Posts Tagged ‘ wine ’

CUPCAKES, CANDY AND RAT MAN.

Friday, February 20th, 2009

Mother and I are having a glass of wine. We’re sitting inside her home at the ratty round table in her dining area. I have just swept off a pile of really old papers, used napkins, envelopes, pencils, dead flowers and dry cat food. Mother removes her dog Becky’s box of dog cookies, “Which she won’t eat,” my mother says. “She just likes to carry the cookies around the house.”

Mom tells me how her fluffy black cat Josie, the one I found abandoned while out walking, is bringing dead field rabbits into her bedroom almost every day and she and Becky the Dog tear them apart and eat them, just outside Mom’s clothes closet.

This is nothing to be concerned about.

I mention that I have just finished baby sitting my six year old granddaughter Lexi for five days.

“We went to Jimbo’s one day; you know the organic grocery store where everything is so high class and so expensive. Lexi saw some cupcakes in the bakery case and desperately wanted one.”

Mom smiles and nods.

“Well, you know her mom doesn’t let her eat sweets, so it’s a special deal when she gets something like that. Lexi keeps pressing her face to the glass case and gazing at those chocolate cupcakes. And begging me to relent and get one for her.”

Mother says, “Oh, I like chocolate.”

“Yes, and so does Lexi. And these cupcakes are swirled and piled really high with bright pink frosting. Lexi’s beside herself with desire, so finally I say, ‘OK, you can have one.’ She then immediately starts twrilling in the isle and spinning with delight. ‘Oh thank you Baba! Oh thank you Baba!'”

Mom nods again and smiles.

“Well, the nice lady behind the counter pulls out the plate of cupcakes and lets Lexi choose the biggest, most gigantic one with the most frosting. The lady puts it in a special see-through plastic box with a shiny red bow tie. Lexi wants to eat the cupcake right away but I insist we pay for it first!”

“So, it takes about twenty minutes to finish shopping and get to the car and the whole time Lexi is gazing fondly at that cake, smiling and laughing and is so excited she’s practically mad with wanting it.”

Mom is still smiling and nodding. She knows there must be some reason why I am drawing out this really mundane, boring story about a cupcake.

“We get in the car and I tell Lexi, ‘OK, you can eat it now,’ and I turn the car onto the freeway. Next thing I know, Lexi lets loose this outraged screech! I am so startled I almost jack the car over the center line. 

“‘What’s wrong, Lexi?!”

Lexi howls. And howls. And howls. She sounds like a wild cat.

“Lexi, I can’t help you, I’m driving! What is it?”

Lexi is choking with sobs. “The frosting tastes bad, Baba! I hate it. I hate it. It’s bad, Baba.”

She shoves the cupcake over my shoulder. I lean down and take a bite.

Oh my gosh. It’s cream cheese frosting. It’s not that wonderful swirled pile of sugar that Lexi thought she was getting. That mound of sugar that she had begged for, the sugar that she rarely gets. She had been so delighted with her good fortune and now thisthis imposter!

My mother is sympathetic as I continue the story. 

“Lexi just keeps sobbing. She can’t get over being deceived by that cupcake.

I tell her things like, ‘Well, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover.’ Which makes no sense to her, so I try and explain, but that’s futile.

And I say ‘Well this is a lesson that everything that looks good or like gold, isn’t always’. And, ‘There are many disappointments in life.’

Lexi isn’t open to Life Lessons right now. None of this preachy talk has any effect on her emotional disappointment and her wrenching sobs so you know what I have to do. I have to eat that damn cupcake because you can’t waste food, especially anything chocolate. And, Lexi sobs loudly for most of the drive home.”

“Did you give her some chocolate ice cream when you got home?” my mother asks.

“No. I gave her a popsicle. An all natural lime popsicle with no sugar.”

Now, my mother looks disappointed.

Then, she brightens up. “You know,” she says, “I had a big bag of peanut candies and I ate a bunch the other day and I got really, really sick. I’ve had diarrhea before but this was different. It was bad. I was terribly ill.”

I suck air. “You ate peanut candy!? Mom, don’t you know that all these people have been getting salmonella from peanut products because of that filthy plant that had to shut down recently? People are dying from peanut products Mother, old people, especially 86 year old people  and you’re eating peanut candy?”

“Yes,” Mom says. “And, the next day I ate some more.  And I got really, really sick again, so than I threw the bag away.”

I put my head down on the table top. I spend a lot of time putting my head down on table tops because of  my family.

“And, how is Rat Man,” I ask, just to change the subject.

Rat Man is what mother calls the pest control man who was hired to rid her house of ants and spiders and other crawlies. (Dead rabbits and squirrels in the house are OK.)

The last time he was here, I was visiting Mom. She casually mentioned to me that she had had no heat or hot water and the gas stove hadn’t worked either, for more than 24 hours!

“Gads! Mother,” I remember whining, “why don’t you mention these things?”

I run outside and get Rat Man.

“Can you help us, please?” I say. “Would you look at Mom’s water heater and see if the pilot light blew out?”

Rat Man is a young guy and quite amiable about helping old ladies, it turns out.

“Sure,” he says. “Where is it?”

I grab Mother and we waffle and whiffle down the porch steps together in a very strong wind.

The water heater, it turns out, is screwed in behind a metal door on the outside of her metal trailer!

Rat Man looks at the door. There must be fifteen tiny screws in that metal door, screwed tight into that metal trailer.

Eeeh gads. Is this a job for Rat Man? He only kills vermin. But, he has his ego and his honor to think of.

He finds a screw driver in his car and begins to turn the screws. It takes a very long time and did I mention that big, icy cold, stiff, raging wind we three are standing in?

Finally, the door is off and oh my gosh, the webs and spiders. Rat Man will need to add some extra squirts of pestie paste in here.

He leans down and into the mess, looking for the pilot light. It’s a hard find. Mother and I are hanging over his shoulders, one on each side.

Rat Mans find the pilot. Rat Man takes a match out of his poket…did I mention that Raging Wind? And valiantly tries to light the son-of-a-b….

He tries and tries. He finds more matches and strikes more matches. He’s getting red in the neck.

Mom has a question for him. She leans even farther over his shoulder and says to me, “Is this the same man that tried to light my pilot light on the stove last year and got blown clear across the kitchen?”

Eeeegh gads! 

“Mother,” I say, “this is not the time…”

Rat Man sounds like he is whimpering.

“Are you the same man,” my mother persists, “that had the gas explode while he was lighting the stove pilot and it blew him across the kitchen and the lady that was with him started screaming and screaming so loud that I could hear her in my bedroom and I’m profoundly deaf, you know.”

I’m dyin.’ I’m laughing so hard I fall to my knees.

Rat Man jumps straight up and steps on me. “I got it lit!” he says. 

Thank you God.

The question is:

Why do I often wobble home from my Mother’s??

 The answer:

Sometimes it’s the wine we drink or the peanut candy we eat and sometimes it’s the things that happen over there.

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GOOD NEWS! My brother, Arthur, is in complete remission from acute leukemia. He will be on chemo pills for two more years. But, no more talk of bone marrow transplants and stem cells and all of that. We are all elated. Thank you for all your prayers and good wishes. X Venus

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*TELE-CLASS FOR MONEY, PROSPERITY AND ABUNDANCE with Venus and Summer McStravick. MARCH 7, 2009   See www.flowdreaming.com for class information and sign up info.

**IN PERSON!!!   A SPECIAL LIVE IN PERSON “RETREAT WEEKEND” WITH VENUS ANDRECHT AND SUMMER MCSTRAVICK.  Sept. 18-20th 2009 at Asilomar, a California State Park on the coastline in Montery County, California.  This was the setting for Dr. Wayne Dyer’s movie, ‘Ambition To Meaning.’  *EARLY BIRD SPECIAL PRICING IF YOU SIGN BY MARCH 7th, 2009.*

See www.flowdreaming.com for the details and sign up. Look for ‘Flowdreaming Retreat Weekend.’

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*Venus pulls 2 names FOR FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSIONS, EACH TIME SHE DOES A LIVE RADIO SHOW. “The Dear Venus Show”, every other Weds, 9AM Pacific/12 Noon Eastern. Offer is valid for a week so you can catch the show on replay.

(Next live radio show is Weds Feb 25th. “Match Maker Make Me A Match.” More real stories from the dating world and Venus talks about her internet dating experience.)

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2 WINNERS OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS:  *Toni-Lynn Beal and *Vaso Williams. Offer valid through Feb 27th, 2009. After that, null and void

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I love to hear from you. If you wish to leave a comment please scroll down to “comments” and click on it.

What Happened At Venus’ Laughing Club Party!

Thursday, February 12th, 2009

 

Everyone's backends. Mom has the white hair. My sister Barbara is in front of the girl in the green t-shirt.

Everyone's backends. Mom has the white hair. My sister Barbara is in front of the girl in the green t-shirt.

My Cousin Laura stands up and says she wants to talk. My Cousin Laura? The ‘quiet’ cousin?

 

This happens after all twenty-five of us ladies have had lots of outstandingly good home-made food and high alcohol percentage wine.

 

My Cousin Laura is in the dark pink shirt and jeans.

My Cousin Laura is in the dark pink shirt and jeans.

 

 

We expected forty people for the party but lots of ladies have suddenly gone down with the Big Flu and they are all livid about missing The Big Event.

My daughter Summer makes each person a name tag as they arrive. They have to identify themselves on the tag. For example, “Betty, Venus’s art friend #1.” “Judy, Venus’ tall friend.” “Nina, I don’t know Venus but I heard about the party.”

The phone rings. It’s Isabel. “Where is your house! I have been driving around for an hour and a half!”

We determine that her husband gave her directions and said I live 6 miles down my road and not the .6 that I put on the invitation. Isabel arrives shortly and she arrives mad. We give her a big glass of red wine.

My Cousin Laura now picks up a big cardboard box and hauls it to the center of what I call My Great Room, which includes the kitchen, sitting room, dining room and living room. 

Laura drops the box on the wooden floor with a thud.

“Well,” she says, “I’m going to show you what my family gets me for Christmas every year. I am very particular and they are afraid of me and my reactions to Christmas presents. They know I like a certain kind of bathrobe. It must have a high collar, and have a belt that is sewn into the back as part of the robe.”

She hauls a light pink robe out of the cardboard box and puts it on, to demonstrate.

“Now, this is my favorite robe and it is just to my specifications. It has the high color, the built in tie and it is the right length and it fits. It’s also the right material.”

Laura turns in a circle to give us the full view. 

“The problem is, it is very old and it’s falling apart. So,” she says, “here is what my husband and two daughters do every year. They try and find me the perfect new robe.”

She leans over and pulls another robe from the box. She puts it on. 

“You see,” she says, “the collar is wrong. It lies flat. And the belt isn’t part of the material. It just won’t do.”

Laura pulls the robe off and hauls another from the box. She puts it on and demonstrates it’s defects. It’s too short, the color is poor and it’s not well made. She throws it back and pulls out another. And another. She puts every robe on that date from at least six or seven Christmases.

“Ah ha,” she finally says, “now look at this one they got me this year. It’s almost right.”

Laura puts on the latest robe. It’s a light pink, it’s the ‘right’ material, the belt is sewn in as part of the robe and the collar stands up around her neck.

“But look!” she says with exasperation. “It hits just below my knees and it zips up from the bottom!”

She zips it up to demonstrate. 

“I hate it!” she says.

Summer shouts, “I’ll take it!”

And another woman hollers, “I bid higher!”

Laura looks at both women with disgust. 

“Watch this,” she says. She starts to walk. The robe is too narrow when it is zipped and she has to take mincing steps like a geisha.

The women roar with laughter.

Laura thrusts all the defective robes back in the box and leaves the ‘stage.’

My sister Candy stands up. “OK, she says, “Venus wants me to tell some Grandma Stories. This is our mother’s mother.” She points to our Mom sitting as close as she can to the center of all of us. She can’t hear much, so she tries to read all our lips.

 

Candy is in pink on the left.

Candy is in pink on the left.

 

 

“I never knew Grandma when she was alright. The entire time I knew her, she was basically out of her mind. She had had many strokes. But she was the sweetest, funniest woman. She was very thin and had long white hair that she kept braided into two long braids and then wrapped over her head. She had a ton of wrinkles because she had lived in the desert most of her life. She was in her 80’s when I was a teenager and she and our grandfather, Lancaster lived on the property with our folks. They had their own little cottage, with a porch, right next door to us.”

Candy pauses and looks at our mother.

“Well, Mom was always saying to my brother Art and me, ‘It’s time for you and Art to go over and check on Grandma and Lancaster.’

“Venus started calling our grandfather Lancaster because they lived in lancaster California when Venus was little.”

“We checked on those two in the morning, late morning, afternoon and evening and in between because you never knew what they might be up to. Grandma thought Lancaster had a girlfriend named Billie Jo! She thought that because she found a nightgown of “Billie Jo’s” hanging in their closet. Of course, it was Grandma’s nightgown! But, one night when we went to check on them she had Lancaster cornered in the closet and she was menacing him with a butcher knife because of his relationship with that woman. So you can see why we had to watch things.”

Everybody gasps.

“So, OK, this one time, Art and I go over to see how the old folks are doing. It’s close to noon and Lancaster is sitting on the porch smoking marijuana and watching the cars drive by on the road. Oh, I guess you want to know why he was smoking grass in his 80’s? Because of my brothers, of course. One Christmas they gave him some. They said it would help relax him, which he needed because he lived with Grandma. You see he didn’t realize she wasn’t alright in the head. He just thought she was difficult. Anyway, so we go over to the cottage and we say, ‘Hi Lancaster, where’s Grandma?’

“He says, ‘Oh leave ‘er alone!’  ‘Well, where is she?’ we say. Lancaster says “She’s fine. leave her be!’

“OK, so Art and I look at each other and take two seats on the porch. Art lights up some grass with Lancaster. About 15 minutes go by. I say, 

‘I think I should go check on Grandma.’ Lancaster gets irate. ‘Leave her be!!’ ‘No, really,’ I say, ‘ I think I better go see what she’s up to.’

Lancaster snorts.

“Lancaster is a great guy. A lovely man. He was a handsome marine when Grandma met him and he’s still handsome, but gnarled up and stiff with arthritis from a bad car accident a few years back. When referring to his condition he always says, ‘I’m all stove up.’ He and Grandma have had a long and love filled relationship that has lasted well into her dementia, but lately, it is becoming just too much for the man to deal with.

“I get up off the chair and go looking for Grandma. 

“She’s not in the house. That’s odd. 

“I walk out the back door and into Lancaster’s tomato patch and a plot of grass.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe it. There’s a lawn chair, one of those long chaise lounge kind of things, the ones strung with plastic ribbon type bands …and Grandma is FOLDED UP IN IT. It has totally collapsed and all I can see are her two little legs sticking out through the top of it, with those black old lady shoes with laces, her legs and shoes pointing to the sky and waving in the air!

“Lancaster must have seen it happen and he chose to let her hang out here while he took a little rest from her, out on the porch, smoking a doobie.”

The group of women go crazy with laughter, especially after Candy assures them that she unfolded Grandma from the chaise lounge and Grandma had just said, “Well, hello my darling,” with a big smile. 

Then Candy launches into the time when she was a teenager, and so easily embarrassed, when she took Grandma for a little drive. She stopped up town at our local gas station, and you have to remember that our town had maybe 3500 people then and we all knew each other.

“I told Grandma I had to go to the phone booth and make a call and...not… to… get… out.. of… the.. car!

 “After a few minutes on the phone I turned around and there was Grandma, out of the car and wandering off to somewhere. I dropped the phone and ran after her yelling, ‘Get back in the car! Get back in the car!’ and she started screaming, ‘She’s kidnapping me! Oh, help! She’s kidnapping me!’ and the young guy that pumped the gas was just looking at me and I shouted at him to never mind her, just never mind!!

“I had to drag the woman back to the car and she kicked her heels into the pavement and yelled and made me drag her by the arms and her big old red coat kept falling off and and it was so humiliating for a teenager to have to do this in front of a young good looking guy!”

“I finally got her in the car and locked all the doors and I said, ‘I am never taking you for a drive, again!’ and Grandma looked at me with love and said sweetly, “Where are we going now my darling?”

Everybody is hysterically at the party. Candy tells a few more Grandma stories but than she has to give the floor to Lu.

Lu is in her 70’s. She has white hair that merges abruptly into red. She’s dressed today in a Charger’s football outfit and looks three times bigger than she really is. She lives down the road from me. She says, “Well, I like to do my chores naked. So, this one time I was riding the tractor, naked. I had just finished digging a long deep trench when what do I see but a service man driving up my road in his big truck. He musta’ seen me naked on the tractor..well, I know he did, because all of a sudden he lost control of the truck and drove it right inta’ the ditch! And he couldn’t get it out.”

We are all screaming with delight at this picture, which encourages Lu.

“Another time, I was building a stone wall, and I was naked of course. I like to do all my chores naked. So, I look behind me and here is my neighbor, a man, coming up the drive in his big truck and by golly…he drove into that same ditch and he couldn’t get his truck out either…you know…that neighbor man never comes over anymore.”

Lu looks very satisfied.

A woman named Sally leans over to me and nods her head toward a woman named Diane. Diane lives way down the road from me. She comes from Europe where she was a journalist at the United Nations. She is a big name in our area now as she works for Good Causes. 

Sally whispers, “Did you know that Diane often goes out and moons the marines when they fly over her house in their helicopters? She doesn’t like them coming over her house way out there in nowhere.”

Another friend says, “What is it with you women on this street? You all go naked so much!” She looks pointedly at me.

“Well,” I say, “that is odd isn’t it? And did you know that there used to be a nudist colony right down the road around the bend? It was here when I was a kid and one day they had a big fire over there and the fire planes dropped pink fire retardant and for weeks you could tell who the nudists were!”

The party keeps going like this. One lady tells an awful story about a dead cat and she is shouted down and sent back to her seat.

Finally, late in the afternoon, we seem to be all worn out. Lots of food, lots of wine and lots of laughter and it’s all been done for our good health, of course.

So, we are exhausted but stunningly healthy and we all go home, stuffed with cookies and lasagna and wine and laughter.

 

Venus' art room, where I broadcast my radio shows.

Venus' art room, where I broadcast my radio shows.

 

 

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Remember this SATURDAY’S TELE-CLASS ON VALENTINE’S DAY. I will be working on your WISHES for LOVE  and will send you MY MOTHER’S LOVE MOJO which packs a heavy punch, and sometimes a surprising one! Summer will put you INTO THE FLOW FOR LOVE. There are a few ‘seats’ left. Please go to  www.flowdreaming.com to read about the class Feb 14th 2009 and how you can join us. 

*March 7th 2009 we have another Flow Tele-Class for Money, Prosperity and All Good Things.

Some of my art.

Some of my art.

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Just a reminder, I do PRIVATE PHONE SESSIONS. I am telepathic, clairsentient, clairaudient and clairvoyant and I am an empath. I also work with with Good Energies, sent to you from what I call the High Beings…Please go to www.godisalwayshappy.com and look under ‘sessions with venus’ to read about what I do and my rates.

*You can also listen to part of a CD on my site, where I transcribe some of what The High Beings have told me. www.godialwayshappy.com

My bedroom.

My bedroom.

****2 WINNERS: *I am now drawing TWO NAMES for free 15 minute sessions, during each Radio Show.  Listen to “Dear Venus”at  Hayhouseradio.com every other Weds 9AM Pacific/12 noon Eastern. The shows are archived and you have one week to find your name  and contact me at

The sitting room in my bedroom.

The sitting room in my bedroom.


****2 MORE WINNERS: *I am now drawing TWO NAMES  from your email addresses, each time I write a blog. The winners this time are:

Sandy Flowers and Anita Mutz. This offer is valid through Feb 18th, 2009. After that, offer is null and void. 

One of my paintings: Blueberry Pie.

One of my paintings: Blueberry Pie.

The Laughing Club Party

Tuesday, January 20th, 2009

Welcome to my Laughing Club Party.

I have decided that we all need a laugh. To that end, here is the note I have sent out to my family and various friends:

“Please come to THE WOMEN’S LAUGHING CLUB PARTY at Venus’ house, Jan 31st, 2009 at 11:30 AM.

“Let’s get together and laugh and laugh and laugh for our GOOD HEALTH and FRIENDSHIP!

“Please bring a dish (potluck) and something to drink. Wine would be nice but you can bring whatever moves you.

THE PLAN: We will eat and drink and whoop it up. For those of you who aren’t shy, please have a STORY in mind; something that has happened in your life or someone else’s life that is really funny! You will tell the tale and we will laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh. We will roll on the floor and laugh some more. We will kick the furniture and spill the wine.

“And, then we will laugh some more for no reason at all.

“This is an all woman party, just to see how it goes. If we like it, let’s have more of them and often, hosted by whoever feels fit enough to host a bunch of crazy acting, loose laughing women!

“Please RSVP by Jan. 27th, so I know how many chairs and plates to set out that may get broken.

“I hope to see you!

Venus”

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Well. I have had a tremendous response. People are calling me and saying, ‘Oh, my friend wants to come, she desperately wants to come, can I bring my friend?’

I say ‘sure. What the hey.’

My brother Art with the leukemia, the one who’s car got smashed and who’s house burned down, says he wants to come, that he needs the laugh. I say “OK, you do need some laughs, but if you come  you have to wear a dress and a lady’s wig. You can be our Honorary Woman.”

My friend Karen in Florida, demanded that I send her the invitation, then called me and said, “I love it! I am already calling people to have a Laughing Club Party at my house!”

Maybe we will have Laughing Club Parties all over the world?? What fun.

I’m going to start my party with this story, which I admit is really juvenile humor, but that’s part of the fun, right?

I’ll be telling the ladies, “Awhile back a friend of mine named Billy came over to see me at my house. He’s about fifty. He called me to come out on the front lawn beside my pool.

“He sidled up next to me, leaned over and whispered, “Got something really funny here. It’s a fart machine.”

“He glanced over at my pool where Paul The Pool Man was busily scooping leaves. He was scooping slowly. He doesn’t like to rush. He’s a big man, maybe in his 60’s with a great ruff of gray beard and flying head hair and he wears faded overalls with a bib.

‘Got an idea,’ Billy said, grinning like a nine year old. ‘This is remote control.’

“He carefully held up some kind of small box and something that looked like a TV clicker.

“Paul had his back to us, scooping the pool and gazing up into the great pine tree, the tree he has come to hate, that hangs over the water.

“‘Watch this,’ Billy whispered.

“He ran over to the grouping of deck chairs just behind Paul, put the fart box under a cushion and skeedaddled back to me.

“‘Hehehehe…watch.’

“Paul The Pool Man bent to scoop some twigs from the water by hand.

“FARRRRRRT…OOOOOHEEEE…PTU!”

“Billy had pushed the remote.

“Paul didn’t blink. He didn’t even look our way.

“Billy and I broke into screeching laughter.

“Paul leaned to the side and put the pool pole down.

“BBAAAARRRPH!”

“Billy and I collapsed with howling glee.

“Actually, I’d hit the grass ‘first fart’ and couldn’t get up. Whenever I laugh, my legs go weak and I collapse wherever I am. I can’t get off the ground until I stop laughing.

Billy and I were choking with laughter, roaring with mirth and silly merriment but again, Paul The Pool Man never even looked our way.

“FAAARRRP! WHEEEEE!”

Every time Paul made an adjustment in his methods, he passed thunderous ‘gas.’

I was screaming with laughter, my nose face down in the dirt and muck, unable to even crawl to my knees. Billy was dragging me by an arm, across the lawn, trying to get me to stand up.

Paul looked skyward.

It went like this until Billy and I finally tired ourselves out, gave up and limped into the house.”

………

Well, OK, maybe it will be funnier when I tell it in person? Maybe I should wait until the general hilarity at the party has taken hold?

My sister, Candy, will be telling some Grandma Stories. These are true tales about my mother’s mother that just rip us to pieces with hysteria whenever she retells them at family parties.She does the voice, she does the mannerisms, she does the body movements of everyone in the stories and we absolutely almost choke ourselves laughing. Candy should be on stage.

I’ve been telling the ladies that are coming to the Laughing Party that if they have pee problems when they laugh that they had better make sure and wear their diaper pants. They have assured me that they will.

“You’re not ruining my furniture,” I tell them.

Gee! I wish YOU could come to my party!

Do you have any funny stories about yourself or your friends that you can tell us? If so, please put them in the ‘comments’ section (below) so we can all laugh together and have our own world-wide Laughing Party!

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*WINNER OF A FREE 15 MINUTE PHONE SESSION WITH VENUS: *Ernest Brenner* Offer valid through Fri. Jan 23rd, 2009, after that null and void.


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