Happy Thanksgiving!

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate!

The Macy’s parade was good this year, but did anyone else notice that the first three performances were from musicals that were originally done in the sixties (How to Succeed in Business….), eighties (Sister Act), and seventies (the one that Bette Midler was remaking–I’ve forgotten which one it is, but they used 70s disco songs)? The old stuff is being revived because they know the stuff they’re thinking up now is too derivative and yucky? Perhaps. I thought the Harry Potter actor was cute, but didn’t really have the voice to pull off “Brotherhood of Man.” Or maybe it’s just that I will never accept anyone but Robert Morse in the lead role. (grin) Loved the balloons and the BANDS! And the baritone player who won the Bob Hope scholarship! Baritone players usually get overlooked and seldom get any recognition, so that’s cool.

We took Teddy dog to the vet yesterday to make sure he had every shot or whatever he needed for the trip. Turns out he DOES have a sinus infection, as Mama has been claiming, and the doctor gave him a shot of antibiotics, a steroid, and a muscle relaxant/calm-down shot to relax the trachea and help end the irritation (the same cocktail he had before). We got his cough syrup refilled, too. We got a printout verifying that he is current on his rabies shot, and we decided against a kennel cough booster because he could catch kennel cough from that . . . we’ll just keep him out of gatherings of dogs on the trip. (Kennel cough is so hard on him. The antibiotics should last two weeks. The injectable form is WONDERFUL.) However, this time the muscle relaxant really did a number on him. His eyes were dilated and he was “duh” from 3 PM yesterday to this morning. He got much better by 10 PM last night, but until then he was Velcro dog. Confused, not understanding why he was weak and couldn’t think straight. Poor baby! He wasn’t sure he could swallow, so he didn’t eat until 9 PM. He’s fine today, but is still confused as to why he’s so wired (the steroids). Man . . . I’d hate to have to take those drugs myself!

Mama is still worried sick about being away from her doctor and that something will “happen to” us. There is no one who has room/inclination to take her in, and no one we trust to come here, and she can’t stay by herself, so she HAS to go if I do. Hubby wants me to drive part of the time to spare his energy, and I want to go. I feel guilty for “making” her go, and I know it is selfish of me to say that I want to go at all. But I don’t think it’s entirely fair that I miss every opportunity to travel or get away with hubby because of her comfort level. We’ll have her oxygen concentrator, oxygen, nebulizer, walker, cane, and meds. I’m not going to do anything bad to her up there–and we’ll rent a little car so I can drive us around to see a few sights. I know Wichita is not Key West or Carmel, but hey. I roll with the punches that Life throws.

I hate cooking. But I had to today. Ham, yam, and SPAM. (Liar! No SPAM.) Exhausted now. zzzzz

Now we’re going to watch the REAL Miracle on 34th Street–the original. Man, I hate that woman Maureen O’Hara plays. A real piece of work, she is. Until the end, when she pretends to become better. But women like that never do. Just look at my female relatives–just as bad as ever, but pretending to be nice because now they LOOK grandmotherly and can get away with murder. (GRIN)

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Author: shalanna

Shalanna: rhymes with "Madonna" and "I wanna," and is not a soundalike with "Hosanna" or "Sha-Na-Na." Aging hippie with long hair, husband, elderly mother, and yappy Pomeranian. I've been writing since I could hold a crayon. I started with fiction, which Mama said was "lying." “Don’t tell stories,” she would admonish, in Southern vernacular. “That's all in your imagination!” When grownups said this, they were not approving. So, shamed, I stopped telling stories for a few years--rather, I stopped letting anyone read them. I'm married to a fellow computer nerd who doesn't really like hearing about writing, but who reads sf/fantasy and understands the creative drive. I'm actually a nonconformist/hippie still wearing bluejeans and drop earrings and the Alice-in-Wonderland hair with headbands and sandals. Favorite flavor is chocolate/orange, favorite color is either Dreamsicle orange (cantaloupe) or bubble-gum pink, favorite musical is either Bye Bye Birdie, Rocky Horror, or The Producers . . . wait, I also love The Music Man. Is this getting way too specific and irrelevant yet? Obvious why I don't sell a ton of flash fiction, isn't it? To define oneself, I always say, it is good to make a list. How about a booklist? Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird Frank and Ernestine Gilbreth, Cheaper by the Dozen C.S.Lewis, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe (all the Narnia books) J.R.R.Tolkien,The Hobbit/LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy Gail Godwin, The Odd Woman F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby J. D. Salinger, Catcher in the Rye (before dismissing it, actually read it) George Orwell, 1984 Kurt Vonnegut, Cat's Cradle Donna Tartt, The Secret History Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn James Allen, As A Man Thinketh Mark Winegardner, Elvis Presley Boulevard James Thurber, My Life and Hard Times The Wizard of Oz, L. Frank Baum Winnie-the-Pooh/House at Pooh Corner, A. A. Milne Peter Pan, J. M. Barrie The KJV and NIV Bible (each translation has its glories)

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