Sunday, April 23, 2017

I Can See The Hesitation in Their Eyes

I don't often offer my hand when meeting someone for the first time. It isn't because I'm stand-offish, or that I think I'm better than/or above them, it's because I hate to see that look of hesitation when I hold out my hand, and they see, for the first time, the psoriasis.
My psoriasis first showed up at the age of 13, and started on my lower leg. That particular patch, looked like I had been riding on a motorcycle, and had burnt my leg on the exhaust, which by the way, I often used as an excuse when I wore shorts in the summertime. 
Over the years, the psoriasis has spread to other areas, most notable is my hands.The first foru fingers of my right hand, and the first 3 of my left. When I have a bad outbreak, it makes it very difficult to work, because just bending my fingers often result in them cracking and bleeding.
Several weeks ago, we did a job for a police officer, who wanted his basement boarded and taped. We showed up late in the afternoon to look over what he wanted done, and to give him a quote for the work. Of course when we enetered his home, he offered his hand, and hesitantly I shook his hand. Don't want to upset the cops here, they'll beat you silly and laugh about it, and get away with it,too! 
Anyway, there was that look. It often makes me feel about 2 feet tall, and after so many years, I get tired of explaining what it is, and that it isn't contagious. In this case I actually did. I don't, very often. 
I've tried many creams and ointments to relive the symptoms and outbreaks, but none have completely cleared up all the areas. I've been to skin specialists, and a numerous amount of doctors, and still I have to deal with it,daily. I heard on television a new process, and so far haven't looked into it, but it is suppose to have a great success rate. 
Most recently I came across  an item on the internet that I've been told has achieved great results. I peronally haven't tried it myself, but     I have put a pic that you can click and check it out for yourself if you also suffer with psoraisis, and think it maybe something your interested in. 

Click the above pic for more info.....

Friday, April 21, 2017

Cracks, Creaks, Moans and Groans

The past couple of days have found me helping lay a hardwood floor. I love the work, the work doesn't like me. I have a "friend" who decided to join in with the work, Arther Ritis. Actually he isn't much help at all, and just gets in the way. 
I made it through the first day... barely. The first four hours were fine, and after that, it was all downhill from there. We made the mistake of taking a short lunch break. I sat down to have a snack, and things began happening that I didn't even know were happening. 
It was only when I went to stand up, that I noticed my legs didn't want to work. First there was a slow creaking noise, much like that of a rusty door hinge, then there was a sudden crack, which at first, I thought something broke, then came the moan, and finally the big finish... the groan. 
I'd like to tell you the getting up was the hard part... but I won't. The getting back down was just as bad. The only difference was that the moan and groan came before the creak and the crack on the way down... and so the rest of the day was a series of them all together.
The man who I was helping said, "I'll sleep like a baby tonight, after doing this all day". He did... I didn't. It seems old Arther Ritis followed me home, and snuck in my bed. With each slow movement, it was like a bad chorus, creak, crack, moan and groan...
The next day was to see the finish of the flooring, and then we would put on the baseboards. I was a little disillusioned... I'd thought things would be much easier. Nope. Old Arther Ritis assured me I was in for a rough day, and I'll be dayumed if he wasn't right.
Yes folks, I'm old beyond my years, and I'm not happy about it,either.

Monday, April 17, 2017

The Kid and the Kite

I'm not sure where it all started, how it started and even why it started. Some 50 years ago, our family, as an easter gift, decided to give the children, along with colored eggs, chocolate, and other assorted hyper inducing candy... a kite!
This tradition contiued, and still continues. My wife went shopping with my mother, about a week before she had a slight heart attack (she's fine now) and since it was easter shopping she suggested a kite! 
So my grandson was here yesterday, and my wife gave him what "we" had gotten for him for easter. He took the kite out of the package, put it together (some assembly required) and decided that I should join him in testing the kite out. 
 We live in the city, and aren't close to a park, so all we had was a large parking lot with a lot of cars in it. This parking lot is surrounded by several large trees... a real runway for kite flying, indeed.   The wind was just right, but the kite was not cooperating at all. We did try, although a failure, it was fun, and exhausting at the same time. After several attempts, and twice getting stuck in a tree, which we managed to free it from both times, we decided that kite flying was not one of our best or suited our abilities.Personally I blame the kite, it was cheap, and if i'd have read the fine print, it said, not guaranteed to fly! :)
My grandson wound up the string, and both of us headed back into the building, I think my wife had more fun just watching us from the balcony then we did. She was laughing so hard that the tears of joy were running down her face. I'm sure some of the tenants in the building were either laughing or wondering if this old guy had lost his mind, and where were the guys with the white coats.
Well after our little adventure, we had a great supper of baked ham, scalloped potatoes and homemade coleslaw with my son, my grandson, and my sons latest fling. A little conversation, a few cocktails,some music, and a beautiful day. 
I think it's time we gave up that kite thing as a tradtion and started another one... maybe basket weaving... it would come in handy at easter. 

Wednesday, March 1, 2017

More Helpful Hints, for a Happy Wife,Happy Life!

Yes gents, I do know it has been awhile since my last post giving you those hints to have a happy wife,happy life. Sorry, but my last venture kept me in the intensive care unit longer than usual...

Okay, the wife has just made a wonderful casserole, lots of gooey stuff, like cheese. She has decided the dishes can wait till the next day. The next day rolls around, and she has decided she needs a brazilian wax job. She politely ... asks you to wash the dishes from the night before. Don't panic! Wait till she leaves, box those dishes up, take them to your workshop, and break out the handy dandy sand blaster. Those dishes will be cleaner than they have ever been. 
Just a little note here, if a sand blaster isn't available, a hand grinder works, as will a belt sander!


The wife arrives home, and while getting the nether regions assaulted by an amazon named Myrtle, your wife has decided new paint is in order for the living room. She was even thoughtful enough to bring it home with her. Some ungodly color that even she can't pronounce, so calls it "just wonderful".
No problem guys. Hand her 100 bucks, tell her to go buy something nice for herself, you'll take care of it. After she is gone, pull out every piece of furniture from the wall about 1 foot. Just enough so you can roll paint just below the top of said furniture. Do the whole room, put the furniture back. She won't know till Christmas rolls around, when you have to rearrange the furniture to put up the tree. 

Don't panic, this is when you fake a severe back injury. Hell, you may even get a little sympathy out of her. She'll obviously feel sorry for you, and says, "honey, we'll make do". The waiting till she says that may cause an increase in blood pressure, hopefully not enough to give you a stroke. 

Okay, my next tip, nevermind, shes back from shopping... oh shit, she brought paint..........

Monday, February 27, 2017

Seeds, Life From Within

A singular living and wondrous seed
Giving an inner life a chance to  be freed 
some starting in the ground   some blowing through the air
others from within from a love two people share.

It truly is Mother Nature at her very best
Once planted, time takes care of the rest
Maturity for that single seed comes slow
with proper nurturing, it will grow


whether  plant or human, seeds react the same
the ingredients of life a mystery in facts and all blame
As the seed grows, it changes shape and even size
what was once, now we can't even recognize
 That singular seed, now has its form changed forever
Mysterious, and beautiful, Mother nature is so clever?


A beautiful flower, colors bright and clear
A child, with blue eyes and dark hair
Seeds, all life grows from a seed, life from within
the cycle continues and a new life will begin.


Sunday, February 26, 2017

So Where Do We Go From Here?

trans·gen·der
transˈjendər,tranzˈjendər/
adjective
denoting or relating to a person whose sense of personal identity and gender does not correspond with their birth sex.

trans·ves·tite
transˈvesˌtīt,tranzˈvesˌtīt/Submit
noun
a person, typically a man, who derives pleasure from dressing in clothes primarily associated with the opposite sex.
synonyms:    drag queen, cross dresser, female impersonator; 

I use to have a high degree of tolerance for all these people, but find myself at a point that I have almost none at all. I can't even find myself having almost any empathy towards them. I think it is because the mainstream media has been flooded with so many negative stories, as has most Social Media. 

Lately, we have found ourselves being subjected to one news story after another, and usually, it is because someone has supposedly done a wrong to a transgender person. 

The only empathy I can rise to is it must be some sort of living hell, having to not be who you feel you should be. I can only imagine the therapy that would be involved to offer a solution or relief. 

When I started to write this post, I put two definitions as the opening. I did this because there are many who seem to confuse the two. One is what I think is a psychological disorder, the other, I think is an excuse to play dress-up and expect others to think that it is perfectly okay.

The reason I did so, was because many people do not want to accept transgenders, and feel they should not be in the same washroom as their children. I will say that a real transgender person, in my thinking, is not a danger to your children, or even my grand children. They were born the way they were, and don't feel comfortable the way they are. 
I just think that it is hard to accept a teen boy going to use the same bathroom as a teen girl. We can procrastinate all we want, I just don't think it is right. I wish I had a solution to it that would make everybody happy, but I don't. Maybe we need three different washrooms in public places now, Men, Women, and  Transgender.....

As far as Transvestites go, if I was in a public place, and my grand daughter had to use the restroom, and some guy dressed as a woman decided he had to go at the same time, he'd piss himself, because he wouldn't be going where she was....