I was so amused at the comments about big 1980s big hair on my story about the abundant flower border…
that I thought I would treat you to a laugh in lieu of flower photos today.
In 1983, I somehow got the notion that a big mop of curly hair would be attractive on me. It took a vast quantity of chemicals to make my fine, straight hair do this:
I look like my hair is on fire. As I recall, it took me nearly an hour to get ready in the morning, what with all the products and blow drying and all. And my biggest fear was wind. My afro did not do well in wind.
Still, I suppose it is better than when I was 11 years old:
This may come as a surprise to you, but I was not the most popular girl in my class.
That’s my baby brother Dale on the left. He’s a big boy now. My mom had her own fashion issues, what with the fake hair and polyester dress. My dad looked fetching in his shiny double breasted suit, pink shirt and yellow tie though, don’t you think? That’s my brother Chris in the back on the right. He’s a nice guy, but has fashion issues of his own. And we all have that crazy-eyed stare. What was that about?
So what about you? I have bared all. Where are your ’80s big hair photos? Let me know if you post so I can share them with the world. I give you until July 15–if you dare.
Robin
My gift of a straight jacket for my crazy brother may not be as gross as his poo gifts, but I think it’s appropriate. He has a high stress computer job and also tends to be a bit, well, eccentric, if not outright crazy sometimes. What better gift than a straight jacket?
My card suggested this new straight jacket would be great for the days when he needs a jacket at work.
By the way, that’s his handsome son, Blake, in the background. He has another (a twin) named Hunter. (Actually, that looks like Hunter to me now. Pick one.)
I hope you had a great holiday. I have been at the Isle of Palms off the coast of Charleston, South Carolina. We were blessed with unseasonably warm weather, so I walked on the beach about two hours each day.
I ‘ve been working on New Year goals. I am not one of those who poopoos the idea of goal setting (like my poopoo brother). In fact I find this such an invigorating time of year. I’ll be sharing my goal setting strategy shortly. Whoohoo!
Robin
Since I believe my brother Dale has a poo fetish, I should have seen it coming.
I posted a while back about the crazy Christmas gifts my little brother, Dale, and I exchange. Each year we take an extraordinary amount of time scheming thinking of the most iinsulting considerate and gross thoughtful gifts we can present to each other.
Well, with the oncoming rush of relatives, ourl little family of three had our own private Christmas dinner a gift exchange this past weekend. Of course, I opened my bro’s gift with considerable dread anticipation.
As I said, I should have seen it coming. I mean, in the past Dale has sent me such things as links to some blog where a fellow was posting a daily photo of, yes, his, well, poo and photos of luxury toilets. And just this past Thanksgiving he happily gave me the “Monthly Poo” calendar–a beautifully produced calendar of dog poo in various stages of decomposition and posed in beautiful, scenic locations.
Well, as you can probably guess by now, this year’s gift had a poo theme. Here were the gifts, all beautifully packaged.
First, there was the reindeer pooper.
This was actually sorta cute. The little reindeer dispenses tan and brown jellybeans. I will be sure to use it next time the garden club ladies come calling.
There was also a can of Poop Freeze. This actually seems to have a practical purpose. Apparently you just “frost and toss.” The spray freezes the offending poop to -62 degrees F. The can label is very encouraging: “Poop Happens–Just Freeze It!” and “Because It’s Your Dootie!”
I particularly liked the Nope, It’s Soap poo soap. It would be too too predicable to use it when Dale and his lovely wife come to visit. I’ll have to store this for just the right occasion–like when the garden club ladies come calling.
There was also the highly educational book, What’s Your Poo Telling You? I won’t go into all the details because I don’t want to ruin it for you when you go out to get your very own copy. But I will tell you the names of some of the chapter titles: “Floaters vs. Sinkers,” “Number Three,” “Soft Serve,” “Pebble Poo” and, my favorite, “The-Honeymoon’s-Over Poo.”
Finally, he found this lovely letter writing paper made from recycled elephant poo. Well, you just know what I’m using to write the thank you note for THIS gift, right? The garden club ladies!!!
I like to think that my gift to Dale was a bit more intellectual. Sadly, I can’t share WHAT that is right now because I don’t want to let the cat out of the bag, so to speak. But I am hoping that my sister-in-law will be sure and take a nice picture of Dale with the gift.
I’ll be sure to share.
Happy holidays!
–Robin (Bumblebee)
P.S.
I have a brand new Bumblebee Blog design that I’ll be launching sometime in January (fingers crossed). In the meanime, this is a temporary new design that I couldn’t resist. It’s a new template from SquareSpace. Do you like it?
Robin
