For several years, I have gotten my car washed at one place: Mermaid Car Wash, on Louisiana Ave, just off 394. Why? Because there is a resident Macaw named Seaweed. She's always kept a keen eye on me, listening to me coo, but always kept her distance. Today, I took my hubby's car in to get it cleaned inside and out as a surprise, thinking I'd get the same discerning eye from Seaweed as I'd gotten in the past.

Nope.

She recognized me. She shuffled along her amazing tree house thing and came right over to me. She offered her left foot up to me, obviously saying, "Come on, pick me up!" The other people in the place were flummoxed! So, without a second thought, I lifted my arm to her and she hopped on, instantly climbing her way up to my shoulder. "I'm a PIRATE!" I said, super confident in her intentions. She chewed on my hair, nibbled on my fingers, fluffed at my words. We were totally getting each other. It was so cool.

Then my sweet husband's car was done, and our moment was over. I love Mermaid Car Wash. I love Seaweed. :-)

Blogging On.

I don’t like the word “diabetes.” It’s the “eez” sound I don’t like. It sounds like rabies or scabies, something vile and potentially itchy. I prefer to say “I’m a diabetic.” That sounds more like a heretic or a skeptic, someone left of center, maybe even intellectual. But let’s face it, it all means the same thing: pancreas failius.

I also don’t like the word “blog.” That sounds like some big piece of wet wood, a ‘bloated log’ or something. Green and slippery with algae. Stinky. Bet let’s face it, I’m starting one.

I won’t be “blogging my ass off.” I’m more of a short, quippy writer, I think. We’ll see. Besides, there’s really no cardio component to this exercise, so more likely I’d be “blogging my ass on.”

So that’s that. I’ve begun.