The Revolutionary Costume of the day

 

Big Edie Sold Separately.

If its October its time for the Pumpkin Spicebots!

 

We're all cycling together!

Every year, in October but before Halloween, Cookie drags out this picture and celebrates all that the trendy Pumpkin Spice Nordstrom way of living has brought to the world. 

And is tradition, we bestow the women in this picture with names that mirror the devotion that they bring to choosing their wardrobes, which are still curiously still on trendy in 2022.

So, from left to right we have Madison, Mara, Marlo, Mathe, Mimi, Maree, Marla, Maren, Marr, Mazie (always with a "Z", like Liza), and Mame.  

And it's been so super fun-fun seeing all of them! (Squeals!)

Over cups of green tea and sugar-free cocoa, the conversation drifts between cars (Three of them drive Tesla SUVs, and two have Volvo XC40s ("Because I really think that we need to protect the planet, and they are so trendy!"), two have BMW Hybrids, two have Mercedes Benz SUVs, and one doesn't own a car because she still lives in the city and she can uber wherever "just so long as the uber is an electric that's all I care about."

One has a brother-in-law in Federal Prison because he got involved with something that "I don't want to get into." 

"You don't need to with us.  We're here for you, in this moment! We see you, we hear you."

"Thanks, you guys! I have the best friends."

Another has a sister who is simply "out of my life with all her types of crazy."

Mara is pregnant yet again this year because "It's so easy for me, I LOVE BEING PREGNANT!"  (Squeals!)  She and Anders are having their fifth!  (Squeals!)

Mame just downsized because she wants to travel.  "You know, nothing fancy. "Fiji, the Galapagos, and I'll winter in St. Barts, just to unwind from the other trips." 

"And you should see Mame's new place on Central Park East - it's so functional."

"Well, it's only 4,800 square feet.  That's doable, right?"

"And so cute."

"Super cute."

She has her own pilates studio in the unit. 

"My trainer Arden comes in three days a week for pilates, and then on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I meet with Ravi, who removes negativity from my chi.  We meditate for an hour, and then he anoints me with Tibetan oils as we do vocalization therapies to help clarify my inner voice."

"Ravi is so amazing," adds in Mimi.  "He helped Cooper release all the pent-up negativity through chanting and stretching."

"Coop just takes in so much anger from others. And he is so unselfish with the giveback."

Marla BTW is the daughter of Murial Puce, so you know it's all top-drawer.

So super to see you, girls.  Until next year!  (Squeals!)

The lettuce is the winner! But can Boris be far behind?

 

Cookie seldom comments on the political situation in other countries, but I have been following the ups and mostly downs of Liz Truss, the Prime Minister of England for a scant six weeks.  He high point was meeting with the Queen.  Then there was her presence meeting King Charles, the State Funeral, then the slide really started when she announced a tax decision without any reason plan beyond that.  

In 1980, Ronald Reagan sold the United States on the lie that was then known as Supply Side economics.  It didn't work for us, but in the forty years since the rich have gotten richer and the middle class is barely hanging on by a thread.  Plans like Reagan's, like Truss's' don't work because they fail to take into consideration how they favor the rich, harm the poor, and do nothing about greed. 

I mean, at the beginning of the week the big question was would Truss of Lettuce last longer?  The Lettuce won.  All Hail the Lettuce!

Now comes word that traction is gaining for bringing back Boris Johnson to right the ship.  As of this moment, Boris was sporting a speedo in the Caribbean.  If that doesn't make you shiver, I don't know what will.  For my part, I really hope that the people who make these decisions remember that they defenestrated Boris for a reason and that they don't backslide. 

And what are the parting gifts for Ms. Truss, now the shortest PM in the modern history of England?  She gets a lifetime annual pension of about $127,000.  That's more than Zachary Taylor, the President of the United States of America for a month got when he died of gastritis. 

But all kidding aside, I hope that the Conservatives do the right and proper thing and elect a Prime Minister who is ethical, compassionate, and will work to undo the damage to the economy.  

Seriously, Madonna, Herman Munster Wants His Shoes Back

 This appeared in news outlets today.  What the eff is she wearing? 

The answer? High Fashion Crocs with a Babushka dress, and washed-out pink hair, and that look that old people get when they are asked to guess who is coming to dinner.

Can you hear the Mistress holding her own face in her hands and saying "I can't even."

I can. 

Poor Madge. 

She's been stuck in a horrible loop for years. This outfit says "Such Tsuris."

Once one to keep reinventing herself, she seems stuck in her own cliche. 

Now she looks tired, old, grotesque.  And seen outside without her fishnet fingerless gloves, no less. 

Maybe she had a rough Kabala Style Yom Kippur.   Yeah, I'll go with that. 

Grocery Shopping with Sam and Rose

 

Today we did errands.  The vet, Joe Banks to pick up our suits for the upcoming wedding we are attending, Grocery store one, Grocery store two, and grocery store three. 

Why three? Because you cannot get everything at one store.  Impossible around here.  Not in Ohio, but here in Baltimore, grocery shopping is a multi-store hassle.   I mean in Columbus, it was Giant Eagle or Kroger. For specialty items, we would go to Weiland's, or Carfagna's. 

Here it depends on what we need.  

Some weeks it's Safeway, others Wegman's, and still others, Weis. 

But they are always followed up by runs to Eddie's or Grauls or both.  Eddie's and Graul's each have their charms.  One is good for baked goods, the other for their butcher counter. Both are local "markets" and since we hate Giant (not the same as Giant Eagle, which we love), they are our go-to markets for a quick in and out.

BUT TODAY, my chickens we were shopping at one of these boutique markets when we heard what I thought was someone in pain, and the Husband thought was someone taunting an angry nesting blue jay.  

"SAM? SAM? SAAAAAMMMMMMM! WHERE IN THE HELL ARE YOU?"

And we were never quite on the right aisle to see who (or what) was making that horrible hog-calling noise. 

Sam was on the opposite side of the store bellowing "ROSE! ROSE! ROSE! Damnit ROSE, where in the hell are you?"

It was a demented version of Marco Polo, without the pool. 

And as one went through an arch into the other side of the store, the other would head to the frozen food area, and the whole thing would start anew.

"SAAAAAAAAAMMMM! Where in FUCK ARE YOU?"

"ROSE! ROSE! ROSE! WHERE ARE YOU HIDING?"

Eventually, we checked out, and then we saw a man who was evidently Sam tottering outside toward the parking lot.  

Then the Bickersons moved out into the parking lot.  Where it got louder.

"ROSE! ROSE! ROSE! ROSE! OVER HERE! OVER HERE!"

And out from the store comes this gnome of a woman, wearing what looked like a housecoat, I think, with wrinkly skin, a rats nest of unkempt hair and she is screaming in her raspy six-pack-a-day voice.  SAM? SAM? WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU SAM?"

"ROSE! ROSE! ROSE! OVER HERE! OVER HERE! LOOK OVER HERE, DAMNIT!"

"SAM? I AM NOT A DAMN DOG.  I DON'T GIVE A DAMN WHERE YOU ARE.  YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL FOR LEAVING IN THERE BY MYSELF..."

"LIVING WITH YOU IS HELL!"

And at that moment, she looked at the two of us stunned by this Kabuki Theater of the absurd, and shot me a look that probably cast an evil eye on us.  Those eyes were black as frying pans and mean.  This was a woman that no one crossed. 

Then she really laid into Sam.

"COULD YOU BE ANY MORE USELESS, DAMN IT! THE GROCERY BAGS ARE INSIDE, GO GET THEM...WHERE IN THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING LEAVING THE DAMN CAR LOCKED ON ME."

"CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT YER PIE HOLE?"

"YOU CAN GO STRAIGHT TO HELL SAM!  WILL SOMEONE RUN THAT FUCKER OVER AND END MY MISERABLE MARRIAGE?"

We got into the car. 

My normally stoic handsome husband would just sit there, and I said in a soft voice, "You can go to Hell Sam," and my husband cracked up. 

I mean the two of them had to be in their eighties, and they were carrying on and on.  I'm amazed one of them didn't need oxygen.

"Can you imagine living next door to that?"

"I'd rather live under the flight path to BWI," said I. 

I carefully drove out of the parking lot, avoiding the possibility of coming near them, and on the drive home, along Bellona, up the big hill towards Charles Street, I held my husband's hand and thanked God that our first, and hopefully last encounter with Rose and Sam had come and gone.  

Still, tonight, before dinner, I am taking a pinch of salt and throwing it over my left shoulder just in case that rump-fed runyon put the evil eye on me.