Tuesday, February 21, 2017

This is Fifty!

Well, it's finally happened. The day I've been dreading for the past 5 years or so has finally arrived. I've officially reached the age of 50. Now, before I go any further, I will say that of COURSE I'm happy to be alive. Of COURSE I know I'm lucky since there are many people who never make it this far.  Doesn't mean I can't have feelings about it. 

Everybody says 50 is just a number. Like 40 was just a number. Well, I happen to like the number 24. Can I have it back?  It's hard to describe what turning 50 felt like for me.  Almost all of my friends are turning 50 this year and everybody has described various emotions.  For me my teens were my party years.  My twenties were my babymaking years. My thirties were my baby raising years and my 40's were my keep my marriage together and don't let my body fall apart years.  I never wanted to contemplate 50. I had no problem turning 30, no problem with 40, but for some reason 50 is just scary to me.  50 is OLD. 

My vagina is half a century old. I wonder what my gynecologist sees when she peeks up that dark, terrifying hole?  Is something in there?  I mean, it's quite possible that after all these years, something has been left behind. Ha Ha. All kidding aside, 50 is where shit is really supposed to go wrong.  When I turned 40, my hair started going gray and I suddenly needed reading glasses. It became harder and harder to get rid of the pouch belly that I never had before, but I could deal with it. I just don't know what to make of 50.  Words like AARP and colonoscopy and death dance in my brain, just teasing me until I want to drink them into oblivion.  When I used to read the the ages of the dead seemed to be so OLD and death an even so FAR away.  Now it's filled with people in their 50's. My face definitely is wrinklier. My hands are starting to wrinkle a bit, I've got some of those funny veins on my legs and I could use a shot of botox for the grand canyon size gap between my eyes, but that's ok, that's not what scares me most.

The thing that scares me most, is all that is soon to be lost. The history that is soon to be gone. I'm one of the lucky ones that still has both parents. I know that can't last much longer. They're both approaching 80. My husband's mother has passed. His father is in his mid 80's.  My cherished aunt and uncle with whom we spent hundreds of holidays and get togethers with, are also approaching their 70's.  I know we don't have much time left with these people. It scares the living fuck out of me that they will all be gone some day. 

They say that it is a circle of life, and indeed it is.  I remember when I was little. It was Aunt Maryann and Aunt Eleanor and Aunt Emma and Aunt Dawn and Aunt Gatha, and Grandma and my mom, Arlene and my Aunt Andrea.  The older ladies organized and cooked and held the birthday parties and holidays and our mom's made dishes and dragged us kids along.  I can remember to this day, smelling the roses in my Aunt Emma's flower garden. I was probably 5 or 6.  But that generation is the one that led.  They kept the family together, shared dishes and stories and then one by one started passing away.  That leaves our parents and my aunt and uncle and some other relatives who too soon will be gone from us and it will be us who will be in charge. The old ladies. My sister, myself, my cousins Tara, Jen, Janet. My brother.  Our children will have to put up with dragging their kids to OUR get togethers for the next 10 to 15 years, make us some grandbabies and then they will take over.

Circle of life. Life is scary indeed, but it can also be wonderful. I'm looking forward to REALLY getting serious about paying off bills, paying off our mortgage and then retiring, hopefully comfortably.  I don't know where that place will be.  Will it be by a beach somewhere in South Carolina or Florida? California?  A distant Caribbean Island?  Maybe a cabin in the mountains of Montana, which I fell in love with one summer. Will we keep our home and return for the summer?  I dread the thought of leaving my beautiful summer yard. So many memories we've made here through the years. 

I guess it's time to start concentrating on treating my body better, less Coke (soda) and more exercise. And good Lord, I need teeth!  I'd like to grow old with my husband and always have someone with me and that includes him taking care of his health which he's always done a pretty good job of. I've always joked that it would be me to die of the massive heart attack. (I hope not!) 

Fifty is scary but with age, I've found a certain sense of freedom to not give a shit what other people think anymore.  I've had enough people bail on me in the past to be comfortable enough to say "no thank" you back to them.   I really love social media and all of the friends that I have met and enjoyed conversing with through the years, but lately I've found that it's all so exhausting keeping up with it all.  I almost feel the need to have to send a card for every event, make a comment, congratulate, REMEMBER an event for some distant person I really don't know. I have to do something about this. It's not that I don't enjoy people, I do. I just need to make my circle a little smaller so I can concentrate more on those closest to me. Does that make me a bitch? I don't give a fuck.

My only wish as I contemplate my life being more than half over is that my children remain close to us. So far I'm not having too much luck in that area. I wish my daughter was closer and communicated with me more often.  I pray my youngest son will finally see the light and get out in the world and find a family. (preferably close to home) And I pray my oldest finds a good woman to love and make more babies with.  I hope to always be close to my grandbaby Emma. One of the most precious gifts God has ever bestowed upon me.

Fifty. Fifty.  I don't know. I still don't like how it sounds or what it implies for my future but I'm going to do my best to embrace it and live life to the fullest with my family around me. 

We've got to carry on that torch.....

                                                               This IS Fifty

                                                                 And I'm ok with that. 

Peace out. 


Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Lady Bitches

Well, it's that time of the year again. Fall is upon us- the leaves are changing and dropping like saggy old-women tits, and the evenings are getting frosty. 

It's also time for that annual fuck fest I like to call the Lady Bitch Bonanza. Oh, you don't know what I'm referring to?  Well, if you live in the country, you know exactly what I'm talking about. The ignorant look at them and exclaim "Oh MY look at all of those gorgeous Lady Bugs!"  And I'm like, "Um, no. Those ain't no Ladies. They's bitches. Lady Bitches."  But the ignorant don't believe a thing you say. Until one of those ferocious motherfuckers lands on their arm and bites the shit out of them. It happens every year, usually after the weather turns to shit for a few weeks and then one gloriously sunny day in October, the heavens open up and the Lady Bitches rain down. Everywhere.  Look down, it's a scary little fucker isn't it? 

The Lady Bitches are relentless and you really have to try to keep them out of your house. If you don't, they will most certainly congregate in the farthest corner of your highest ceiling and they won't come down until spring.  If you look up, you can see them there in the corner, looking like a beaver with the biggest bush you've ever seen. Just sitting there, lurking. Waiting.  

Then suddenly in the spring, when the weather warms up again, the little bitches start to fall from the ceiling.  Watch where you step, not only are they biting bitches from hell, but they smell like shit if you squash one of them.  

I still haven't figured out how to keep them away. It's virtually impossible. I do know that staying drunk for the 2-3 days they are around helps to alleviate my irritation. 

May the force be with you....and some good vodka!

Saturday, September 12, 2015

best friend shenanigans

So, we have a willow tree in the yard.  Whenever my grandbaby is over, we HAVE to run to the willow tree and touch it and walk under it, etc....  When my best friend was over a few weeks ago, we drank about 32 beers and suddenly I HAD to climb that willow tree. And I did it. We laughed and laughed and laughed.  

Yes, that's me again.

And me again.....

Not to bad for a girl with a bad back, but then beer will do that to you.  Where is my partner in crime during all of this??? Not climbing trees. No sir. She sticks with things a bit safer, like riding stuffed animals....

Yup.  There she is........

Needless to say, whenever we get together it doesn't matter our current age.....It always takes us back to the Summer of 85' and the fun we used to have. I love that we can always just pick back up like that.  

Oh, and here is one more for the books.....and one word...Nutmeg...

Then the car that drove past later and stopped to ask "Are you ladies alright?"  To which we replied: " fuck offffffffffffffffffffffffffff!"  and then ran all the way back to the house.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

On a completely unrelated note.........

As most of you know, my hubby went Vegan 3 years ago. My culinary life, as I knew it, essentially died.  (Yes, I almost wish that said Vegas)

I bumped into someone who told me that they missed my blog and even though I wasn't really cooking anymore (interesting food, that is) that I should continue to write about just whatever the fuck pops into my head.

So, here goes.....Today, I saw this Meme/Photo on a FB friend's wall......Cute huh?

Well, that's all nice and everything but would you like to hear my reply to this meme?  

Sue: I want one that ejaculates chocolate, pisses wine and shits fifty dollar bills. just cover his face with a bag if he's ugly.

That about sums it up.  I'm not hard to please. 

So, even though I may not write about food anymore, I'm going to continue writing about whatever happens to pop into my head. 

Wait, I already have a new post....Look for it next! 

Sunday, October 5, 2014

I'm backkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

I'm back bitches! Decided it's time to start blogging again, and with some goddamn purpose this time.  I may not cook like I used to, but I can definitely still drink and find great recipes to test and share. So, stay tuned!  We're about to have some fucking fun!

Thursday, September 19, 2013

Princess Arabella and Booze

So, today has been a smelly shitfest of bunches of shitty things. What shitty things do you ask? Wellllll, let's start off with Chicago O'Hare. Chicago O'Hare has got to be THE giantest vagina of vagina airports. It constantly closes. Today at 11:04 a.m. a moth farted. It did. And the airport shut down. It fucking shut down. I had 8 calls in a row with people stuck all over the Northern Hemisphere who were trying to connect via O'Pussy Hare.

Because of the moth. Ok, so maybe it wasn't exactly JUST a moth. There was a storm. OMG. A storm. So the airport shuts down and basically fucks up EVERYBODY's day. Especially mine. You have no idea how many people I said, "Just cool your heels and have a drink" to....I did. And mostly they agreed.....

At the end of my shitfest of a day, I decided to walk to my mailbox and see if the 3 million dollar check I've been waiting for has arrived and take my stupid dog with me. Well, I poured a glass of wine and wait...I will copy the story from my Facebook post. Let me get it.....

                                                       Arabella and The Groundhog

Once upon a time there was a girl named Sue. Wait, let's make it Arabella. Arabella is a much better name. So, Once upon a time, there was a girl named Arabella. Arabella had a very long, irritating day at work dealing with stupid fucks and all she wanted to do when she was done was to take a bath in a giant glass of Pinot Grigio. When Arabella got off work, she went to the kitchen to pour her wine and since she was hungry she decided to find something to eat. Arabella was fresh out of Caviar so instead, she elected to have some animal crackers. They were golden animal crackers. With sprinkles. While Arabella was getting her wine and crackers ready, her annoying dog named Beau (because I'm mad at Boomer right now) was incessantly whining to go outside. Since Arabella's $3 million dollar check hadn't come in the mail yet, she decided she would take her wine, her crackers and her whiny dog for a walk to the mail box. As Arabella was balancing her wine glass in one hand and the dog leash and golden crackers in her other hand, out of nowhere jumped a stupid motherfucking ground hog. Before Arabella could say "shit" Beau decided to chase that motherfucker and dragged Arabella behind him as she screamed obscenities and tried to save her wine. Alas, the wine couldn't be saved and the crackers were tossed upon the lawn. While stifling a sob, Arabella shouted out into the night, "I will be back you motherfucker groundhog. With a shotgun and you will pay!" And with that, Arabella turned in her lovely Laboutins, gave Beau a swift kick in the ass and tottered back to the house for more wine. (a kinda sorta true story)f
And there it is. The beginning of Arabella. But the good news is that Arabella gets better the more she drinks. And I did have some wine. I would have had more had my husband decided to bring home more than just a bottle of RED. He knows I hate RED. So what does he do, week after week? He walks in the door with Red. Hog.  I call party foul. The only good thing is that I know how to PLAN AHEAD.  I bought white on my lunch break. So, I'm prepared. Sort of. So, with my white, I shall blog again. I promise to be funny again.

Wednesday, September 18, 2013

Moving on.

Sadly enough I have to report that I rarely cook anymore.  Why you might ask? Well, because my husband is now a Vegan and I'm not. End of story. Well, so maybe I lied a little bit, I guess you can say I do still cook. I just don't cook anything edible. At least not to normal people.

I can't express enough how sick I am of beans, rice, tofu, pasta, vegetables, potatoes and wraps.  That's all I ever cook anymore. So, what do I eat? Toast, usually. It's sad, sad, sad. Someone needs to come and take me out to dinner. For a real dinner. I'm hungry.

So, I really loved this blog and no longer want to ignore it, but since I don't cook anymore, I'm not sure what to do about it. Then I looked at the title again. Wooden Spoons and Chardonnay.....Wooden Spoons and Chardonnay...hmmm....I supposed I can call this a blog about drinking wine and maybe stirring it with a wooden spoon...or drinking wine and beating people with a wooden spoon.  Anyhow, it got me to thinking. I can still write. The recipes may be far and few in between, but the drinking wont.

So, I think I'll just write about whatever is on my mind. If it's early in the day and I haven't started drinking yet, it will likely be realistic, somber posts about the news and whatnot...later in the evening, after I've had a few drinks, I'll try to be fun again.

So, I'm just going to write and see where this takes me.