Wednesday, July 29, 2015

Fireworks Number EIGHT!!!!!!!!

For my final FIREWORK, I wanted to share with y'all the pictures I have hanging in our playroom:


These precious signs are from the Etsy shop: Between You and Me Signs. (If you'll remember, they also made the LOVELY sign sitting on my mantle.) These signs are the words to Bob Dylan's song, "Forever Young." Have y'all ever read the words? They make me cry! I think of my Sweet Little Leighton each time I look at these amazing works of art. The words are truly everything I wish for her. I think these signs are positively perfect for a playroom. (Also--"Forever Young" just so happens to be the theme song of my all time favourite show: Parenthood. The best show on television. Ever. Period. It ended far too soon.)

I'm so proud of these signs! (I would love to show y'all the rest of the playroom, but, alas, it is a work in progress. I'll show pictures some day...)

Happy Wednesday, Friends!

May God bless and keep you always...

Monday, July 27, 2015

Disclaimer! Fireworks Numero Deux...

Well, as my luck would have it, the first show of the second season of Donnie Loves Jenny was not what I’d hoped it would be. Especially since I highly recommended it to y’all as my second “Fireworks!!” Sigh. This reminds me of something that happened about 36 years ago:

My Sweet Hubby (MSH) and I were in New Orleans for a convention. We’d just been married a little over a year. I was 25 and MSH was 35. Babies. We were invited to dinner with some VERY fancy—I mean FANCY—peeps. Three other couples. MSH knew the husbands of two of the couples (these four were both in their early to mid-60s—the other couple MSH did not know was in their mid to late 40s). MSH warned me that the two men he knew had “…more money than God.” The dinner was at a snobby/snotty/hoity-toity 5-Star restaurant. We were both quite nervous and, on the way to meet them, while we were in our cab, I remember MSH and I wishing we could back out. Seriously. Get out of the cab...go to a payphone (no cells!), call the restaurant and ask them to say we’d become ill.

It actually went quite well. (Or so we naively thought.) They were all six tres nice. Classy. Kind. Asked us a lot of questions about ourselves. Shared a lot of innerstin’ facts about themselves and their families. The rocks on all three of the women’s hands? Their bracelets and necklaces? OH. MY. STARS. I’d never seen such jewelry—up close and personal—in my life.

We were there almost three hours! As the evening was winding down—around 10:00 p.m.—one of the elegant/loaded (money-wise—not alcohol-wise) ladies asked MSH and me what we were going to do. Go to a party? Go to our hotel bar? We said: No. Actually, we’re going to hurry back to our room to watch Saturday Night Live!

Let’s remember this, Friends: In l979, we had no video recorders. No DVRs. When you watched a favourite television show, you watched it then and there—at the time and on the channel (We had about ten total channels, maybe…) it came on. With all of the commercials. Of course, commercials allowed us to go to the powder room, get a snack, throw some clothes into the dryer. Etc. We could get a heckuvalot accomplished in two to three minutes...trust me. None of the three couples had ever seen Saturday Night Live. What? Seriously? We couldn’t believe it.

ELC to Our Hostesses/Hosts aka the Bazillionaires:
Oh, you must watch it sometime! It’s sooo funny! The comedians are hysterical. They have guest celebrity hosts and highlight current events hilariously. It’s marvelous! All six of them said that was what they’d do when they got back to their hotel. Watch Saturday Night Live!

MSH and I were quite proud of our little na├»ve, country selves! We thought we were a BIG HIT with these “old money” peeps.

We raced to our hotel room, donning our jammies right on time for SNL. Within twenty minutes, we were completely/totally mortified/humiliated. That particular night, every single word out of the cast’s mouths, every skit, every second of this show was HORRIBLE. Gross. Shocking. Mean-spirited. We couldn’t believe what we’d done—told these lovely women and men to watch this sick show. We wanted to call their rooms—except we didn’t know where they were, exactly—and say: TURN IT OFF. TURN SNL OFF. Please! We made a mistake! We promise we’re nice people who do NOT approve of this inappropriate nonsense.

We never saw any of them again. Literally. Never. Ever. Anywhere. Coincidence? I don’t know. I can’t answer that. What I can say is this:

(1) We didn’t stop watching SNL—but we were very careful about who we recommended it to!; and

(2)  I thought I’d learned to be careful about promoting “edge-y” shows/movies/books.

Donnie Loves Jenny. Sheesh. I’m going to stick with it—for the time-being. However, I’ll completely understand if you watched it and wondered what in the world I was thinking. TLC asked me that very thing the day after she watched this season’s first show. She alleges she's quite done. Thank you very much. (Yes. This is the Chick who watches the Real Housewives' Insanity. Is she kidding me?)

ELC's (defensive) reply to TLC:
I don’t know, TLC, what I was thinking. What came over me. I should have known better. Maybe. The four or five shows I saw from last season? Clever and cute. Yes—some bleeped language. Still, IMHO, a good reality show.

Apparently—My Bad.

(Unless you liked it—then MY GOOD! Winky.Wink.)

ta-ta for now, Sillies…

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Fireworks Number 7!!!!!!!

We LOVE pretty teeth! Okay. Okay. TLC and My Sweet Hubby—MSH—would allege I’m the one who is slightly obsessed with pretty teeth.

Growing up, I wanted braces. My parents couldn’t afford them. Luckily, eventually, my teeth mostly straightened up. Sadly, I have too much gum. I could have that taken care of now—with laser treatment. It sounds a teensy bit scary and slightly costly. Therefore, overall, I’d say my teeth/gums/mouth are fine. I mean, let’s face it: I’m in my 60s. Wrinkly-ish. Chubby-ish. Ain’t nobody gonna ask me to be on the cover of Vogue.

TLC had an “appliance” when she was five years old. Then she wore braces two different times—from nine to eleven years old and then again from fifteen to seventeen. She has my mouth and teeth! Did y’all know a child has one of her, or his, parents’ mouths/teeth? It’s true. TLC has mine. After all the years of wearing those stylish wires? Her smile looks exactly like mine. Me thinks MSH and I could have saved some big bucks—if only TLC had been a teensy-bit patient.

A couple of years after I went through chemo treatments for breast cancer, I convinced our family dentist (We absolutely adored him…sadly, he passed away about ten years ago at a too young age.) to let me “bleach” my teeth. I accused the poison/chemicals of making my pearlies yellow. I guess I should own up to the possibility it was the eight years of smoking I engaged in prior to getting pregnant with TLC. (I quit on June 14, 1983 and have never had another cig since—YIPPEE ME!) And/or red wine. I don’t indulge in red wine—or really any liquor—much any more. When I do allow myself a glass of wine—approximately every four to six weeks—I’m a Pinot Grigio Gal.

I’ve only done the bleaching-tray process once. TLC and My Sweet Hubby haven’t done it at all—ever. Now you can have whitening done by a laser or something fancy, right? None of us have looked into that. We all have used, two to three times in the past several years, the little “white strips” you can buy over-the-counter. For the cost? They’re not bad. Then, I find if I use a whitening toothpaste at least once a day and a whitening rinse, also, once a day, I can keep my teeth fairly dazzlin’.

Here’s a new toothpaste I’m currently testing:


I saw Alison Sweeney (formerly of Days of Our Lives and the long-time host of The Biggest Loser—I think she ROCKS) advertise this. When I finished my previous tube (A Crest whitening paste) last Friday, I started on this one. I like that it says it’s “Enamel Strengthening,” I can’t actually report whether or not my teeth look more sparkly—not yet, anyway. I can tell y’all I don’t mind the taste of this—or the texture. Kind of gritty—from the baking soda. Grit is good!

(If I run into a Hollywood-like agent somewhere in the next few weeks—who wants to sign me right up for some magazine, television or movie work—I’m going to bet it’s because of this toothpaste. Wink. Wink.)

Try it out! Let me know what you think if you do…

ta-ta for now, Sweet Peas…

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Fireworks No. 6!!!!!!

If y’all haven’t figure it out by now, I’m a simple person. What you see is pretty much what you get.  I don’t know a soul who would ever call me “fancy.” Now, TLC? Her Funny Hubby (HFH) will ask Little Leighton (LL): What is Mommy? LL will say: “Fancy.” It’s a joke he makes because TLC (1) likes nice things and (2) is pretty much a perfectionist. Oh, okay. She admits it: She’s OCD. About cleanliness. Organization. Etc. And "nice" things.

TLC has a degree in Fashion Merchandising. It seems it would only follow that she adores lovely purses, shoes, clothes. Nordstrom is her most favourite store. Y’all know this. Does she shop there often? Especially since the birth of LL? Not as much as she’d like. She also treasures a great bargain/sale. Slightly expensive purses, shoes, and clothes? They go on her Wish List and sometimes…SOMETIMES…she receives one of them as a birthday or Christmas gift. Although we don’t always agree on clothes, we’re usually simpatico about shoes (hers—not mine—I could pretty much care less about owning lots o’ stunning shoes—comfort is my requirement...) purses and home furnishings. I’m proud to say she does have excellent taste. Must be her “Royal” heritage—wink. Wink.

Target would be TLC’s next favourite store—actually, it could now be tied with Nordstrom. Third? Bath and Body Works. (My Sweet Hubby calls this store: Soap and More. He's a hoot.) Our daughter MUST have their soaps. For her inventory in her pantry. She requires backups for backups. Naturally, she only buys them when B&BW is running their specials: 5 bottles for $15. Something like that. She stocks up.

Then there’s Her Mama—Moi—ELC. Never one to want to pay a lot for anything—cars, clothes, trips, makeup, shoes, purses, furniture, etc., I’m content with washing my face each night with Dove or Safeguard (Safeguard in the Summer—when my skin is oily/sweaty/icky—sorry for that mental picture. Please be assured I went to a wonderful dermatologist for years that approved of these cleansers—cross my heart.). I buy my face creams from the drug store. Then decide they’re too much trouble to actually apply to my face and (turkey) neck—especially when I’m beyond pooped at night. Hand soap? At my kitchen and/or bathroom sinks? I’m good with dishwashing soap and the said Dove and Safeguard.

To sum up: I’m frugal (or cheap, if you prefer) and mostly unconcerned about the general appearance of my hands and face that are both full of wrinkles/dry skin/brown spots/sagginess.  

HOWEVER…TLC convinced me—many years ago—to have “nice” hand soap dispensers in all bathrooms and at the kitchen sink—when we have “Company.” She purchases these for me when she’s picking hers up. Thank you, TLC. Thank you very much, Sweet Pea.

Off and on, over the course of my life, I’ve also received some lovely “pump” soaps as gifts. About four years ago, at Thanksgiving, one of our daughters-in-law brought me some Williams-Sonoma Winter Forest.” I immediately began a routine of pulling it out from under the cabinet in our guest room bath and generously sharing it with all from November through the end of February. This past November? I decided I was worth using Winter Forest at my bathroom sink. I used it often. And, yet, look at what’s left! A month ago, I was still using it when I decided I deserved to have a more Summer-y soap.



One recent afternoon, while MSH and I were roaming around Ft. Worth—doing lots o’ errands—and while I was exchanging some capris I’d ordered from Talbot’s—I sent MSH over to the Williams-Sonoma store (which he loves to visit—seriously loves...) to check out the soaps they had that would be more seasonal appropriate.

These were my instructions to MSH as he dropped me off:

If a bottle costs more than $15? I don’t want it. If all they have is something more suitable for the kitchen sink? I don’t want it. If they’re having a special/sale? Text me. (After over 38 years with me? He’s used to these kinds of instructions. I say them nicely—don’t worry.)

Within a few minutes, I had a text from him with a picture of the Rosemary Mint bottle of soap. He said it was $12. YIPPEE! Higher than B&BW, yes. But I know this bottle will last me for a year or two—maybe more. Then MSH inquired if I would want the “free” plastic pump or a prettier one that was $3. Uh, was he kidding? You can guess (and see) what my answer was, right?

Now I’m not only a fan of Bath and Body Works’ soaps, but also of Williams-Sonoma soaps. They have “essential oils,” don’tchaknow. Essential oils are all the rage around these here parts. I feel certain I could wash my hands every 20 minutes, all day long, and they’d be soft. Combining this soap with my “Working Hands” cream? That’s what I’m talkin’ about, Dearest Darlings!

Be fancy! Be wise! If you’ve never tried a bottle of Williams-Sonoma soap? Do it. I’m confident you’ll be pleased.

Smooches and Hugs...