ending adventure, let me tell you.

Photo is of me contemplating the Three Sisters Oaks in Sugarcreek Forest Preserve in Bellbrook, Ohio.  It is where my ashes will be scattered one day.

No comments:

Post a Comment