Since I seem to be on a critter kick with the last couple of posts, I thought I'd tell you another funny story about husband #2. He was born and raised in Denver and had absolutely no experience with life in the country. Before we got married, I took him home to meet my Grandma. There's a room with several beds over the cellar house at her farm. The first night we were there, we took our bags up, turned on the light, and #2 started laughing. I asked him what was so funny. He said, "Alright, who's the joker that put the rubber spider up on the wall?" I looked where he was pointing and there was the biggest barn spider I have ever seen in my life! I kid you not, it's leg span was as big as a saucer! Not wanting to give him a coronary, I quietly told him it wasn't a joke. The spider was indeed real. He had a funny expression for a few seconds then the color slowly faded from his face and his mouth kept opening but no sound came out. I figured I'd better take matters into my own hands and I picked up one of his brand new running shoes. "Oh, my GOD! Not my shoe!!!" I rolled up a magazine, looked at the spider, then back at the magazine, and tossed it aside. I picked up the Sears & Roebuck catalog and that did the trick. Poor city boy got a little green around the gills. He always checked between the sheets after that!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Monday, July 26, 2010
Skunk, Sidney... Skunk!!!
There was a funny story on the news here today. Apparently, a young man left his car door unlocked with a day-old peanut butter sandwich on the passenger seat. During the night, a bear opened the car door (yes, those ornery boogers can do that!) and hopped in. While rummaging around for his tasty treat, his big ol' bear butt nudged the car into neutral, and away he went down the hill in a Toyota! On the way down, a tree slammed the door shut, trapping a now angry bear inside. He tore the heck out of the interior and, with the other damage, the car's a total loss. Division of Wildlife officers were able to open the door and Mr. Bear hightailed it out of there!
I've lived here for 35 years and have never seen a bear. Mr. V and I worked together for a year at a 4200 acre ranch down in southwestern Colorado. We always told the guests not to leave food in their cars beacuse of the bears. Apparently, the fellow from Texas thought that warning didn't include his brand new, twin seat ATV. A bear trashed his seats trying to get to a bag of potato chips. We told him how sorry we were but he said, "Are you nuts? I can't wait to tell the boys back home about this!" His wife rolled her eyes. At least two or three times a week Mr. Virgo would ask me if I saw this big, black bear on the road up to the guest house but I never did. I probably would have caught sight of one of these bruins if I rode into work with him, but Mr. V gets up at the butt-crack of dawn and I'm a princess!
When I was married to husband #2, we had the most wonderful black lab named Sidney. One summer morning, Sidney got sprayed by a skunk. He was so mortified and #2 was none too pleased either. As he bathed Sid, he kept saying, "Ewwww...skunk, Sidney...skunk!" A few weeks later, #2 and Sidney were out for a run on Red Mountain. Suddenly, the dog stopped dead in his tracks and popped his head up. #2 looked up and there was a huge bear standing on the trail ahead. Sidney took off after the bear like a bat out of you-know-where. #2 yelled the only thing he could think of. "SKUNK, SIDNEY...SKUNK!!!" That poor dog put his tail between his legs and flew past #2 like his hind end was on fire! I guess he thought if that one little skunk made him stink so bad, this one was gonna be awful!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
I've lived here for 35 years and have never seen a bear. Mr. V and I worked together for a year at a 4200 acre ranch down in southwestern Colorado. We always told the guests not to leave food in their cars beacuse of the bears. Apparently, the fellow from Texas thought that warning didn't include his brand new, twin seat ATV. A bear trashed his seats trying to get to a bag of potato chips. We told him how sorry we were but he said, "Are you nuts? I can't wait to tell the boys back home about this!" His wife rolled her eyes. At least two or three times a week Mr. Virgo would ask me if I saw this big, black bear on the road up to the guest house but I never did. I probably would have caught sight of one of these bruins if I rode into work with him, but Mr. V gets up at the butt-crack of dawn and I'm a princess!
When I was married to husband #2, we had the most wonderful black lab named Sidney. One summer morning, Sidney got sprayed by a skunk. He was so mortified and #2 was none too pleased either. As he bathed Sid, he kept saying, "Ewwww...skunk, Sidney...skunk!" A few weeks later, #2 and Sidney were out for a run on Red Mountain. Suddenly, the dog stopped dead in his tracks and popped his head up. #2 looked up and there was a huge bear standing on the trail ahead. Sidney took off after the bear like a bat out of you-know-where. #2 yelled the only thing he could think of. "SKUNK, SIDNEY...SKUNK!!!" That poor dog put his tail between his legs and flew past #2 like his hind end was on fire! I guess he thought if that one little skunk made him stink so bad, this one was gonna be awful!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Sunday, July 25, 2010
I ain't afraid of no...SNAKE!!!!
Snakes really don't bother me. Granted, I have never seen a poisonous snake outside of the zoo. Mr. Virgo, on the other hand, hates snakes. Not that I blame him. He's been bitten by snakes more than once, so I guess that gives him the right. Mr. Virgo lived in Florida for many years, home to some very nasty serpents. When you mow the lawn in Florida, the snakes will burrow down in the grass. Once you've mowed over them, they often jump up at you. Consequently, Mr. V took to mowing the lawn with a shotgun in one hand pushing the mower in the other. You can't imagine how many lawn mowers he's killed!
We've had a lot of snakes in our yard this year for some reason. I know they're only garter snakes but the only good snake is a dead snake in Mr. Virgo's book. We were out clearing the flower beds the other day and I killed three within 15 minutes. Now, it's not enough that I've incapacitated them. I've got to go the extra mile with the pruning shears in order to prove to Mr. V that they are indeed among the not-so-dearly departed. We were gathering up the weeds and leaves we had cleared into a big, black trash bag that my dearly beloved was holding for me. In between armloads of detritus, another dead snake would go into the bag. About a minute after I threw in the last of the latent reptiles, the phone on Mr. Virgo's belt started vibrating. He jumped about three feet straight up, the bag went flying, and I wet my pants laughing at him!
I'm going to have to take stock out in Depends if this keeps up.
Be good to each other!
Ginny
We've had a lot of snakes in our yard this year for some reason. I know they're only garter snakes but the only good snake is a dead snake in Mr. Virgo's book. We were out clearing the flower beds the other day and I killed three within 15 minutes. Now, it's not enough that I've incapacitated them. I've got to go the extra mile with the pruning shears in order to prove to Mr. V that they are indeed among the not-so-dearly departed. We were gathering up the weeds and leaves we had cleared into a big, black trash bag that my dearly beloved was holding for me. In between armloads of detritus, another dead snake would go into the bag. About a minute after I threw in the last of the latent reptiles, the phone on Mr. Virgo's belt started vibrating. He jumped about three feet straight up, the bag went flying, and I wet my pants laughing at him!
I'm going to have to take stock out in Depends if this keeps up.
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Friday, July 23, 2010
I CAN Cook!
Notice I emphasized can. Just because I can doesn't necessarily mean I do. The best thing I make for dinner is reservations! Dan, on the other hand, is a trained chef. We made the agreement when we first got married that whoever cooked, the other did the dishes. Mr. Virgo can cook a meal for 20 people and you would never know someone had been in the kitchen. He cleans as he goes. Me? I scramble up a couple of eggs for breakfast and you would think I had been cooking for a bunch of Storm Troopers for three days! I can't seem to get organized in the kitchen. I leave the cabinet doors open (remember Mr. Virgo?) and use five utensils for every one that's actually needed.
My former husband was not a picky eater. If he didn't have to cook it, he didn't really care what was placed in front of him. He'd just slather it with hot sauce and he was fine. I once told him I was going to start serving him Alpo since he couldn't taste anything else but the Tobasco anyway. (You think maybe that's why we're not married anymore?) But Dan...he has a discerning palate! And he wants to know at 7 o'clock in the morning what he's going to have for dinner that night. Are you kidding me? I don't know if I want a second cup of coffee at that ungodly hour!
I only work three days a week and I can't expect my sweet hubby to come home from a long day at work and cook for me. So, I've tried my best. One day, he called me from work and told me he had his mouth set for hot wings. He makes the BEST hot wings! I told him I was sure I could do that. I went to the store to buy some chicken wings. When I got home, I called hubby to ask him how he makes the wings. He told me to turn the oven on to 350 degrees, put a lot of garlic salt on them, and bake them for an hour and a half. I thought that sounded awfully long, but he's the chef, not me. He got home and changed for dinner. His mouth was watering from the wonderful aroma of these wings he'd been waiting for all day. I pulled out the pan with pride to show off that indeed, I can cook. Those poor little things were hard and dried up, but not wanting to discourage me, he said they looked fine. We sat down to eat and the poor man nearly broke a crown trying to gnaw on what resembled chicken jerky. We sat quietly for a few minutes and I looked over at his attempts to chew. I noticed he was struggling but I also didn't want to admit I had screwed up dinner...again! Finally I told him it was obvious he wasn't enjoying the wings (I mean, really...how could he?) He very graciously informed me that what I bought were drumettes, not wings. They only need to be cooked about 20 minutes!
My former husband was not a picky eater. If he didn't have to cook it, he didn't really care what was placed in front of him. He'd just slather it with hot sauce and he was fine. I once told him I was going to start serving him Alpo since he couldn't taste anything else but the Tobasco anyway. (You think maybe that's why we're not married anymore?) But Dan...he has a discerning palate! And he wants to know at 7 o'clock in the morning what he's going to have for dinner that night. Are you kidding me? I don't know if I want a second cup of coffee at that ungodly hour!
I only work three days a week and I can't expect my sweet hubby to come home from a long day at work and cook for me. So, I've tried my best. One day, he called me from work and told me he had his mouth set for hot wings. He makes the BEST hot wings! I told him I was sure I could do that. I went to the store to buy some chicken wings. When I got home, I called hubby to ask him how he makes the wings. He told me to turn the oven on to 350 degrees, put a lot of garlic salt on them, and bake them for an hour and a half. I thought that sounded awfully long, but he's the chef, not me. He got home and changed for dinner. His mouth was watering from the wonderful aroma of these wings he'd been waiting for all day. I pulled out the pan with pride to show off that indeed, I can cook. Those poor little things were hard and dried up, but not wanting to discourage me, he said they looked fine. We sat down to eat and the poor man nearly broke a crown trying to gnaw on what resembled chicken jerky. We sat quietly for a few minutes and I looked over at his attempts to chew. I noticed he was struggling but I also didn't want to admit I had screwed up dinner...again! Finally I told him it was obvious he wasn't enjoying the wings (I mean, really...how could he?) He very graciously informed me that what I bought were drumettes, not wings. They only need to be cooked about 20 minutes!
I can grill steaks, make a pot roast, and my spaghetti is pretty darned good if I do say so myself. I'm great at ordering pizza and picking up Subway on my way home from work. But if Dan hasn't had to work that day, he does the real cooking. That's fine. I'll just wash the dishes and look pretty!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Thursday, July 22, 2010
If It's Tourist Season, Why Can't We Shoot Them?
The small towns of Colorado depend on tourism dollars to survive. Denver isn't as affected by tourists as the mountain towns are. I lived in a tourist town not too far from Aspen for 21 years and we always looked forward to April and October when the tourists had all gone home. Glenwood Springs is home to the world's largest outdoor hot springs pool. My daughter used to call it "people soup" because it was absolutely packed. Consequently, we only went in the off season.
Dan has worked in the hospitality industry for 38 years. When I first met him, he was the Food & Beverage Director at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen where he rubbed elbows with the likes of Johnny Depp, Robin Williams, Anthony Hopkins, the Queen of England, and many others. One morning Bill Murray was wandering around looking kind of lost. Dan called over to him and said, "Bill, how's that restaurant of yours in St. Augustine doing?" Bill looked at him in shock and said, "Your the one who ate there!"
Most of the restaurants in Aspen are closed on Christmas Day so the Jerome has a buffet. Jessica Simpson and Brittany Spears were going through the line. When they got to the carving station they asked what was being carved. The steward said, "Ma'am, that's turkey." They looked at each other and Jessica said, "Really? Is that what a turkey looks like?" Then again, she thought Chicken of the Sea was actually...chicken!
Dan used to have his own restaurant in Snowmass and once kicked Barbra Streisand out for being obnoxious. She started complaining, loudly, that people shouldn't eat animals. Dan said, "Well, it is a steakhouse!" and sent her on her way. He has the funniest stories of things the tourists would ask him. One day he was cruising through the outdoor patio making sure everything was going well. There were some elk browsing on the hillside and some tourists called Dan over and asked, "At what elevation do deer turn into elk?" Dan looked at them seriously and said, "Right around 7,000 feet, ma'am." On a breezy day, a lady actually asked him how they get all the flags to go in the same direction like that. Another person asked him what they did with all the white stuff in the summer. "You mean the snow, ma'am? Well, we have trucks gather it all up and move it into storage for the summer so it doesn't get dirty." There's a mountain just outside of Aspen called Maroon Bells. One person asked Dan what time the Maroon Bells ring. Dan said, "In the summer they ring at 9am and 5pm, but we turn them off in the winter so the deer can turn into elk without being disturbed."
And these people breed.
Take care of each other!
Ginny
Dan has worked in the hospitality industry for 38 years. When I first met him, he was the Food & Beverage Director at the Hotel Jerome in Aspen where he rubbed elbows with the likes of Johnny Depp, Robin Williams, Anthony Hopkins, the Queen of England, and many others. One morning Bill Murray was wandering around looking kind of lost. Dan called over to him and said, "Bill, how's that restaurant of yours in St. Augustine doing?" Bill looked at him in shock and said, "Your the one who ate there!"
Most of the restaurants in Aspen are closed on Christmas Day so the Jerome has a buffet. Jessica Simpson and Brittany Spears were going through the line. When they got to the carving station they asked what was being carved. The steward said, "Ma'am, that's turkey." They looked at each other and Jessica said, "Really? Is that what a turkey looks like?" Then again, she thought Chicken of the Sea was actually...chicken!
Dan used to have his own restaurant in Snowmass and once kicked Barbra Streisand out for being obnoxious. She started complaining, loudly, that people shouldn't eat animals. Dan said, "Well, it is a steakhouse!" and sent her on her way. He has the funniest stories of things the tourists would ask him. One day he was cruising through the outdoor patio making sure everything was going well. There were some elk browsing on the hillside and some tourists called Dan over and asked, "At what elevation do deer turn into elk?" Dan looked at them seriously and said, "Right around 7,000 feet, ma'am." On a breezy day, a lady actually asked him how they get all the flags to go in the same direction like that. Another person asked him what they did with all the white stuff in the summer. "You mean the snow, ma'am? Well, we have trucks gather it all up and move it into storage for the summer so it doesn't get dirty." There's a mountain just outside of Aspen called Maroon Bells. One person asked Dan what time the Maroon Bells ring. Dan said, "In the summer they ring at 9am and 5pm, but we turn them off in the winter so the deer can turn into elk without being disturbed."
And these people breed.
Take care of each other!
Ginny
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
My $75 Tomato
When I was growing up in West Virginia, there was always a garden to eat from. My grandparents lived on a farm and had the most wonderful garden. One year my dad rented the lot behind our house and put in a huge garden that fed us through the winter with the corn, green beans, and tomatoes that we canned and froze. While any garden is a lot of work, it seems much easier to grow things in the moist, fertile soil back home.
My former husband and I bought our first house on two acres and I set out to have the garden of my dreams. I planned everything out, browsed the garden catalogs, and plowed the area myself with a borrowed John Deere. Since the growing season in Colorado is much shorter than that of West Virginia, I didn't plant until after Mother's Day. I planted long rows of corn, beans, lettuce, carrots, potatoes, onions...you name it, I planted it. I fertilized, watered, tended, and prayed over my little plants as they started to emerge from the rocky soil. I had to run 150 feet of garden hose to get out to the garden in order to irrigate it. Things were going well and I left for a trip with my daughter to go see my family back home. Al called me with the sad news that it had dropped down to 23 degrees and all my plants were dead. This was the third week of June! When I got back, I tried again and managed to get a good deal of beans, but the tomatoes were another story. I went out in late August to see how they were doing and the deer had taken a bite out of each green tomato! When the next spring came and it was time to plant, the deer were lined up for the buffet and I decided the Farmer's Market would be a much more cost effective solution for fresh veggies.
When I got divorced ten years ago, I bought a sweet little house and I was determined to try my hand at gardening again. One of my neighbors had moved and left me a hot tub that didn't work, but they swore they'd be back to get it. When they didn't come back, I decided it would make a perfect little container garden. I filled the bottom half with old wood, stumps, and rocks and filled the rest with topsoil. I rigged an irrigation system connected to the automatic sprinkler system. We enjoyed veggies from that little 8 x 8 garden all summer long. I was a farmer!
Dan and I moved to a house in the suburbs of Denver a year and a half ago and my green thumb got the itch. I saw an infomercial about the "Topsy Turvy" planter where you stick your plant in the hole in the bottom, fill the planter with dirt, water it from the top, and voila...bushels of tomatoes. I bought two so I'd have plenty of tomatoes to share with my family and friends! This spring I went to the local garden shop and bought two of the biggest tomato plants I could find. Then I needed two bags of good potting soil.
It took two of us to plant the tomatoes. There is a small hole in the bottom of the Topsy Turvy that was about 5 sizes smaller than the large root ball surrounding my tomato plants. I took one out of the pot and rolled it around till it would fit in the hole. With the plant being about 4 feet high, one of us had to hold the planter out about head high and the other had to pour the dirt in. Now, imagine holding a planter with twenty-five pounds of dirt in it, head high! I had bought two hooks for hanging the planters from the old swing set in the back yard. We both tried to reach the top bar holding a now 25 pound plant but there was no way we could reach it. So one of us held the plant while the other lifted my grand-daughter up to place the hook. One down, one to go. This time, my daughter thought it made more sense to thread the tomato plant through the hole from the inside so we wouldn't disrupt the root ball. She threaded and threaded and after breaking off several of the branches, we had it in and commenced to pouring in the dirt. We finally got them both hung and I gave them the good soaking that the directions ordered. I took my hubby out when he got home from work to show him what his loving wife had done with her day. There, lying on the ground, was one of the planters. With the weight of the soil and the water, the hook stretched out and the whole thing came crashing down, breaking the tomato plant in half! We tried to salvage it but to no avail. We put it away and placed all our hopes on the remaining plant. It has grown well, has lots of pretty leaves, and......one solitary tomato. No other flowers, just this one lonely two inch tomato growing for all it's worth.
One tomato.
Two Topsy-Turvys........$40
Two tomato plants............$20
Two bags of soil .................$15
Total cost.............................$75
The ribbing my husband is giving me from this latest episode.....priceless. I'm looking at recipes now to decide how to serve this little delicacy!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
My former husband and I bought our first house on two acres and I set out to have the garden of my dreams. I planned everything out, browsed the garden catalogs, and plowed the area myself with a borrowed John Deere. Since the growing season in Colorado is much shorter than that of West Virginia, I didn't plant until after Mother's Day. I planted long rows of corn, beans, lettuce, carrots, potatoes, onions...you name it, I planted it. I fertilized, watered, tended, and prayed over my little plants as they started to emerge from the rocky soil. I had to run 150 feet of garden hose to get out to the garden in order to irrigate it. Things were going well and I left for a trip with my daughter to go see my family back home. Al called me with the sad news that it had dropped down to 23 degrees and all my plants were dead. This was the third week of June! When I got back, I tried again and managed to get a good deal of beans, but the tomatoes were another story. I went out in late August to see how they were doing and the deer had taken a bite out of each green tomato! When the next spring came and it was time to plant, the deer were lined up for the buffet and I decided the Farmer's Market would be a much more cost effective solution for fresh veggies.
When I got divorced ten years ago, I bought a sweet little house and I was determined to try my hand at gardening again. One of my neighbors had moved and left me a hot tub that didn't work, but they swore they'd be back to get it. When they didn't come back, I decided it would make a perfect little container garden. I filled the bottom half with old wood, stumps, and rocks and filled the rest with topsoil. I rigged an irrigation system connected to the automatic sprinkler system. We enjoyed veggies from that little 8 x 8 garden all summer long. I was a farmer!
Dan and I moved to a house in the suburbs of Denver a year and a half ago and my green thumb got the itch. I saw an infomercial about the "Topsy Turvy" planter where you stick your plant in the hole in the bottom, fill the planter with dirt, water it from the top, and voila...bushels of tomatoes. I bought two so I'd have plenty of tomatoes to share with my family and friends! This spring I went to the local garden shop and bought two of the biggest tomato plants I could find. Then I needed two bags of good potting soil.
It took two of us to plant the tomatoes. There is a small hole in the bottom of the Topsy Turvy that was about 5 sizes smaller than the large root ball surrounding my tomato plants. I took one out of the pot and rolled it around till it would fit in the hole. With the plant being about 4 feet high, one of us had to hold the planter out about head high and the other had to pour the dirt in. Now, imagine holding a planter with twenty-five pounds of dirt in it, head high! I had bought two hooks for hanging the planters from the old swing set in the back yard. We both tried to reach the top bar holding a now 25 pound plant but there was no way we could reach it. So one of us held the plant while the other lifted my grand-daughter up to place the hook. One down, one to go. This time, my daughter thought it made more sense to thread the tomato plant through the hole from the inside so we wouldn't disrupt the root ball. She threaded and threaded and after breaking off several of the branches, we had it in and commenced to pouring in the dirt. We finally got them both hung and I gave them the good soaking that the directions ordered. I took my hubby out when he got home from work to show him what his loving wife had done with her day. There, lying on the ground, was one of the planters. With the weight of the soil and the water, the hook stretched out and the whole thing came crashing down, breaking the tomato plant in half! We tried to salvage it but to no avail. We put it away and placed all our hopes on the remaining plant. It has grown well, has lots of pretty leaves, and......one solitary tomato. No other flowers, just this one lonely two inch tomato growing for all it's worth.
One tomato.
Two Topsy-Turvys........$40
Two tomato plants............$20
Two bags of soil .................$15
Total cost.............................$75
The ribbing my husband is giving me from this latest episode.....priceless. I'm looking at recipes now to decide how to serve this little delicacy!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Funny Names
I've had many names due to three marriages. I was born Virginia Roush. I always went by "Ginny" at home but at school it was always Virginia. I was teased in junior high (weren't we all?) with "Virgin" which prompted me to insist people call me by my nickname. I never felt like a "Virginia". Ginny just seems to suit me.
My first married name was Virginia Meadows, which is quite picturesque and would make a great pen name for an author. My second married name was Ginny Saliman which indicates a shiksa married a Jewish man, which she did. Then Dan came into my life. When he asked me to marry him, I said "Wow, my name will be Ginny McKinney!" He asked if I had ever considered going back to Virginia. Ha, not likely. This is the cutest name I've ever had! My daughter says it sounds like a Dr. Seuss character which is probably where Dan was going with that.
There are a lot of people with funny names but none more so than some doctors I have known. There was a Dr. Dix, the gynecologist. I've known a Dr. Payne and a Dr. Bone. Did their names prompt them to choose a career in medicine or was it mere coincidence? Then there was Dr. Cox, the urologist. I have a funny story about him. My good friend was his nurse. She was at a party once and someone asked her what she did for a living and she said she was a urology nurse. He asked her if she enjoyed her work and she told him it was great, but you really had to like Cox (meaning the doctor she worked for). The guy thought about this a minute and said, "Well, I guess that would be helpful!"
There was a very nice man in Parkersburg named A. Golden Rule. We've all heard of Armand Hammer, the philanthropist. And, honest to God, I kid you not, there was a man running for sheriff when I was in high school that was named Peter Beeter! He didn't win.
You've probably heard of the Hogg family in Texas who named their kids Ima, Ura, and Hesa. And of course, there's Moon Unit Zappa, Frank Zappa's kid. I decided to Google "funny names" and these are some that I came up with.
Barb Dwyer
B. A. Ware
Barb E. Dahl
Anne Teak
Biff Wellington
Dr. Bonnie Beaver (she's another gynecologist!)
Dick Rasch
Dr. Harry Beaver (yet another gynecologist!)
Doug and Phil Updegrave
Dr. Slaughter (I'm not kidding!)
Les Plack, DDS
Paige Turner (is she a librarian?)
Rex Easley (a traffic safety teacher)
Dr. Sumey (I wonder if he can get malpractice insurance?)
But by far, the top award for funny names goes to a guy who lived in Aspen, Dr. Head. His first name was Richard and, you guessed it, he went by "Dick"! Can you imagine the overhead page at an airport? "Paging Dr. Head. Dr. Dick...Head."? Come to think of it, I haven't heard overhead pages at airports for years. You know, the ones that directed you to the nearest white courtesy telephone? I guess they got tired of paging Connie Lingus, Candy Barr, and Harry Rump!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
My first married name was Virginia Meadows, which is quite picturesque and would make a great pen name for an author. My second married name was Ginny Saliman which indicates a shiksa married a Jewish man, which she did. Then Dan came into my life. When he asked me to marry him, I said "Wow, my name will be Ginny McKinney!" He asked if I had ever considered going back to Virginia. Ha, not likely. This is the cutest name I've ever had! My daughter says it sounds like a Dr. Seuss character which is probably where Dan was going with that.
There are a lot of people with funny names but none more so than some doctors I have known. There was a Dr. Dix, the gynecologist. I've known a Dr. Payne and a Dr. Bone. Did their names prompt them to choose a career in medicine or was it mere coincidence? Then there was Dr. Cox, the urologist. I have a funny story about him. My good friend was his nurse. She was at a party once and someone asked her what she did for a living and she said she was a urology nurse. He asked her if she enjoyed her work and she told him it was great, but you really had to like Cox (meaning the doctor she worked for). The guy thought about this a minute and said, "Well, I guess that would be helpful!"
There was a very nice man in Parkersburg named A. Golden Rule. We've all heard of Armand Hammer, the philanthropist. And, honest to God, I kid you not, there was a man running for sheriff when I was in high school that was named Peter Beeter! He didn't win.
You've probably heard of the Hogg family in Texas who named their kids Ima, Ura, and Hesa. And of course, there's Moon Unit Zappa, Frank Zappa's kid. I decided to Google "funny names" and these are some that I came up with.
Barb Dwyer
B. A. Ware
Barb E. Dahl
Anne Teak
Biff Wellington
Dr. Bonnie Beaver (she's another gynecologist!)
Dick Rasch
Dr. Harry Beaver (yet another gynecologist!)
Doug and Phil Updegrave
Dr. Slaughter (I'm not kidding!)
Les Plack, DDS
Paige Turner (is she a librarian?)
Rex Easley (a traffic safety teacher)
Dr. Sumey (I wonder if he can get malpractice insurance?)
But by far, the top award for funny names goes to a guy who lived in Aspen, Dr. Head. His first name was Richard and, you guessed it, he went by "Dick"! Can you imagine the overhead page at an airport? "Paging Dr. Head. Dr. Dick...Head."? Come to think of it, I haven't heard overhead pages at airports for years. You know, the ones that directed you to the nearest white courtesy telephone? I guess they got tired of paging Connie Lingus, Candy Barr, and Harry Rump!
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Mr. Virgo
I met my sweet hubby five years ago on match.com and it was the best $19.95 I ever spent! He's a much better fit than my other two. Now, that's not to say anything bad about the others but there's a reason I'm not still married to them, no? Case in point, we were browsing a jewelry store (sorry, ladies...I saw him first!) and something was said about my taste in sparklies. Dan smiled sweetly and said, "You know, sweetheart...it is all about you." I smiled back and said, "You know? You learned that a lot faster than any of my other husbands." God, I love him!
Dan earned the nickname "Mr. Virgo" not too long after we got together. It stems from his sense of organization which, being a Gemini, I sorely lack. When we go to a store, we have to turn right immediately inside the door, circle around the perimeter, then go up and down the aisles in order not to miss anything. I, on the other hand, am easily distracted by...oh my gosh, look at those gorgeous little strappy sandals and can you believe the price? After five minutes I can't remember what I came into the store for in the first place. And don't get me started on the cabinet doors or the pile of mail by the phone! Sometimes my husband takes offense at his nickname and thinks I'm being critical, but I'm not. If it weren't for his grounding influence, I might just float off like one of those balloons in the Macy's parade.
I think it was on our first date when Dan asked me if I had ever given any thought to opening a bed and breakfast. My jaw dropped! That is something I have always, always wanted to do. Well, that and be a stand-up comedian, but that's another story altogether. We've discussed it off and on the past five years and we had been in hopes we could do it here in Colorado. But, with the cost of real estate here, if we ever want to own property without a mortgage, it isn't going to be in this area. My heart has always been in West Virginia. There is something about the shades of green in those hills that can't be beat. And when you look out over the mountains they are sheathed in beautiful blues and purples. Maybe it's the artist in me, but my pallette needs more than the reds, browns, and grays of the Rockies. After visiting my home country last week, I am more convinced than ever that my feet need that West Virginia red clay under them. I will miss my family here, but there's something special about a trip to Nana and Papa's house, no matter where it is.
So, to my dear Mr. Virgo...you are my anchor and I love you with all my heart! This new adventure is going to be great fun and I promise...it really isn't all about me. (Well...maybe!)
Be good to each other!
Ginny
Dan earned the nickname "Mr. Virgo" not too long after we got together. It stems from his sense of organization which, being a Gemini, I sorely lack. When we go to a store, we have to turn right immediately inside the door, circle around the perimeter, then go up and down the aisles in order not to miss anything. I, on the other hand, am easily distracted by...oh my gosh, look at those gorgeous little strappy sandals and can you believe the price? After five minutes I can't remember what I came into the store for in the first place. And don't get me started on the cabinet doors or the pile of mail by the phone! Sometimes my husband takes offense at his nickname and thinks I'm being critical, but I'm not. If it weren't for his grounding influence, I might just float off like one of those balloons in the Macy's parade.
I think it was on our first date when Dan asked me if I had ever given any thought to opening a bed and breakfast. My jaw dropped! That is something I have always, always wanted to do. Well, that and be a stand-up comedian, but that's another story altogether. We've discussed it off and on the past five years and we had been in hopes we could do it here in Colorado. But, with the cost of real estate here, if we ever want to own property without a mortgage, it isn't going to be in this area. My heart has always been in West Virginia. There is something about the shades of green in those hills that can't be beat. And when you look out over the mountains they are sheathed in beautiful blues and purples. Maybe it's the artist in me, but my pallette needs more than the reds, browns, and grays of the Rockies. After visiting my home country last week, I am more convinced than ever that my feet need that West Virginia red clay under them. I will miss my family here, but there's something special about a trip to Nana and Papa's house, no matter where it is.
So, to my dear Mr. Virgo...you are my anchor and I love you with all my heart! This new adventure is going to be great fun and I promise...it really isn't all about me. (Well...maybe!)
Be good to each other!
Ginny
One Funny Chick
"Funny" has so many connotations. For instance, one can be hysterically funny. Another can be three fries short of a Happy Meal which, depending on your degree of sophistication, or inebriation, can also be hysterically funny. Some are only funny when they drink and that's because beer makes them think they're funny. I've been told I'm funny but I don't always know how to take it. Do they really think I'm funny or are they laughing because I'm not wrapped too tight? Are they laughing with me or at me? Who cares? As long as they're laughing, I'm happy!
My mother always told me my mouth would get me in trouble. I told her my mouth couldn't get me "in trouble" because I knew where babies came from. She was right, my mouth got me in trouble. And it has many, many times. There was this one time, at church camp....I was in the pool and there was this pretty little blond girl swimming with me. We were talking and she got all emotional and said, "I think you know why I came here." I gasped and asked her if she was "in trouble". She replied that indeed she was not. She came to get baptized. I guess we know which one of us needed to be at church camp!
We all have times when we only open our mouths to change feet. I was running to catch an elevator one time. I stuck my hand in at the last second and the door popped open. I noticed there were a couple of people on board but I wasn't paying very close attention. As I pushed the button I said, "Boy, that's a good way to lose your arm!" I turned around and there standing before me were not one, but TWO above-the-elbow amputees! It was a very long, quiet ride down I can tell you. Hey, at least I didn't say, "Man, is that what happened to you?" or "Wow, I bet you can get your nails done half price, huh?"
Anyway, I digress. This blog is meant to be a chronicle of events, thoughts, and sometimes stories, leading up to a monumental change my hubby, Dan (aka Mr. Virgo), and I are contemplating next year. We shall see where it leads us!
Take care of each other!
Ginny
My mother always told me my mouth would get me in trouble. I told her my mouth couldn't get me "in trouble" because I knew where babies came from. She was right, my mouth got me in trouble. And it has many, many times. There was this one time, at church camp....I was in the pool and there was this pretty little blond girl swimming with me. We were talking and she got all emotional and said, "I think you know why I came here." I gasped and asked her if she was "in trouble". She replied that indeed she was not. She came to get baptized. I guess we know which one of us needed to be at church camp!
We all have times when we only open our mouths to change feet. I was running to catch an elevator one time. I stuck my hand in at the last second and the door popped open. I noticed there were a couple of people on board but I wasn't paying very close attention. As I pushed the button I said, "Boy, that's a good way to lose your arm!" I turned around and there standing before me were not one, but TWO above-the-elbow amputees! It was a very long, quiet ride down I can tell you. Hey, at least I didn't say, "Man, is that what happened to you?" or "Wow, I bet you can get your nails done half price, huh?"
Anyway, I digress. This blog is meant to be a chronicle of events, thoughts, and sometimes stories, leading up to a monumental change my hubby, Dan (aka Mr. Virgo), and I are contemplating next year. We shall see where it leads us!
Take care of each other!
Ginny
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