Doing My Part To Further Your Education. And Confusion.

Well, obviously I am not an entomologist. Kathleen is. Did you know that? She is.
Anyway, I don't know the difference between a katydid and a June Bug but I may have been influenced by thinking that since that bug was so cute, he had to be a June Bug because around here we say cute as a June Bug, or least we old people do. And older people, even, than me if that's even possible.

I'm feeling old this morning. Very, very old. Because I couldn't get to sleep until around three a.m. and it wasn't because I wasn't tired due to Lady GaGa'ing (taking a nap). No. It was because my goddam hips and legs and FEET kept spasming and waking me the fuck up and now I'm right back where I was, feeling weepy and weird and let's face it- this old bitch needs her SLEEP!

Plus? When I kept getting up (three separate times, okay?) I would EAT. I thought I was done with that stupid behavior but NO! Can I fit into my jeans? NO!

Well. Life goes on.

Do you remember egg beaters? Not that shit which comes in a carton and is made up of egg whites which have coloring in them so you can pretend they're really eggs. No. One of these:

I do. I remember egg beaters. They were awesome. I bet my mother still has one in a kitchen drawer. I bet she still uses it. You could beat the shit out of eggs with those things. Whir,whir,whir,whir,whir, they said as you turned the little handle and the eggs got frothier and frothier and frothier. You could whip cream with them too. Every kitchen had an egg beater. Now you can order one online for seventeen dollars and it will be a very nice addition to your vintage kitchen-ware collection.

Some things from my childhood are gone forever and some are still here.
Flip-flops, for example, are still here. You can buy a pair at Old Navy sometimes for a buck.



Flip-flops are practically the perfect shoe if it's not cold. They're hard to wear with socks although yes, they do make those socks you can wear with flip-flops. That's sort of weird. But flip-flops are like a sole with two straps to hold them onto your feet. Can't beat that for comfort and workability.
Sometimes all you need is something to protect the bottom of your feet from sandspurs or chicken shit. Flip-flops definitely do that. Well, not so much with the sandspurs. But the chicken shit, for sure.
I wonder how many pairs of flip-flops I have owned in my life. Hundreds, at least. When I was a kid, they used to come in the thinnest plastic bag you have ever seen and the two shoes were connected with a thin piece of plastic that the Hulk couldn't have ripped apart. Weird. But that's the way they came. They probably cost about thirty-five cents but I won't complain about paying a buck now. If you consider inflation, they're probably cheaper now then they were then. I think Japan was farther away then than China is now. They used to make the really cheap shit in Japan. "Made in Japan" meant you were buying cheap shit. Now it means you're getting the good shit. Do you ever buy something that has a label telling you where it was made and you never heard of the place?
I do.
Are there countries which are entirely devoted to making things that we here in America wear? Do they wonder at how ginormous the garments or shoes they are making are and believe that Americans must be a race of obese giants? With really big feet?
When I buy Mr. Moon a pair of flip-flops, they invariably make me laugh. He wears like a size 16. Can you imagine a tiny little Asian person making those things and thinking that surely, they must be a novelty joke item?

Well.

So here I sit, writing bullshit crap about egg beaters and flip-flops and the day is passing and I have things to do. For one thing, I need to hang Mr. Moon's camo-wear on the line so it will smell like nature. BOW HUNTING SEASON BEGINS SATURDAY! Do you hear me? No, I wasn't aware of that either. I must be deaf because I feel certain that fact has been mentioned around here once or twice or a MILLION TIMES in the past few weeks. Mr. Moon and I were talking the other day about what we might want to do for our anniversary this year and he said, "Well, of course I'm going to be in Kentucky hunting in November," and I was like, "Whaaaat?"
Did he tell me this before?
I don't know.
He may have.
Or he may have not. Muzzle-loading hunting. Yes, they still use muzzle-loaders to hunt with. What's a muzzle-loader? I have no idea but I think Daniel Boone may have used one.
And that was before either flip-flops or egg beaters were invented. They beat their eggs with a stick, I presume, and wore shoes they made themselves out of bear hide.

Okay. Enough. Hank just sent me this

which leads us right back to the entomology discussion I started with.
Please go check that out. It's amazing. And takes like two seconds to watch.
On the computer. Which wasn't around when Daniel Boone was either. Or when I was a kid wearing flip-flops and using an egg beater to make frothy, puffy omelets.

Tomorrow perhaps we'll discuss cheese graters and Keds. My grandmother used to wear Keds. They were darling. She had like size four feet. Little tiny tippy feet in darling little Keds and she had hearing aids in her glasses that were as big as muzzle loaders. Or cicadas.
She was as cute as a June Bug.
Which looks like this:

Wait. That's not cute at all.
What the fuck?

Ah well. Life is confusing.

Or maybe it's just me being perpetually confused. And tired. And old.

Very, very old. You want to know how old I am? So old that I ate too many prunes yesterday. That's old.

And I have tried eighteen different ways to get the font size back to normal and BLOGGER IS HAVING NONE OF THAT!

Well. Sorry.
I've done my best.
Now you go do yours.