I can have?


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Gluten Free and my Damn Phone part 2

Continued from yesterday here   http://wp.me/pDsGN-Ml

I whip off the cover of my phone.  I pull the car over.  I wipe down the phone.  My phone rings.  I answer it and warn the caller that my phone could die at any moment.


damn delicious Buttery Spread

The “Buttery Spread” (not actually butter) was seeping through the layers of my phone screen.  It was blotchy but that damn phone still worked. Thankfully the oil never “spread” to the guts of the phone.

DD very kindly replaced the screen for me.  Damn, those screws are tiny.  I think he had to use a magnifying glass on parts of it.  It worked ok.  But the screeen started to delaminate and the A, S and E key no longer worked.

I dropped it on the floor in Giant Eagle and cracked the screen by the Home Key.  Just a few cracks.


Two weeks later I dropped it on the concrete at the Garden Center at Lowe’s.  And cracked the entire top half of the screen.  It got really wonky after that.

DD even more kindly replaced the screen again.  He worked pretty fast this time.  He knows all the tricks now.

I had the screen replaced and everything felt fresh and new. I went out immediately and purchased a LifeProof case.  No water.  No impact.  No snow.  No Oil.  Will ever ruin my phone.



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Gluten free and my damn phone

I’m tough on phones.  Oh yeah, rough.
I still have my red flip phone from Cingular days.  It still works too.

flip fone



After that gorgeous phone?  Ugggh.  I had a Blackberry that I sent through the wash in a pair of track pants. (I was tipsy doing my laundry.  Sue me.)

I dropped my iPhone 3G enough times to separate the screen from the back.  Luckily that phone fail was during my “re-up” time so my upgrade to the iPhone 4 was somewhat tolerable.

b berry

Yes, I had one of these beasts. It still works.

The iPhone 4 lived a pretty decent life.  I had it for 2 years and 3 weeks.  I had it in the pocket of my jeans and went to the bathroom at the Winking Lizard.  I had finished my business and was reorganizing myself when I heard a heavy dropping sound.  I turned to see my phone in the toilet.  It’d been in the water mere seconds.  That damn phone worked for about 45 minutes after the impact with the toilet water.

My luck, again, was good.  I was in the “re-up” period and the iPhone 5C and 5S had just been released.  I ran to the Apple store.  I’d have to wait at least 3 weeks to get the 5S so I bought the 5C instead.  Not my best decision but well, hindsight is always 20/20.

My screen has been releasing from the case almost since I bought it.  No bigs, right.  It’s still on.

All was well until I had a craving.

I’ve been gluten free for 4 years  (I don’t have Celiac) and I  really try to stay compliant.  Sometimes I get a jones though and am willing to pay the price.  Bob Evans biscuits are one of my things.  I hopped in my car after work, I was starving.  I remembered I had a Bob’s Biscuit in my car.  The “Buttery Spread” (not actually butter) packet was warm.  What would be more delicious that a couple of bites of biscuit with warm “Buttery Spread?” (Not actually butter)


Someone cut me off in traffic, I had to swerve.  The “Buttery Spread” (not actually butter) went flying as did the biscuit and my phone.

All three things ended up in a pile on my car mat.  The “Buttery Spread” (not actually butter) had run down the edge of my phone and had gotten trapped under my phone cover.



Continued tomorrow……..

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Type A and Yoga

I’ve been doing yoga for almost two years. (which is like the blink of an eye) I didn’t get serious about it until this Spring. (commence “selling” everyone yoga. ha!)

I purchased a membership at the Studio where I began my practice. And I love it. My minimum goal is to go twice a week. Which, if I added up the drop-in fees, would be making me way ahead of the game. (I only need to go 4 times per month to be even, so 8 times makes it a good goal.)

My new favorite instructor is Rachelle. She’s good. She’s fit. She leads an ass kicking class and….she’s super intuitive. The class I normally go to is at 6 pm on Saturday. There have been 3 people there, at most, ever. One time it was two of us, plus Rachelle.

So Rachelle has said twice, “Most people who go to yoga are Type A.” I would think it would be the opposite. The chill people, the ones that are Present, the ones in flow with the Universe and their soul would be the ones who do yoga.

Then I really thought about it. Yeah, Type A needs yoga. Type A needs to yield, to soften. Type A can kick ass at Power Yoga. Type A can hold that super athletic pose. But Type A needs to be in the breath and yield to gifts and energy in a pose. Yoga does not include lists or accomplishments or goals. (see what I did there? I have yoga attendance goals. For my own good.)

So, a Type A yogini? Yep, that’s me. Yoga – it’s exactly what I need.

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Enter the world where nothing is a coincidence.  My friend had a dream about a man a year or two ago.  He never spoke in the dream.  Nothing was ever complicated in the dream.  But he was there, looking at my friend.  Or sitting with my friend.  At one point, one of the dreams was of the two of them sitting at a campfire together.  She asked that I take their photo.

We were at a Faerie event about 5 weeks ago.  We were watching a belly dance show.  The man was sitting two seats down from her.  The man from her dreams.  She did not talk to him.  She didn’t even tell me it was the Dream Man until several weeks later.

We made the connection and she “friended” him on Facebook.  He invited us to his annual Hobbit House party.  And we went.

We knew no one but ended up meeting everyone.  And this, this is just the beginning of the story.  It continues from here.  Who knows where it will go.




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How do you spell turd? Tird? Terd? I’m not sure.


My cat, Kokopelli, is very furry.  He is amazingly furry.  His butt is also very furry.

Sometimes he’s not feeling well and he has some litter box problems.  Problems like a terd getting stuck on the fur on his butt.  He might very well walk around for several hours with the terd on his butt.  Sometimes he knows it’s there.  Sometimes not.  When he knows the turd is there he tries, much like a dog, to scoot across the floor.  This apparently is an effort to remove the turd.  It usually does not work and the result is a stripe of poo running across the floor.  It’s all pretty horrifying.

Last Saturday I took a short nap.  Upon awakening, I went downstairs for a snack.  I noticed weird brown marks on the staircase.  These marks had not been there before my nap.  I wandered into the kitchen and the stench assaulted me.  I knew, just by the smell, that there was most likely a turd on the cats hindquarters.  Now where the hell was that stinky cat?

He was in his cat lounging box with a smug look on his face.  I think he knew he smelled.  He seemed not to care.

Things happened quickly.  I found my “poo grabbing” equipment and got to work.  I cleaned him up.  I sprayed Carpet Cleaner all over the steps.  (Which I have to let dry)  Poo-mergency was solved.

I watched a movie that was two hours long.  The carpet was dry and I could vacuum.  I started the vacuum and the spots actually became worse.  There were more spots on the steps.  Gross.  So gross.

I lifted up the vacuum to inspect and there was a turd on the bottom of the vacuum.  I had been rubbing more poo onto the carpet.

Gross.  So gross.

I raged into the kitchen to retrieve my “poo grabbing” equipment.  I screamed the whole way, “This cat pooped everywhere.  Everywhere.”   And then I yelled at DD “you keep missing the good parts!”

I removed the terd from the vacuum cleaner.  I vacuumed the stairs as best I could.  At this point, I was ready to burn the whole house down.

Because. There. Was. Poop. Everywhere.

…at least it seemed like it.

I snuck a look at the cat.  The poor boy, it really wasn’t his fault.  He wasn’t feeling well, I could tell.  And maybe he felt a little guilty because of the janitor duties I was completing.  You can never be sure how they’re feeling. Cats are pretty wiley.

Hopefully whatever digestive issues he’s had are over.  At least for a while.  I’ve been busy burning down the entire staircase and all the carpet.  I’m not done yet.




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Sneaky Sneaking Up on Me

Geranium Supreme mixed

I have to go to Dover every year to plant all the graves.  I try to do it before Memorial Day Weekend, but somehow I’m always skating in at the last minute.    I end up running into town, buying plants, planting them and running out of town.  It takes me a couple of hours.  And I’m in and out.  Sometimes I might even sneak a quick bite to eat and glass of wine.

Guess what?  Memorial Day is early this year.  I was thinking I was going to be ahead of the game and get the planting done early.  I forgot this weekend was actually the holiday weekend.

I’ll be just in time, once again.


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