Where I Just Kvetch.

Meg is hoping some of you have missed her witty banter this week. She hasn’t felt witty, or bantery whatsoever (I can make up words if I feel like it, right?)

First of all, pine pollen. She has been rendered Dorothy in the poppy fields this week so her brain isn’t working right.

Secondly, The Hounds of the Baskervilles live next door. Meg was peacefully sleeping this morning and at 4:45 a.m., she was awoken by baying, as she has been for the past two weeks. It’s the kind of noise where you sit bolt upright in your bed, and are so fU**ING pissed off, you zip downstairs grab your phone, and call the cops. Meg did this while sitting on her front step in her p.j’s, calmly explaining the dogs are unceremoniously unleashed every morning for an hour or more, barking, baying, and being batshit crazy under her bedroom window. Just so you know, she plans to call every day and calmly explain her dilemma ’til someone does something about it. She’s a bad enough sleeper as it is, she doesn’t need this bullshit.

Also this week, Meg was BOMBARDED with relocation paperwork and inspectors calling her about her impending move to the Lone Star State. The Big Financial Services Company wants to inspect their house for termites, and then conduct another separate inspection, which she was advised would be the worst thing she’d ever go through. Fab. Just fab. You can’t even imagine the scenarios that danced through her head, until her husband clued Meg in and said, no worries, we have all kinds of leeway blah, blah, loopholes, just fugettaboutit. And to boot, inspectors these days evidently don’t use their business phone, they use their girlfriend’s cell phone that shows up as “Suzy Creamcheese” on your caller ID. Meg can guarantee she’s not going to pick your call up if you are using your bimbo girlfriend’s cell phone.

And to put the cherry on top of Meg’s cake this week, the charity she volunteered so much time at, the one where she updated their website and did all their crap work for 5 years, decided to let another person redesign their web site; the one she had been begging to redo for years. Meg heard the phrase, “he’s a big donor, you know” and knew she was toast.

Meg just finished sitting at a meeting where people that KNOW NOTHING about web sites said the new one should be the color of hope, and then gave Meg a HANDOUT. With their name and middle initial at the top. She didn’t say a word, she just took it in. Then the charity asked if she could take photos at an event and come to more meetings next week. Meg said her schedule was very busy, and told them to get the 50 other volunteers they have on hand; the ones that come for the free lunch to pick up a camera and do some work at the event. They expressed concern Meg couldn’t be there for the next website meeting, which is WHAT SHE frigging DOES for a living, but she said “I’m sure you are in good hands“. She had a bright smile on her face when she left, but poured a large glass of wine for a late lunch when she arrived home.

Just to top her day off, the sandals she ordered from Zappos arrived, and Meg hated them.

Thanks for listening girls, Meg promises to have the uplifting summer reading list she had planned all week posted for your literary pleasure very soon. Now she’s going to weep in a drink for a bit.

PS. Just saw the rabbits ate my parsley and dill. Glad they have fresh breath now.

I Can’t Help Myself Friday. The Doggie Edition.

So this morning Meg is tuning into the Today show, which as you know has become unwatchable, but Meg likes to tune into psychodrama’s that are unfolding; the one where it looks like all the co-anchors hate each other.

In any case, the preview said Pitbull plays. So you know what Meg thought, right? She thought some Pitbull dogs were going to do some cute tricks. Which sounded odd, but OK.

Well, it turns out Pitbull is this guy:

Who knew?

Sheesh, Meg feels old.

In other news, Meg’s neighbors, people that she only assume are vampires as she has never seen them enter or leave their rented home, have acquired a dog. It seems they went to great lengths to procure a dog from somewhere in the Deep South, a place like say, Kentucky or Tennessee. The reason Meg has concluded this is because the dog BAYS, and BAYS every possible moment that it is released into the yard. And it could be put out at 4:45 a.m, or 5:10, a.m., or 10:00 p.m, it depends on the whim of the renters. Meg suspects the hound is unleashed to guard the ONLY backyard moonshine still in the state of Massachusetts, because WHO adopts a HOUND? Really, who does that? Meg will plan to update when she starts bootlegging their stash.

Meg would now like to leave you all on a note of ultimate cuteness, and therefore, she selfishly is going to make you watch her dog Jack’s debut on local cable access TV:

Meg would like to let you know the camera adds 10 pounds to people, not canines, and that’s all she has to say about that, except Jack is just a bundle of adorable!

Bachelorette Recap.

Meg and Piper from Her Ace in the Hole have decided to write some Bachelorette recaps as warranted for Season 8 of the Bachelorette. It’s a secret vice I know a few other bloggers share (Ashleigh, I’m looking at YOU) and someone has do the dirty work.

Roses are red, Violets are blue, Emily, I want to get to know you.

So said some dork last night on the Bachelorette.

I can tell this show is going to test my patience, but no one ever said watching a train wreck was easy. Meg tried her best not to throw rotten eggs at the screen Monday night, as Emily (aka Scarlett O’Hara) made her teeth itch with each and every moment of screen time she had.

First, some poor sap (Ryan) thought he was going to a winery or for a private plane ride. Little did he know he was going to be baking cookies for an entire soccer team. Apparently Scarlett had the bright idea to put Ryan thorough the “snack mom” test, to see if he had what it takes to bored out of your freakin’ mind at a kids sporting event. What stuck out so egregiously in the kitchen was not Scarlett’s apron, but that she let that nitwit use a WHISK to stir up chocolate chip cookie batter. Anyone? Bueller? I think we all know the laws of physics and that is NOT humanly possible.

Next, Scarlett makes all the bachelors participate in a variety show with the Muppets, and all I have to say, Kermit and Miss Piggy, you are dead to me:

When the Muppets sell out, the world has gone to hell in a hand basket.

Stay tuned to the next episode, where Scarlett is paired with Wile E. Coyote and other members of the Looney Tunes line-up.

Is it too much to hope an anvil falls on that lunkhead DJ Stevie?

The Cowgirl Chronicles

So, when we left our heroine after her trip to Texas last month, she landed back in Boston in a quandry. Would the family agree to relocate or move on to other ventures?

The trip started off as a lark, with no real thoughts of relocating to the Lone Star State. But she was surprised at the level of recruiting the Big Financial Services company put forth. Personal stories from people that have lived both places, tons of ex-Bostonians mingling with the attendees over bottomless sangrias. The kick-ass dinner by the outdoor fireplace, more mingling, more drinks, more stories. Offers to call the VIP’s anytime on their cell phone. “What can we do to help you make your decision?

Then there was the tour of towns, shops and garden centers by the real estate people. The level of detail was so personal and so flattering.

Their good friends were with them to compare notes each night. Like til 1 in the morning notes. Their kids were out of school and they were sold. Meg wasn’t ready to board the ship, despite her husband wistfully saying, “you know, I think I might want to do this“. Meg just turned her head and stared out the window of the plane, looking at the clouds.

She came home and told her husband her head wasn’t wrapped around the enormity of it. Meg sobbed when she saw chickadees at her bird feeder and tarragon growing in her garden. Can someone explain what the hell that’s all about? She couldn’t sleep and her family was all like “WHATTT?” (That’s right Moomskers, a big ass WHATTT???)

Every day there was an organic process and a little bit of talking. Not a lot, just a little. The Zadge said her new nickname could be Pam Ewing if she moved, and that sounded good. Plus the prospect of frequent girls weekends. Dawn’s Dad assured her she would love it, and Dawn has already sent Meg her first Texas joke. Virginia said her time there was interesting, kinda like a semester abroad. And Susan said, “why not shake it up, Meg?

So after many hours and weeks, the family finally decided – they are moving. Meg feels scared, excited, choked up, elated, sad and everything in between. The family feels they are up for the adventure, and with all of the benefits, they figure there’s a cute little bungalow house in California awaiting them for an earlier than expected retirement, after a stint in Texas.

That sealed the deal for Meg, along with her husband’s promise she can click her heels and fly back home anytime she wants. She is, on good advice, laying low on cowgirl boots til she gets there and can assess the situation more thoroughly.

Addendum: When Meg’s sister Ain’t Misbeehaven told the kids their aunt was moving, Mr. Seventeen said “what’s going to happen to all the holidays?” The younger Mr. Nine wanted to know if Auntie Meg was going to have a swimming pool. 🙂 Tell you what kids, you can come for the holidays and swim in the pool!

My Weather Forecast.

Meg is heading to The Cape to visit her Mom, and she just wanted to let you know what the 5 day forecast is:

She’s predicting an early start on Thursday, with a quick drive to the Cape. A chance of refreshment with a Bloody Mary is possible, following by extreme planting in the garden. Friday may start with a hangover fog, followed by a cleaning out of the basement and planning a garage sale, ending with a thirst quenching beer. Saturday the fog clears again, and the weekend starts in earnest, ending with a crisp martini. Sunday brings well needed relief with a fruit drink, because who doesn’t consider fruit healthy?And let’s face it, Monday sucks, so why not whine over some wine and some cheese and crackers.

Stayed tuned as Meg updates her Doppler; keeps you informed you on the weather, and more importantly, what matching cocktail you should be drinking.

And thanks to Doc Cynicism, who’s Facebook post about a weather app inspired today’s forecast.

Tuesday Potpourri for $300

May is flying by! The gardens are growing, summer plans are shaping up, and another season of the train wreck known as the Bachelorette is starting. Shall we discuss?

Planting perennials pays off, as evidenced by the flower and herb gardens:

And just so you know, Meg did sleep on a heating pad after all the mulching and weeding:

Meg now gets to spend time planting cool containers and interesting pots, leaving the gardens to care for themselves.


Lord, every time I see a new season of the Bachelor/Bachelorette advertised, I swear I’m not going to watch it. Yet, all those little clips of people crying and staggering around, buzzed on champagne at 3 a.m. are a siren call to Meg. She has to watch the disaster unfold and take notes on who is going to end up roseless.

Here is the Bachelorette, getting a plexiglass slipper from some geek:

Her name is Emily, and she sounds like a cross between Caroline Ingalls of Little House on the Prairie, and Scarlett O’Hara. Meg never heard to many goshes and oh my’s and thankyouverymuches in her life. Meg imagines if she ever had been a contestant, they never would have had someone say what the f**k? like she most likely would.

The lineup of men included a guy I’ll call Spicoli from Fast Times at Ridgemont High, who entered on a skateboard. Very inspirational. Actually, his name was Jef. And I didn’t mistype that, it’s really with one F.

That one above in the polyester suit carried a glass slipper he apparently purchased from Payless, and placed it on Emily’s foot. Note to that guy, stop getting your Mom to dress you like you are celebrating your Holy First Communion. My favorite was the guy with the boombox, who be-bopped in like he just come from the Jersey Shore. And yes, ladies, he was a DJ named Stevie. Good times.

Please feel no need to watch this show, Meg will provide a skewering from time to time as events warrant.


Lastly, I think you all might need this recipe as a weekend staple this summer:

I can totally picture a breakfast with Bloody Mary Tomatoes!


Carry on everyone, for tomorrow is hump day.