Ode to a Saltine

Alas, yesterday's reports of my quick recovery were greatly exaggerated. It's true that the nausea was gone, but thinking I was back to 100% was wishful thinking. I'm very good at convincing myself of stuff, one side of me the consummate liar with the other when drastic measures are called for. But not this time. By dark, I felt as tired as if I'd run a marathon. I went to bed early (for me). Actually sleeping, however, was pretty much out of the question. I guess that would have been asking too much of the powers that be. The husband fixed spaghetti for dinner. When he cooks, it hurts his feelings if I don't eat it, so ... I ate it. I knew his sauce was going to be too spicy, but I ate it anyway. And it kept me getting up for Alka Seltzer about every 1.5 hours. On my last Alka Seltzer run at about 3:00 A.M., I was so tired that I nearly fell asleep standing in the bathroom waiting for the tablets to dissolve. Then I picked up the cup to drink it and promptly dropped it, drenching myself. While I waited for a new dose to dissolve, I changed my sopping nightgown and wiped up the bathroom floor. Thankfully, I went down for the count after that and managed to sleep 'til 8:30. My stomach's still bothering me a little today and I'm dragging a bit. I'm eating nothing but Saltines. Saltines have some sort of magical medicinal properties. I don't know whether they sop up the acid, counteract it, or quite what they do. They always work when nothing else does, though. Now that I think about it, I ate them by the box when I was pregnant to ward off both morning sickness and heartburn. Fortunately, they taste pretty good and, oddly enough, I don't even want anything else today. So far. Hopefully, this will all be gone tomorrow.

I'm thinking of running away and becoming a foster child. It would be good if Johnny Depp and Patrick Dempsey could share custody of me. What do you suppose my chances are?


My stepdaughter produced her second son Thursday. Isn't he a doll? She's asked me before what her children should call me. She says I don't look much like anybody's grandma. I didn't bribe her to say it, either. I told her that I'm not vain in that way and that the babies can call me whatever they choose. So far, it's not a problem. Her first child is only twenty months old and says something that sounds sort of like "Ga!" when he sees me. I'm not so sure that's a compliment.

An item in the paper this morning made me forget my acidic stomach and laugh out loud. There was a guy on trial for attempted murder in Farmville, Virginia, for shooting a police officer in the leg. A mistrial was declared when the defense lawyer said he couldn't continue his closing statement because he had lost his train of thought. The judge also suggested that the attorney seek medical help.

Here's today's roster of Words Gone Wild begging for interpretation. Judge Twisted Linguistics gave it a try, but second opinions are always welcome. Brief it and give it your best shot.


look in the mirrow - What you will look like tomorrow.

shawdows - Reflections that are draped so you can't really tell what they are.

descriped - Yanking away someone's meds.

peaked my interest - This can describe anything from tented pants to someone fascinated by mountain climbing.

grammer errors - Oh, duh. Do you think?!

quandry - A perplexing quarry, or maybe an uncertain query.


Southern Writer sent me this to play with. I had a lot of fun with it and I think you will, too.

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