Gray or Brown

Some women age gracefully. Not me. I kick and scream all the way to the Miss Clairol bottle.

 Lately, though, I've been contemplating letting my hair go gray. I figure I've earned these silver locks after years of shoveling horse pucky and worrying about the national debt. Plus, I'm tired of coloring my hair every six weeks. It cuts into my wine and cheese time.

On the other hand my previously natural brown hair makes me look younger. Hm-m-m, there's that vanity word; "younger". I may have answered my own question. But I need your help.

Dear Horse Pucky readers, should I cover the gray or not? You have two days to answer before I do something drastic...like shave my head.

A Very Short Christmas Story

At least a million people watched as the giant Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center was lit this evening. "Oohs" and "ahs" were audible as onlookers were mesmerized by the bright colored lights illuminating the cold, dark, autumn evening in New York city.

It's an historic evening full of brilliance, joy, and anticipation for the upcoming holiday season. It's a time for love. It's a time for miracles. It's a time for peace. But not for everyone.

Something happened tonight that has never happened before. One person knelt down, with hands folded as in prayer, then three people were kneeling, then 50 people. Before too long everyone was kneeling, looking up at the giant Christmas tree and singing Christmas carols. But not everyone.

Five men were left standing, each wearing black ski masks, each carrying an AK 47. Terrorists. They were sent to do a job. But not really.

Caught up in the Spirit of Christmas before them, they each dropped their rifles and removed their masks. One had tears in his eyes. He turned to the others and said, السلام على جميع الرجال which is Arabic for "Peace to all men."

Horse Pucky Advice: Smelly Sprouts

Dear Horse Pucky,

During Thanksgiving dinner, a family memeber made a crude comment about the Brussel sprouts that were being served, saying they smelled like the bottom of someone's dirty feet and then laughed uproariously. I love Brussel sprouts and  thought they smelled deliciously aromatic. The sprouts were lightly coated with butter, balsamic vinegar, and olive oil, then sprinkled with fresh dried herbs from the garden. They were prepared perfectly and tasted wonderful.  

My question is: What do you say to someone who is so rude and crude at the Thanksgiving table, without upsetting the rest of the family?

~A Brussel Sprout Lover

Dear BSL,

While streaming, Brussel sprouts can be a  bit...uh...stinky. However, the final prep on those baby cabbages is worth waiting for as you dig in and enjoy a tantalizing taste treat.

As for the crude comment, perhaps you should have asked, "When was the last time you smelled the bottom of someone's dirty feet?" A sharp kick under the table, along with your retort, would get your point across quickly.

~Horse Pucky

Take the Time

Take the time to look around you.

We all have things we don't like to do. Some of us have physical challenges, some have mental issues to deal with both in ourselves and in others. In spite of all the gray, sometimes dark moments in our lives, we all have a great deal to be thankful for. 

Again, look around you. HAPPY THANKSGIVING. ~The Horse Pucky Queen

Yippee!

"Signed, Sealed and Delivered". What a fitting song for a great president! I am so happy and excited Barrack Obama won this election. He's real.

Thank you for the superb job you've done the last four years, Mr. President. I know you'll have my back the next four.

Yippee for two reasons:

1. OBAMA WINS A SECOND TERM! The Senate has 51 Democratic seats to win the senate majority.

2. I don't have to listen to any more negative ads on the boob tube.

Just one more thing, Mr. President; I think Natasha and Malia should have a horse. Equestrian sports are a positive experience for young women. I agree with your "not another dog", but a horse would be nice.

Rhetorical Horse Pucky

If I hear one more negative campaign ad I'll SCREAM! How about some ideas as to how we're going to solve national issues, local problems, and global warfare instead of slamming political opponents?

I have a few ideas of my own:

NO MORE TAXES of any kind on anything. Also included in the "no more taxes of any kind on anything" are no more property assessments that far exceed the true value of our homes.

Think about how much money we'd save as well as money we'd have to spend on goods. The auto industry would perk up, the housing market would be revived, retail businesses would see a profit for a change, and I could put money in the bank instead of pay the government for stuff I don't want, need, or use including all this expensive campaigning.

No local taxes:

1. People can pay to send their children to school. Maybe they'd appreciate it if they had to pay for it.  Kids could work part time to help their parents regardless of child's age. It'd get the little rug rats away from the TV and the computer for awhile and get them some much needed exercise.

2. Individual home owners could hire private contractors to plow our roads and highways, creating more jobs instead of using the local towns and state D.O.T. to do it. You know the state D.O.T. Those guys who make $65/hour standing in the middle of the road holding a sign that reads "SLOW". Do I really need to pay state and local taxes so these guys can get paid to hold up a sign telling me I need to go slow when a three lane road is reduced to one lane? Puhleeeeze! At least have the courtesy to entertain me while I'm waiting for my turn to drive forward. Perhaps a little song and dance while holding the sign would be enjoyable.

National issues:

There wouldn't be any issues if we stopped paying taxes. No more politicians to pay. No more rhetorical horse pucky. No one telling me how much I owe the government on April 15th, no one telling me how to live my life, and no big perks for government officials from big business.

Global warfare:

There would be no warfare. I'd host a national "come-on-over" for dinner day once a month. All the nations would be represented... BYOB and a dish to pass. Think of all the great food and drink we'd enjoy. We could have camel rides, pony rides, and a pinata filled with candy for the kids. Maybe even a belly dancer or two for you gentlemen. I need to work out a location. Maybe somewhere in Adirondack State Park.

No more rhetorical horse pucky! Give me some positive, fun ideas.

Little Piggy

Those NFL players who kick around that "little piggy" look like a bunch of wrestlers-gone-bad out there on the field since the substitute refs have replaced the on-strike "zebras". 

I'll admit I don't know a whole lot about the rules and regulations of football, but I think can don a black and white stripe shirt and make better calls than the substitutes calling the games now; especially the game last night between the Seahawks and the Packers.  

As for the players, they're still making their individual millions even if there is a bad call or a lost game, so I don't feel too sorry for them. One of my big concerns is the rate of injuries and how  serious they've been.

Let's get with the program, guys. You know how to play football without trying to kill your opponent. Do you really need a referee to tell you that?! The zebras should be there to make those close line calls, not break up brawls.

So far what I've seen are are teams of neanderthals kicking around a little piggy, while the zebras are running around in their stripes not paying any attention to vicious uncalled hits. I tell you it's a zoo gone mad.

Time to get out the golf clubs or go on a trail ride.. The weather's great! 

Peppers

Peppers

Normally I don't plug restaurants I've been to, but this time is an exception. The reason for the exception: It's tough to find an eatery that serves great home cooking at reasonable prices in and around Rochester, NY or anywhere for that matter.

Peppers Deli and Pastas on 101 East Lake Road in Canandaigua, NY is one of those finds that are worth mentioning. My good pal, Carla, and I celebrated her birthday at Peppers two weeks ago. She had a chicken pot pie that was loaded with tender white meat of chicken, vegetables, and topped with a delectable crust. I had the Italian trio special which consisted of three cheese-stuffed jumbo shells, chicken parmesan, and eggplant parmesan. It makes my mouth salivate just thinking about it.

The chef and owner, Darren Canova, came to our table to personally introduce himself and to be sure we enjoyed his cusine, proudly explaining that everything is made from scratch. Our server, John, was excellent. He was very attentive without being overly solicitous. Carla's and my dinner came with a salad. I ordered a house Merlot. The total for both dinners was $33 and change; a real bargain for the excellent preparation and amount of food we got.

For any of you who decide to go boating, fishing, or swimming in Canandaigua Lake or are just passing through this beautiful area, be sure to stop in at Peppers on East Lake Road. It's a positive taste experience you'll never forget.

Oh yes, Peppers is a 45-minute drive from Rochester for me. I'd drive 60 minutes to go back there for dinner. It was that good.

The Draconian GOP

After watching and really listening to both parties during their respective conventions, then reading several essays by Pulitzer prize winning authors along with articles by the Center on Budget and Policy Priorities, Analysis Center, Washington Post, and the New York Times, I've come away with the knowledge that the Republican party is draconian.

I honestly tried to be objective in order to make an intelligent decision about the 2012 presidential election. After hours of reading, viewing, and pondering I came to a decision. For me there is no contest. I'll be voting for Barrack Obama...again. Why? Because my life is a lot better since Barrack took office and I'll bet the farm that it'll get worse if Romney/Ryan are in the oval office. 

There are so many issues I could write about in this blog post as to why I'm voting Democrat, it would take pages and pages of health care propaganda facts, budget facts, social issues, women's rights issues, and retirement concerns, to name a few.

My biggest concern is for the disabled, our most vulnerable members of society. Currently Jon's son, Gregory is 49 years old and has advanced stage cerebral palsy. He's been in a wheel chair 95% of his live with no use of his lower limbs. He's unable to talk, walk, or go to the bathroom on his own. He is totally dependent on staff members in his residence home to bath him, toilet him, and feed him. Who pays for this? Our tax dollars in the form of medicaid and social security for Greg. And I don't mind my tax dollars going for the truly disadvantaged in our society.

Romney/Ryan said if they are elected the first thing they will do is sign a bill scrapping medicaid and social security. What about people like Greg and others like him? What's going to happen to them? Who's going to pay for their daily, 24/7 care and services they need?

It's time for people in this world to look at the whole picture, not just their own situation. Gregory had no control over the hand that was dealt him. This is the vulnerable segment of society that needs us and that is why I'm voting for a humanitarian President, not a draconian candidate.

Just call me The Horse Pucky Queen.

 

Hitchin' A Ride

International Space Station

As I looked up in the western sky last night, my heart started to race. I couldn't believe what I saw. There it was, so low in the sky, I could almost hitch a ride. The ISS was beaming with red white and blue lights. It was an impressive object moving across the nightime sky among the stars and planets, but never to be outdone by the moon. 

The International Space Station was at it's lowest point of orbit in the upstate NY skyscape last evening. I was fascinated. After looking up some info on wikipedia, I discovered that the space station is divided into two sections; the Russian orbital section and the United States orbital section and is shared by many nations.

The ISS serves as a microgravity and space environment research lab where crew members conduct experiments in biology, human biology, physics, astronomy, meterology, and other fields.

My conclusion after reading about the ISS and it's possiblities:

1. The only way to get along is to go up in space and live in separate areas of a moving aircraft.
2. Get first-hand weather info by observing it yourself.
3. Learn to play golf in a non-gravity environment.
4. Conduct plant biology experiments using 100% pure, cured horse pucky.
5. Last, but not least, moon all your friends on earth.

I'm volunteering for the next ISS orbit. If the moon shines extra bright one night, it's me.

Jon Terrific

Jon Terrific

Remember Tom Terrific? Well, meet Jon Terrific. For those of you who don't remember the former, Tom Terrific ran in a series of five- minute cartoons created specifically for the Captain Kangaroo show from 1957 - 1959.

Tom Terrific was drawn in simple cartoon style featuring a boy hero who lived in a treehouse and could transform himself into anything he wanted to thanks to his magic funnel-shaped thinking cap, which also enhanced his intelligence.

Enter Jon Terrific. There is a remarkable similarity to the original TT character.  Jon doesn't live in a treehouse, but he has a house nestled in the trees. When he wears his funnel-shaped hat, he magically turns into a pro golfer. Just this morning, Jon's intelligence was evident when he agreed with me regarding my political views, which doesn't happen very often. And he's my hero...and a really really good sport.

This is no horse pucky. The funnel hat really works. So, ladies, if you want the man in your life to create magic for you or at least make you laugh, be sure you put a funnel cap on his head.

Telltale Bubbles

Some days I can get away with everything, other days I can get away with some things, but most days I can't get away with anything. 

Last weekend I was swimming in the middle of Seneca Lake, surrounded by family and friends when all of a sudden the only thing surrounding me were thousands of bubbles. Everyone pointed my way, laughed, and left the premises, which is not an easy task when you're in the middle of a long, deep lake. In fact, Seneca Lake is the longest, deepest Finger Lake in upstate NY. It is 38 miles long, and 838 feet deep with a mean depth of 291 feet.

There you have it. Nothing is sacred, even in 300 feet of water. Those telltale bubbles have made me the laughing stock of the family for years to come. I'll never hear the end of it. My new nickname is...BUBBLES.

Manure Tour

This morning, as I was taking Silver out of the pasture to ride, her pasture mate, Sadie, cleverally snuck around Silver and pushed her way through the gate. Sadie galloped footloose and fancy free for at least 15 minutes. She ran through the barn, out the open door, and jumped over the manure pile kicking horse pucky in every direction. That little horse can jump.

I started thinking, something I try not to do too often, as I'm trying to conserve brain cells in my senior years. Anyway, as I was watching all that horse pucky flying in 100 directions all at once, I thought about the political campaigning going on and the national and local horses asses that run for office.

At least Sadie was having fun, not hurting anyone, and eventually came back to me after her scenic tour of the farm, which didn't cost taxpayers anything.

Think about our politicians. They spend millions on campaigns, then make a career out of bilking the American people with their travel junkets, lavish retirement plans and benefit packages. Doesn't matter if  they do a poor job, a mediocre job, or even a just a good job. They all retire at 100% salary plus full benefits. Who do you think pays for that?

From now on I think I'll start calling the political campaign trail, the manure tour.

The Yellow Balloon

On July 2nd, when I looked out my bedroom window, I saw a yellow balloon in my flower garden.
There was no ribbon or string attached to it; just a plain yellow balloon nestled among the multi- colored blooms.

When I went to get my camera to come back for a picture, the balloon was gone.

My Dad's favorite color was yellow. My Dad loved to garden. My Dad would have been 100 years old on July 2nd.

Fender Skirts

Rear wheel detachable fender skirt
on a 1969 Buick Electra 225*

I took a trip down memory lane this weekend because of an email a friend of my vintage sent me. As a result of the email, I began thinking about cars my parents used to own. Does anyone, besides me, remember what a fender skirt is or what they look like?

A fender skirt was used both aesthetically and aerodynamically to enhance the looks and performance of automobiles as early as 1928, but I wasn't born yet. However, I do remember the fifties and sixties when fender skirts were the vogue for car owners.

Fender skirts were often paired with whitewall tires with the length of the skirt changing over time, sort of like female fashions. Before 1950 it was the norm to have all but the very bottom of the tire covered. By the 1960s the "skirts" only covered the top part of the tire. Reminds me of the mini skirts we used to wear.

The last car produced with fender skirts was the 1999-2006 Honda Insight, although the "skirts" are still available for new cars as an aftermarket accessory.

Now that you've had a mini history lesson on fender skirts, I'll have to tell you about my running board story in a not-too-distant future blog post. 

*Picture and history compliments of Wikipedia.  Memories are original.

Empty Box Equals Shrinking Pants

Empty Cookie Box

The blogging community is made up of an interesting, eclectic group of waggish individuals. Itsme is one such delightful person. She had a "Cookies for Captions" contest on her blog "ItsMeCissy", which turned out to be loads of fun. Her blog post is titled Scary Picture...and it is. Check it out.

 Because ItsMe has a generous heart, she sent cookies to all of us who submitted a caption. There were at least two people who wrote more than one caption to be sure they got a box of cookies, but I'm not telling who.

Three of the delectable cookie creations were (yes, were...they're all gone) cranberry-white chocolate-coconut cookies, chocolate chip-walnut cookies, and oatmeal-cinnamon-raisin cookies. Boy, were they ever good! Thanks, ItsMe. You are a super baker!

There's only one major problem. The cookies made my pants shrink. Now I feel like a blivet. For those of you who are too young to know what a blivet is; it's a WW II term which means trying to stuff 10 pounds of horse pucky into a five pound bag. 

Thanks anyway, ItsMe, the cookies were delicious. When is the next contest?

Horse Hair in Your Underwear

My new business is called Itch This, or IT for short. It's become quite popular.

The premise for the business is "payback" to husbands who are unkind and just plain disrespectful to their wives. Here's how it works: I get a call from the wife who is a victim of rudeness. The teary-eyed spouse then puts her husband's underwear in a plastic bag and delivers the bag to my house. My task is to launder the undergarments (boxers, briefs, tee shirts) in a special washing machine designed for dirty, hairy, horse blankets.

Everything (underwear and horse blankets) are washed together, then dried, folded and put into clean garment bags. It's a win-win situation. My horse blankets get cleaned, and the dispirited wife gets retribution along with a few good horse laughs.

The only one who has a problem is the boorish husband who can't figure out why he keeps itching uncontrollably all day.

Is Customer Service Dead?

This is how I felt yesterday.

What in the name of all that is holy has happened to customer service? Yesterday I called a doctor's office to get a fax number so I could send medical records to them. The person on the other end of the phone was a total idiot. Here's how the conversion went:

Other person (idiot): " Dr. XYZ's office." 

Me (Horse Pucky Queen aka Grambo): "Hi, I'm Pam Beers and I need a fax numnber so I can send medical records over to Dr. XYZ."

Other person: "I'm the office manager. The receptionist is off today and she is the one who gives out that information. She'll be back tomorrow."

Me: "You've got to be kidding! Do you mean to tell me you can't give me the fax number because it's not your job!"

Other person: "That's right. You'll have to call back tomorrow."

Me: "That's the most ridiculous, idiotic, horse pucky thing I've ever heard. Let me put it another way, give me the fax number now, or I'll be sure you never work for any doctor ever again."

Other person: The fax number is .....

Me: "Thank you and have a nice day."

I really think customer service is dead. 

A Different Kind of Mouse

Buzi Found a Mouse

Buzi has created a special place in my heart. I 'll always miss Bear because he was one of kind, but Buzi is one of those sweet little girl felines that make your heart melt whenever you look at her face.

Boo has decided she likes being an indoor cat, unlike Bear who was a mighty outdoor hunter of all things furry, feathered, scaly, and otherwise.

Yesterday Buzi became pesky while I was working on the computer. It was a busy writing day and office day, but she doesn't understand "busy; she just wanted to play. I told her, in jest, to go find a mouse. And she did, on the other computer.

It's a different kind of mouse. She's a different kind of cat. It was a cute photo op I couldn't resist. 

The Mushroom House

Mushroom House

One of Horse Pucky's readers, lightly, suggested that Randy, a Horse Pucky fan, build a cave. Lightly's comment was in response to a blog post on Randy's blog, Moody's Notebook titled, "The Next Big Idea". See Moody's Notebook under My Favorite Blogs to the right.

As a result of lightly's response, I became inspired to write a blog post about fancy caves. The fancy cave is the mushroom house in Perinton, NY. The house was built in 1971 by architect James H. Johnson. (Any relation, Randy?) The idea was to combine art with nature for the owners. I've been fascinated with this house ever since it was built because it's so unique in its architectural concept.  

The whimsical  house has five interconnected pods, which include three bedtooms, three baths, and a great room built on the side of a hill for a total of 4,168 square feet. It overlooks  a creek, waterfall and an outdoor hot tub. Last year the mushroom house was for sale for $1,100,000.

This puts a whole new meaning into cave dwelling.

It's also the perfect residence for those of us who are fed a lot of horse pucky and kept in the dark...like a mushroom. 

Horse Pucky Advice: Like It, Lump It, or Trim It

Dear Horse Pucky,

My husband and I live in a gaited community in Florida. We have a swimming pool in the back yard with a stone wall on either side of the pool for privacy. Our neighbor has a flowering tree with branches that hang over our stone wall. The damn tree drops flower blossoms into the pool and all over our patio, making a huge mess. 

We've asked the neighbor to cut his tree down and he refuses, saying the tree was there long before we were and we can like it or lump it. We reported him to the homeowners association and they said to settle the situation with our neighbor ourselves.

Maybe we'll sneak over there at night and put Roundup around the tree in hopes it'll die. What is the appropriate way of handling this maddening situation?

~Treed Off


Dear Treed,

What do you have against trees? Forget the Roundup!

Personally, I think flower blossoms in the pool are romantic. I'd go buy some floating candles, put them in the pool with the flower blossoms, and have a romantic tryst in the pool, with my husband, when the sun goes down. Don't forget the champagne. 

OR, you could invite your neighbors over for a pool cleaning party. OR, you could agree to trim the flowering branches that hang over the wall on your side of the patio. In any case, communicate softly and carry a bottle of bubbly with you when you start neighborly conversation.

~Horse Pucky



  

April 10th Birthday and Chickens

The chickens laid multi-colored eggs this morning and no one knows who did it.

It could be Gertrude, could be Maud, could be Lola too.

Or did I start to celebrate April 10th a little bit too soon?  

Is that egg really yellow with a purple stripe,

and the other one pink and blue?

All I know is the champagne tastes good;

and the chickens think so too,

which is probably why the eggs they laid

are yellow, pink and blue. 

Greetings from Buzi and Me

Buzi and I would like to wish all of you a very happy and blessed Easter. Have a beautiful day. ~The Horse Pucky Queen

Gardens, Toddlers, and Horse Pucky

What in the hell is wrong with parents today? I 've gotta tell ya, some people take the cake.

Last year I won the garden contest in my neighborhood, so this year I plan on doing another bang up job with my gardening talents. I may not win, but I already have some sprouts, plants, and other perennials poking their heads through the soil. I plan on putting on a good show with additional annuals I want to plant the end of the month.

Enter two toddlers who like looking at Buzi (the cat) when whe suns herself in the window. Rather than staying on the sidewalk where toddlers belong, they tramp through my flower garden to get a closer view at Boo. What irks me are the parents who are standing right there allowing the rug rats to trample my perennials, crushing the delicate buds to smithereens.

After expressing my dissatisfaction to the numb skull parents, one of the parent's comment was, "But she only wants to get a closer look at the cat."  And I said, "So, have her look at the cat from the sidewalk." Trample. Trample.

Here's my plan. Tomorrow, when I'm at the barn, I'm going to bring home a bucket of fresh horse pucky and spread it in the garden. Let's see the little ba#%&$#% (darlings) walk through that and then go into their house on the nice white rug.  Mommy and Daddy will love it.   

Happy Spring!

 

Chocolate Shoes

Chocolate Shoes

There is a favorite spot where I shop on Pattonwood Drive, near Lake Ontario, called Encore Chocolates. My family members always request a box of home made chocolates for their birthdays from Encore.

Multitudinous selections of tasty, scrumptious home made, hand dipped chocolate with all the various fillings and toppings is mind boggling. Encore's lovely gift wrapping makes this a very special gift.

I was in the store one day and wondered why someone left their shoe on the counter, only to discover the shoe was made of chocolate.

The store owner told me a true story. A wealthy, eccentric gentleman comes into the store every two weeks and orders a dozen chocolate shoes. He gives the shoes as gifts to women he's either never met or sees occasionally; women who are bank tellers, waitresses, even women he meets on the street. His comment is, "It makes me feel good to see women smile in surprise when I give them their chocolate shoe,"

I'd be a little skeptical if it happened to me, until I saw the Encore Chocolates of Rochester label stuck to the cellophane wrap with a pretty ribbon attached. Plus I'm a soft-touch for good home made chocolate.

 My question is: If this guy stopped you on the street offering you a chocolate shoe. What would you do?

Stickers Suck

Snacking is one of my favorite sports. I try to be cognizant of eating nutritious snacks, so I have a bowl of fruit handy with apples and bananas. What I want to know is who puts those @#$? stickers on the fruit? It's not just one apple or one banana, it's all of them.

 I think whoever does this has some major psychosis going on. It's a global plot to turn us all into raving lunatics. There are some serious practical problems with this.

If you don't have long fingernails, you're doomed to eat the stickers along with the fruit. Have you ever tried just peeling off the sticker? Of course it doesn't come right off. By the time you're finished with your annoying sticker removal, you've gouged a hole in your apple or bruised you banana (no pun intended guys). I tell you it's a real pain in the posterior.

That's why I like my chocolate Teddy Grahams. No muss. No fuss. No sucky stickers.

Leap Year Age

I was thinking, 'If I was born on February 29th, and didn't take the other non-leap-years into consideration, I'd be 17 years old.' That's kinda' cool. I'd be young for a very long time, except that I wouldn't be able to drink a glass of my favorite Merlot for another four years in this state, and that wouldn't be cool.

In celebration of Leap Year, I got into the bag of dark chocolate mint truffles and had a wine glass full of Merlot this afternoon. This morning I drove out to the barn, rode my horses, took a hot shower when I got home, and  put on some "sweet smell". I feel like I'm 17.

For you mathematicians, if you do some figuring you'll find out how old I really am. If you don't feel like doing the math, or care how old I am, that's okay. Happy Leap Year, happy trails, have fun, and have a glass of Merlot on me.

Washington, H.P.

At breakfast this morning, Jon and I were discussing why Washington, D.C. is called "D.C." ( the District of Columbia). The Washington part is easy. It's named after our first President, George Washington. For me, the "D.C." part was too far back into the recceses of my brain to remember much about it.

 It's been a while since high school history class. So...I googled it. And this is what I found out: While George W. was rowing down the Potomac with his band of merry men, they all decided to get out some wacky tobacco from Columbia. They got so stoned, they decided to make Washington the capital of the United States of America without making it a state.

In 1791, after smoking seven boatloads of pot (wacky tobacco), our forefathers dedcided to call the land surrounding Virginia and Maryland, Washington, D.C., which comprises the Potomac River and other tributaries including the Amazon. That's the the real story. And I'm stickin' to it.

With all the shenanigans going on with our politicians, we need to call our legislatures and have them put a law into practice changing Washington, D.C. to Washington, H.P.  We all know what "H.P." stands for.

P.S. I got a D in history.

Meet Buzi



Buzi

Meet Buzi (pronounced BOOjee). Buzi is the Polish word for "kiss". She's the newest addition to my family. I call her "Boo" for short.

Webster Veterinary Clinic (WVC) called me and and said that Buzi's previous owners abandoned her. They left her outside because they no longer wanted her. She had no food or water and lived under a porch for six months.

When neighbors discoverd her this winter, they fed her and gave her some shelter on their open porch, but she needed a warm, safe place to call home. The neighbors already had three cats who weren't very nice to Buzi, so they called a friend of theirs who happens to be a vet tech at WVC.

As soon as I got the call from the vet tech, I came and picked up Buzi from the clinic. She was vetted and declared healthy with all the appropriate shots and tests.

She's totally the opposite of Bear, who I had to euthanize six months ago. He was such a guy cat. She is such a princess. I'm very happy to have another cat. Bear will always and forever be missed. I truly believe he was instrumental, while living on the other side of the rainbow, in this cat being placed with me.

Look at her sweet face. How could anyone abandon her?! If I knew where they lived I'd dump a truckload of raw horse pucky in their driveway.

Buzi is as sweet as she looks and is very happy in her new home. She sleeps on a bed and not under a porch. She has unlimited amounts of food, fresh water. and most importantly she is loved. The princess has a forever home with me. 

Funky Socks

Funky Socks

It makes me happy to wear funky socks. Family and friends, who know this, buy me all sorts of socks for Christmas, birthdays, and for no other reason than to know it's my most favorite gift to receive. Socks have so many fun colors, patterns, and textures. With the new materials on the market, you can't go wrong with a cuddly pair of socks on your feet. Honestly, I'd rather get a frolicking-good-time pair of socks than a new Mercedes Benz.

Socks reflect the mood I'm in when I wear them, so there's no fooling anyone when people check out my feet to see the type of foot covering I'm sporting on any given day. Stay out of my way when I wear black socks!

I love those funky socks. My frame of mind is light-hearted 'cause I have a pair of the purple and blue striped ones on as I compose this post. Then again, it's Friday and I'm really looking forward to the weekend...socks or no socks.

Horse Pucky Advice: Less is Best

Dear Horse Pucky,

A good friend of mine is very attractive. She has natural beauty without need of any makeup. The problem? She LOVES to wear makeup and always overdoes the eyeliner, making her look like Rocky Raccoon. Should I tell her she looks like Rocky or just keep my mouth shut? 

~Shut My Mouth

Dear SMM,

If she's a good friend, tell her in a nice way she looks much prettier without all the eyeliner. If she gets persnickety about the whole thing, buy her a pair of furry ear muffs to go along with the Rocky Raccoon look.

~Horse Pucky 

Horse Laugh

Our GOP candidates are definitely good for a horse laugh or two. Take Mitt Romney. He thinks, '$347K annually isn't very much money.' This is what he earns yearly as a public speaker on the side. How can he possibly relate to the general population he's supposed to be representing? It's actually funny.

Then there's old "Newtie". He's been reprimanded by the House of Representatives for ethics violations and was forced to resign his post from the House by members of his own party. 

Newt's on marriage number three to Callista, who is 23 years his junior. With her plastic hair and other bodily alterations, which include a nose job, face lift, and botox, I'd say they're both right up there with the Who's Who of Pretense.

It's all too much for the Horse Pucky Queen. What happened to morals, ethics, and values? In case you're wondering, I'm not voting for any of these guys. Why? Because the GOP is nothing more than a horse laugh most of the time, and a pile of horse pucky all of the time.   

Wanted: For Pond Abandonment

Bob Crane

If you see this guy let me know. He's the creator of Cranelegs Pond and he's wanted for reckless abandonment.

It's a bad idea to rile the Horse Pucky Queen, Robert, so I'm sending out an a.p.b. for you. 

Y'all know how to get in touch with me.

We miss you, Bobby.

Holy Smoke

Our church secretary, Vicki, called me today and asked if I was having a good day. Vicki never calls me, especially to ask if I'm having a good day. 'This is not a good sign,' I thought with an uneasy feeling, but I remained calm.  "As a matter of fact, I'm having a wonderful day," I said very chipper-like. "How about you?" "Well," Vicki said, "I have something to tell you." This was beginning to sound more ominous by the minute.

As the bereavement group minister at our church, I meet with a group of folks, once a month, who are trying to heal from their loss. At the last two meetings our group decided to dim the lights in the conference room and light candles in memory of their loved ones. We discovered that the candlelight meetings are more relaxing, peaceful, and spiritually uplifting. There was only one problem.

When the parish bookeeper came into the church office the following the morning she smelled smoke in the conference room. I forgot to blow out one of the candles, which was left burning all night. All I could  say was, "Thank God the church didn't burn down! Oh yeah, and I'm really sorry, Vicki." To which she replied, "From now on no more candles. We are further advised to lock up all matches, scissors, or any pointy objects when you are around." To which I replied, "Are you sure your bookeeper didn't smell sulphur this morning?"

Tight Ends

NY Giants vs. Atlanta Falcons on January 8, 2012

Football is not one of my favorite sports, but I try to feign interest to keep peace with Jon. I must admit there are some pretty exciting moments when games go into overtime, but I have a confession to make. It's those tight ends parading around out there on the field who I enjoy watching.

Guys, if the real truth be known, the only reason your wives, and/or girlfriends watch football with you is because of those tight ends. Or is that one of positions they play?  Football players I mean.

With camera in hand, I decided to take a picture of a tight end, bending over, so I could share with my other female friends. As luck would have it, I got a bigger-than-life picture of #77's gut instead. It serves me right for lewd behavior while the game was being played. Plus I got scolded for standing in front the wide screen TV. Apparantly I got in the way of a major play.

Tight ends or not, I can't wait until golf season starts. 

Horse Pucky Shirts for Christmas

Jon wearing his HP shirt.

It wasn't my idea, honest. Three people ordered seven  Horse Pucky shirts to be embroidered and gift wrapped by Christmas. Jon is the proud recipient of one of the shirts, which he wanted for Christmas. What do you get a guy who has everything? A Horse Pucky shirt!

At least you get an idea of what the HP shirts look like when someone is wearing one.

The Granger Homestead Carriage Committee ordered a shirt to put in their horse-themed gift basket this year. It's the first time the basket of goodies received a $200 bid. The proceeds are used to preserve the historic Homestead in Canandaigua, NY. I'd like to think the HP shirt had something to do with the generous bid, especially since everyone thought it was hysterical.

Believe me, the shirts get lots of attention and loads of laughs. It's a fun and unique gift.

Of course, it helps to have a handsome man modeling the HP designer apparel. Jon can't wait to go mall walking to see how many women will notice his Horse Pucky shirt. I may have created a monster.

Times Square and Beyond

Lady GaGa

Normally on New Year's Eve I'm asleep on the sofa by 11:00 P.M., but this year I decided to stay up past midnight to watch the ball drop and check out the the musical entertainment in NYC. I've never had the opportunity to watch Lady GaGa and her crew perform, so I figured it might be fun. Well, I was wrong. I'm not sure if I'm getting too old for this sort of thing, but this is NOT entertainment; it's noise. As for the "Lady", she looked like an overgrown, black widow spider on a caffeine high with assorted spider mates flailing around beside her.

 Then there's Dick Clark. At age 82, I admire him for being in bustling, noisy Times Square in the first place, especially after a stroke. However, I think he may have been better off retiring to the sofa with a glass of bubbly, staying warm by the fireplace, and leaving all the noise and hoopla to the under-age drunks in New York city.

What is especially noteworthy is the contrast between the two entertainers, Lady GaGa and Dick Clark. While I'm chuckling at the dichotomy between the two characters, they're both laughing all the way to the bank, but for different reasons.

I really think the key to being prosperous in 2012 is to have a gimmick like the "Lady"and Dick. Everyone needs a gimmick; something beyond Time Square. Think about what you really want to do and who you really want to become in 2012, and then go for it. I'm going to continue my journey as The Horse Pucky Queen. I'm having fun with that, without a clue as to where it will take me.

I can assure you there will be no Lady Horse Pucky for me. Why? Because it's good to be queen.

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!