I feel boisterous. I feel, in a word, chatty. I don’t have anyone to chat WITH since DH doesn’t respond and DS is always in his room ………… so I chat to you.
I am drinking spumante and eating potato chips. The name on the bottle intrigued me – and by the way this is horrible spumante but I’m going to drink it anyway. The name on the bottle is Andre’. Isn’t that a beautiful name?
It conjures up an image of a Frenchman with bedroom eyes and a smile. For me he’d have to be around 70. Maybe not.
Names and their meanings are interesting to me – as what isn’t I ask? I first learned my name meant white wave – what is that? I have no clue, but it is the Welsh meaning of my name. The other meaning are related to Guinevere, King Arthur’s Guinevere.
Then there’s Benjamin – my son’s name – perfect of course because it was given by me. It means the right hand of God. It’s a good old Jewish name. For a not Jewish boy.
There are a few girl’s names that I would never use. Cindy is one of them. Sorry if there are any Cindy’s reading this. Cynthia, yes – Cindy, no. Ethel – again apologies but I would find something softer. Hephzibah – which is what I threatened to call my child were he daring enough to be a girl. I did not want a girl. I came from a whole line of girls.
There are boy’s names too that are kind of dull – like Donald, Robert, Thomas, William, Albert, Rutherford (where’d that come from?). But there are boy’s names that are fantastic like Ian, Jonah (this may be because I am an ardent follower of Jonah Goldberg on Twitter) and Christopher, Jamie, and Zach.
I’m sure I was born to my family because I asked to be and I agreed to just come on in and spend 50 years or so trying to please parents who were not placable. But I do not think I agreed to the name Jennifer. I would like another name. Jennifer is harsh sounding and Jenny is wow old and fat sounding and Jen – well I am not a Jen – let’s just say that. I worked somewhere that out of 7 women had 3 Jennifers. You got it – they called me Jen3. Disgusting.
We sat here Friday night and watched the tornadoes spawn all over Oklahoma. Wow what a nasty time they’ve had of it. I remember tornadoes from my years in downstate Illinois and I must say I do not miss them at all. There are entire small towns in Illinois that got wiped out by tornadoes. We were in a sink hole in Champaign so we were lower than the surrounding area – we didn’t have a tornado in the town while I lived there. Not keeping up much anymore on Champaign weather since my Dad moved in with us and subsequently passed away. There’s nobody left in Illinois any more.
We lived in Iowa too. Muscatine. Sounds like a grape, right? It wasn’t so bad. It is right on the Mississippi River and the radio station would let you know when the Delta Queen was pulling in to take on coal to complete her trip down or up the Mississippi. It was fun. I had a great boss there – sadly I had to leave that job because DH got laid off and we had to move to Detroit. But Muscatine all in all wasn’t bad. What a name, huh? Mark Twain worked on the Muscatine Journal for a time. Muscatine’s claim to fame.
Our move to Detroit was bizarre. I had to leave the kids at my mom and dad’s house. They were there for six weeks. We tried to buy a house but couldn’t because we still owned the one in Muscatine. So I said heck let’s rent. DH was working in what we called Downriver but I didn’t want to live there. I wanted to live east of Detroit in Grosse Pointe – so we found and rented a home there. It was a lot cheaper than our house payment. We had a break-in three months after we moved in – and I am very sure it was the movers sent by my husband’s work that robbed us. I remember seeing the guy and girl on the day before. I was late getting out of the house because I had a meeting at a school for the little kid. The guy was driving down the street and she was walking. The next day – BAM we got robbed. Silly idiots took stuff that they could sell quickly. We got a burglar alarm and put it in even though we were renting. Never again would I live in a Detroit suburb without one.
The most wonderful thing about Bangor is its lack of crime. There is crime here but you have to be in a certain area in the town before you are exposed to it. The police do a marvelous job. There are domestic crimes and drug crimes and they are scary but few. About 5 months after we moved here I heard a fight happening right outside my window. I called the cops. It was a girl who was seriously pissed off at her boyfriend because he was with another girl. She was mauling the heck out of him and wouldn’t stop until the cops put her on the street and forced her to. She was some kind of mad. When I called the police department they wanted to know if they were fighting with guns. OMG. I had lived in Canada so long I totally forgot about guns.
We were harassed unmercifully when we lived in Canada. We bought a home on 22 acres with a dam and a trout pond. The trout pond was open to fishing by anyone in the province. Unfortunately they “anoint” new owners of the property with seriously bad behavior until the new owners get so pissed they are ready to kill them. We had ATV’s parking on our land, trash, fires – a group of kids threw kerosene in the dam and lit it on fire about a month after we moved in. We had a group of what can only be called lowlifes constantly harassing us – threatening to hit my super non-violent husband and pissing off the kid big time. I finally got a picture of them driving onto our property to take down a sign put up by the Conservation department. Then these same lowlifes decided to burn down another dam and they got caught. We didn’t have much trouble after that but it was 5 years of hell.
The people who bought our house didn’t even have it for 2 years before it was up for sale. They did all sorts of nasty things to the house – like taking off my cedar shake siding and putting on vinyl – putting black and white tile in the perfect bathroom – tearing out the french doors and putting in one slider and one big picture window right next to it. And putting on new shingles although the shingles on there were less than 3 years old. They didn’t make a dime on the sale – in fact they had to have lost a ton of money. If you’re from away and you get someone from the island to do your work for you – you will get charged twice the going price. They sold it for $30K more than what they paid for it – and their real estate commission was around $27K.
On another subject, I saw a pool in the Walgreens ad today. I know Walgreens isn’t where you’d usually go to look at a pool – but this one looked good and it’s cheap. I found a bigger one on Amazon and it’s reasonable. I just have to figure out how to fence it in. I’m pretty sure I’d have to fence it in. I would have to put it on the driveway by the garage. But hey if I could swim? I’d do it. Alternatively I could go to one of the two public pools and hope the kids won’t drive me so nuts that I choke them and drown them – better get my own pool.
Okay – I’m off to look for fencing!