A sneak peek at my granddaughter!

Ooh that smell....

It all started with a smell...


No perhaps it started with the noises in the attic...


...or maybe an old friend that no one remembers?

Last night I was rooting around my pantry to come up with a meal to cook for myself and with the limited amount of groceries I allow myself to keep on hand, that was a task not too many want to tackle. I, Little Miss Julia Child wannabe took the challenge and commenced rooting like a rat. I came up with Penne Pasta, Pesto and Fresh Frozen Shrimp.
Hmmm, I said..I think I can! I think I can! and yes I did!

We all know what shrimp peelings smell like after they've been sitting awhile? I placed mine in the garbage can in a plastic bag knowing that in the morning I would be discarding them outside in the garbage bin to be picked up by the trashman. This morning I awake to a deluge the likes of which God should be very proud! Since sugah melts, I could not bring my trash to the bin at the road so instead of leaving it in the house, I place it on my bbq pit on the patio, praying to the God that sent the monsoon not to allow any neighborhood cats to pimmage through it leaving a scattering of stinky shrimp shells. Driving under my carport, I continue my prayers and when I rounded the corner, my eyes lit upon the untouched garbage bag.


God is Good! Sometimes.


I hurry and dispose of all evidence.


Unlocking the door, I walk into my laundry room to a smell that would knock out Cassius Clay, Muhammad Ali and whatever other name he goes by. WTF? I'm thinking to myself Ali killed somebody with his "sting like bee" punch and left the dead body in my house to rot.

Rewind to the previous night, I'm chatting on Facebook with an old friend of my brothers that I have no remembrance of ever knowing but he remembers me. hmmmm...time to rummage up an old yearbook, eh?

I disregard the smell for awhile, pull down the ladder to my attic, and climb up, knowing full well I should never do that alone especially being of the advanced years that I am. My need to know the identity of my Facebook friend outweighs all caution. Up the ladder I go, and I turn on the light to the sounds of FLIES whirring around like helicopter blades. Whoosh! The smell hits me worst than any Muhammad punch. I rush down the ladder like a spring chicken, throw up the ladder, and shut the attic door, but too late! Out comes a swarm of flies battling each other to find residence on every piece of furniture.

I have three flyswatters somewhere in this house! Count them...THREE. I cannot not find one of them! Why? Because I allowed my grandson to play with them at one point and I prayed to Allah, St. Anthony and all the Saints but still could not find a swatter to swat them flies!

I headed to the local grocery store to purchase one and they had everything imaginable but a flyswatter but lo and behold they had a flystick. I will buy anything NOT to have to go to Walmart! So I purchase this lil invention and bring it home WITHOUT reading the directions thinking "how hard can it be?"

I get home and proceed to read that you need syrup or honey to attract the damned flies to the stick. Refer to Paragraph One...I have limited groceries in my pantry, the least of which is honey or syrup. The flies are a buzzin' and Sharlene's a rooting in her pantry for something to attract them. My eyes finally come to rest upon a box of brown sugar. I started singing a Rolling Stones song (Ah brown sugar how come you taste so good(a-ha) brown sugar, just like a young girl should A-huh) as I made a mixture for the flystick.


Well folks, there is one of the flies (Ali) does it look like it's on the stick?

Didn't think so.

Guess who'll be catching flies tonight as she sleeps with her mouth wide open?

My future grandchild...

still in the oven....

woooooooooooooooohoooooooooooooooooo!

Wild Hairs

You're supposed to get

wild hairs up your ass but

I just plucked one off my chin!

Keith Urban

On 7/11/09, Keith Urban invited me to Dallas so he could perform for me. He is such a talented musician that I couldn’t imagine it being wasted on just myself so I graciously invited enough people to fill the American Airlines Arena. Brandi, her husband, and Matthew begged to come along so what could a mother do? After the concert, Keith wanted to take me home but I had to remind him that he had a wife and child. I know he hated the rejection but we all have to come to terms with things we can’t have. It was the 5th time he requested my presence and he was equally as good the 5th time as he was the 1st time! He really needs to stop stalking me…

On a happier note, Brandi decided that I couldn't handle just Keith Urban so we woke to the sounds of "OMG OMG OMG" shouted loudly, at an ungodly hour, from the hotel bathroom. Her husband and I run into the bathroom to find my daughter, in all her glory, sitting on the toilet with a positive pregnancy test in her hand. Her husband says "what a romantic way to find out I'm gonna be a Dad again" Leave it to Brandi!

A few pics of our weekend:

Doesn't she look happy? Matthew isn't too sure about it all...he knows his spoiled days are numbered! I don't know how to break it to the new baby but he'll always be my special one!

Come on Brandi, let's quit taking pictures and go...Keith is waiting for me!

Look at that glow on her face!



He was so excited to see me he turned all the stage lights on when I arrived!

Look at me way up front...He's singing "Kiss a
Girl" to me...

Update

I guess I need to update everyone on what's going on in my life....










...........so that's about it.