I was just reading a Twitter friends blog and she mentioned Knickers. We call them panties or underpants here in USA; this immediately brought to mind a funny and embarrassing story about my dear Mother In Law, Margaret. She was a first generation Italian. He parents came from Sicily and it was an arranged marriage. I always enjoyed her stories about growing up Italian in Chicago. Margaret was a short lady, only four foot nine inches tall, and she had a loud deep voice. She had a wonderful sense of humor. She was very hard of hearing which is why she spoke loudly.
One day she told me of her visit to see her Physician, Dr. Salerno, who was Italian also. His patients were mostly Italian. He also would make home visits if needed. Rose was his Girl Friday. When the exam was completed Margaret dressed quickly so she could catch the next bus to go home. When she got home she found out she forgot her panties/underpants at the Dr.'s office. She immediately called the Doctor's office. Well, lo and behold, instead of Rose answering, Dr. Salerno answered and he said hello, and said, "Margaret......did you forget something?
Rose had gone home and Dr. Salerno found her underpants in the exam room! At this point Margaret said she would pick them up at a later date. I don't know if she ever did.
Someday soon I will write about Margaret and Sam Giancona, the Mob dude.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Dick and the Polish Sausage
My husband, Dick doesn't really cook. He's a great guy, but doesn't know much about cooking or anything included in cooking. You will find as I write blogs now and in the future, that he is a klutz. I don't know what else to name his problem. I never know what he will do when I ask him to do something for me. This time we both were in the kitchen. I was cooking at the stove and he was in front of the sink. I asked him if he would kindly rinse the raw polish sausage off for me. He said fine. I turned around and much to my chagrin, he dunked the sausage into the soapy dishwater and was swooshing it around.
I was aghast, took the sausage, rinsed it off with clear water, cooked it and then ate it. It was the cleanest sausage we ever had.
I was aghast, took the sausage, rinsed it off with clear water, cooked it and then ate it. It was the cleanest sausage we ever had.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Sump Pumps
Seems odd to me for a woman to write about sump pumps, but last night we had a bad storm with lots of thunder and rain. I think we had a little hail too. Our power went off for the sump pump which brought to mind 2 things I thought I’d jot down here. First, they are a pain in the neck, and they are somewhat stressful when owned by Dick and Kathy. Second,I have a funny story about my husband, Dick and the sump pump:
For those who are not familiar with sump pumps, they are designed to draw water, which accumulates around your home’s foundation to remove any pressure on the cement walls caused by the water raising up from the ground and going up the outside wall. If it is not removed, the walls will collapse inward and may cause costly repair later. The pump is run by electricity. There is a hole in the corner of the basement floor where the outside water is made to accumulate. The pump is placed in this pool of water so it can remove the water when it reaches a certain level. The pump is programmed to turn on and pump the water out of the house to a sewer or a ditch in the back yard. Normal people have either a battery backup for when the power goes out, or they own a generator to use in it’s place for the same reason. We are of course, not being normal people, do not own either a battery back up or a generator. At least once or twice a year we get a foot of clear rain water down the basement. Dick moans and groans how much work it is to clean the basement but never purchases a back up because he thinks the hose which drains the water away from the house is either clogged or too small of a diameter to drain the water quickly. This is his logic.
The next part of the sump pump article is about my Husband, Dick….. and someone elses sump pump. I love him dearly but I have lots of stories about his escapades. Maybe I will write a few more of his stories on my new blog.
One family Christmas in the 1970′s, our family decided to get all dressed up for Christmas dinner, even though it was being served down my Aunt Ann and Uncle Dick’s warm basement. Christmas’ at My Aunt Ann and Uncle Dick’s was a memory I never want to forget. We had it all decorated with red and green crêpe paper on the ceiling and all sorts of Christmas ornaments and family remembrances of days gone by drawn by us when we were children. The good dishes, wine glasses, and center pieces would be on the table. Candles would be lit. My cousin, Michael, would give his 2 Grandmothers’ a corsage every year. The whole house would permeate with smell of the delicious turkey roasting in the oven and we would be anxiously salivating for samples of the skin of the turkey as my Uncle carved beautiful browned bird. His stuffing was wonderful. It was my Grandmother “Maisie’s” recipe made with only onions, celery and chicken broth. Nothing elaborate.
Now dinner was over. I am the photographer of the family. I decided as long was we were dressed so nice we all should gather on the stairs for a group picture. My husband volunteered this time to take the picture so I could be in it. He never took a picture before. We all slowly got on the stairs sitting ever so nicely. Dick had the camera and kept fiddling with it and we were getting very impatient due to eating so much food and jokes were starting about how slow he was. Mind you wine and beer were also flowing by that time too. (not me of course, I usually stick to diet coke). It was taking forever. Finally he put his eye to the eye piece and kept slowly backing up and up and up and you guessed it, down he went into the hole in the floor where the sump pump was. We all gasped! Down he went. He immediately raised himself up with his leg soaking wet. He paused and then looked at us and said: “I fell in the sump pump!” Well after a pause, we all got hysterically laughing and that quote has been said now for over 30 years. He also broke the sump pump.
For those who are not familiar with sump pumps, they are designed to draw water, which accumulates around your home’s foundation to remove any pressure on the cement walls caused by the water raising up from the ground and going up the outside wall. If it is not removed, the walls will collapse inward and may cause costly repair later. The pump is run by electricity. There is a hole in the corner of the basement floor where the outside water is made to accumulate. The pump is placed in this pool of water so it can remove the water when it reaches a certain level. The pump is programmed to turn on and pump the water out of the house to a sewer or a ditch in the back yard. Normal people have either a battery backup for when the power goes out, or they own a generator to use in it’s place for the same reason. We are of course, not being normal people, do not own either a battery back up or a generator. At least once or twice a year we get a foot of clear rain water down the basement. Dick moans and groans how much work it is to clean the basement but never purchases a back up because he thinks the hose which drains the water away from the house is either clogged or too small of a diameter to drain the water quickly. This is his logic.
The next part of the sump pump article is about my Husband, Dick….. and someone elses sump pump. I love him dearly but I have lots of stories about his escapades. Maybe I will write a few more of his stories on my new blog.
One family Christmas in the 1970′s, our family decided to get all dressed up for Christmas dinner, even though it was being served down my Aunt Ann and Uncle Dick’s warm basement. Christmas’ at My Aunt Ann and Uncle Dick’s was a memory I never want to forget. We had it all decorated with red and green crêpe paper on the ceiling and all sorts of Christmas ornaments and family remembrances of days gone by drawn by us when we were children. The good dishes, wine glasses, and center pieces would be on the table. Candles would be lit. My cousin, Michael, would give his 2 Grandmothers’ a corsage every year. The whole house would permeate with smell of the delicious turkey roasting in the oven and we would be anxiously salivating for samples of the skin of the turkey as my Uncle carved beautiful browned bird. His stuffing was wonderful. It was my Grandmother “Maisie’s” recipe made with only onions, celery and chicken broth. Nothing elaborate.
Now dinner was over. I am the photographer of the family. I decided as long was we were dressed so nice we all should gather on the stairs for a group picture. My husband volunteered this time to take the picture so I could be in it. He never took a picture before. We all slowly got on the stairs sitting ever so nicely. Dick had the camera and kept fiddling with it and we were getting very impatient due to eating so much food and jokes were starting about how slow he was. Mind you wine and beer were also flowing by that time too. (not me of course, I usually stick to diet coke). It was taking forever. Finally he put his eye to the eye piece and kept slowly backing up and up and up and you guessed it, down he went into the hole in the floor where the sump pump was. We all gasped! Down he went. He immediately raised himself up with his leg soaking wet. He paused and then looked at us and said: “I fell in the sump pump!” Well after a pause, we all got hysterically laughing and that quote has been said now for over 30 years. He also broke the sump pump.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
My first blog
Since this is my first blog, my little gray cells are in panic mode and running around saying stop! Stop! Are you an idiot? Why are you doing this? Frankly, I don't know why I am. It seems like blogs are a big deal right now and trendy. So here I am on overdrive wondering what would catch your eye to read.
I think of the great and lovely Erma Bombek and wish I could be so lucky to follow in her steps. No such luck, you won't find it here. You also won't find good grammar or punctuation. What you will find is honest thoughts and stories done the best that I can. I figure that there has to be someone who writes worse than I, so here's hoping you will give this blog a chance, and enjoy my writings. Welcome to Kathy's cozy corner! There will be more to come soon.
I think of the great and lovely Erma Bombek and wish I could be so lucky to follow in her steps. No such luck, you won't find it here. You also won't find good grammar or punctuation. What you will find is honest thoughts and stories done the best that I can. I figure that there has to be someone who writes worse than I, so here's hoping you will give this blog a chance, and enjoy my writings. Welcome to Kathy's cozy corner! There will be more to come soon.
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