Blended lettuce

We’re facing a moment of truth together: One of you told me to get this jar of powdered, plant-based something-or-other to lower my cholesterol. I have added a scoop to my coffee because said scoop of plant is allegedly flavorless. Let’s see what happens.


Hunh. That really is flavorless. Unless I have the COVID. It’d be just my luck to get me the COVID while I’m waiting for my post-vaccine two weeks to be up.

…Nope. Really is lacking in any flavor.

Do you know what I miss? Are those Lick-M-Aids, with the big vanilla stick, and you put said stick in the bag of colored sugar. Ask me how my diet is going on the Noom.


How is that possible? I’m over here blending lettuce, and don’t tell me it’s from working out with my trainer. I am not paying a trainer to GAIN weight. I am not paying Noom to GAIN weight. This whole thing sticks in my craw.

No, I’m serious. Reese Witherspoon, my personal friend who pops in to visit me in this charming neighborhood, blends two heads of romaine lettuce, a crap-ton of spinach, a pear, an apple, a lemon that she cuts the rind off of, and some protein power or coconut water and drinks that every day and celebrities are nutty why do we make friends with them?

So I got all that stuff and blended it and I can tell you do not add the lemon. I deeply regretted the lemon. But most days this past week I’ve had that damn smoothie. And?

Gained weight.


So, that’s it. I’m just a chubby person now, and no one point out I’ve been a chubby person the whole time you’ve known me. In my MIND I’ve been svelte but temporarily bloated for, like, 25 years.

Anyway, what’s new? I couldn’t write you yesterday because — and by the way, don’t answer “Nothing much” when someone asks you what’s new. Must you be boring? I’ve found any time you press someone on that, something actually is new.

“What’s new?”

“Not much.”

“No, really, what’s happened this week?”

“Well, I’m radioactive.”

Anyway, I couldn’t write you yesterday because I am working on something huge at work and I worked on it all weekend so I could get ahead, and when I came in here and saw my laptop yesterday I didn’t think of it as “place to blog” but more “place to finish work.” Which I won’t, for a week. The thing is due next week. But I want to keep ahead of it and not panic.

…White guy just pulled up across the street, then a Realtor® pulled up and they shook hands. OK, fancy white guy is not interested in living in the formerly condemned house across the street. He’s looking to buy it and rent it to god knows who, or maybe he’ll fix it up and flip it, which I can live with. Living in a transitioning neighborhood is sort of riveting. Seeing who comes in, seeing who goes out.

Since that house across the street went up for sale (“As-is. Copper plumbing was stolen.”), it’s been interesting to see, like, BMWs drive down our usually quiet street. It’s just so jarring.

What was I talking about? …Oh. Nothing.

So, this weekend I mostly worked, but I insisted I take Sunday off, as it was Easter and you all know about my deep religious practice. I toyed with making hard-boiled eggs, but did not. Instead I went to the cemetery, which seems like an Easter tradition with me now.

I didn’t go to Forest’s cemetery, mostly because I didn’t think of it till I got to the other one, but also because I see that one every day. It’s not a special cemetery.

I went to the really good one in the neighborhood Ned and I almost moved into.

Do you remember back when I was actually dating Ned, and we’d been together two years, and he said, “I have to decide if I’m going to sign another year’s lease or move somewhere cheaper.” Do you remember that?

We’d been together TWO YEARS plus, and there he was, thinking he was going to sign for another year in his place. And I said, “You know, we’ve been together two years. Did you ever, you know, consider moving in together?”

I could tell he had not. It had not even dawned on him. I spent much of that relationship being appalled at how differently we looked at things. But I do have to say, whereas he had no thought of moving forward, he has, till this day, remained in love with me, while I’ve waxed and waned in response to the above. So, in a way, he’s been more committed than I ever was.

So, it took him awhile to (brace yourself) decide. Like, a few months, it took. And one snowy night I drove over to his apartment, and we went down to the bar next to his downtown apartment for trivia night, and at one point in that night he just said, “OK. Let’s move in together.”

Oh, I was so happy. I felt like I’d gotten the golden egg or the golden goose or the Little Golden Book or something.

So then we had to look for a place. Please note I said it was a snowy night when he said OK. We moved into our new place on October 1th.


My point is, the first place we looked at was really, really nice. And it is my personal belief that Ned wasn’t really into the whole idea until he saw the place. It was a beautiful old house with window seats and crystal doorknobs, and right down the road was the cemetery above. Also, it was even closer to work than I am now. It was so close to work that if I hadn’t walked to work, it would be shameful.

Anyway (brace yourself), I was sold right away but Ned had to


and we lost it. We lost the house. And we always speak of that house the way I do about the paint color Quietude. Like there’s nothing quite as good.

Anyway, that’s the cemetery I went to.

And that about sums it up, because other than that it’s been trainer and work. Oh, and they condemned the house next door. So now the condemned house across the street is being sold, but we have a brand-new condemned house next door. It’s like Whack-a-Mole. My hope is they get bought, fixed and flipped. And then I will live next to people with, you know, jobs and regular addictions to craft beer rather than anything illegal.

Look, I’ve put in my time. I’ve been generous and understanding and given the people next door ice because they didn’t have running water. I’ve listened and I’ve offered suggestions (but never cash). But after awhile you lose patience. I don’t know how Jesus did it. Didn’t he ever roll his eyes and say, “Oh my Dad, go to NA already”?

No offense to anyone, but I hope me living here doesn’t turn me all Republican.

OK, I gotta go. I have to shower, as I had trainer, did I mention? Oh! Before I go, speaking of narcotics, Iris is on morphine. She had another bad bout of her IBD, and we switched her food and I have to drive her to the vet once a week to give her B12 shots (I had B12 to give her in PILL FORM, and we all know how that went) and in the meantime, she gets liquid morphine to get her through it.

Man, does she like morphine. She’s rubbing her face on chairs, and chirping happily, and she fits right in around here now. So.

I did ask the vet, “Am I being awful, keeping her going?” And he said no. He said no the LAST time. He probably thinks I’m dying to kill Iris, but whenever I hear people being all, “Oh, we give Bosco an IV twice daily, and then once a week we screw off her head and air out her brain,” I am sorry to tell you that I judge. I think, “Give poor Bosco a break.”

So I hope I’m not being that person with Iris. I see times she seems to enjoy her cat life, and she’s GAINED weight since her last bad bout, so. Am I misspelling “bout”? It looks weird.

OK, really going. Hitting the shower. Literally. I’m just gonna go punch it right in the cock.


35 thoughts on “Blended lettuce

  1. This was a classic June post! “Oh my dad”, and so much more. I will never think OMG again. It will always be OMD burned into my brain from now on.


  2. Another masterpiece. Hilarious! Oh my dad! Flomp.
    I hope the condemned houses are going to become homes for wonderful neighbors. Can we hope for another Peg, minus the food poisoning, type neighbor.
    Sweet Iris. I understand not wanting to wait too long, but you don’t want to deny her good days that belong to her.


  3. Lovely post, you’re pretty. I truly did enjoy it and when I saw you posted, rearranged my day so I could eat “with” you.


  4. I see that water retention has been mentioned as a possible cause of said weight gain. That nasty business is my body’s go to reaction to any even slightly salty food that I enjoy. Of course that does not account for the rest of the elebenty-seven-hundred extra pounds I’m lugging around. When you said {sips} I instantly pictured you sitting at your table sipping from a dainty floral coffee cup (with matching saucer), and with your pinkie properly extended. Great post again today. Good luck with the end game for the two condemned houses so near to you.


  5. I look forward to your blog and want to thank you for keeping things in perspective.


  6. Some of these topics are serious and I can’t help that I’m cackling with laughter anyway! You are a great writer. I hope you have a fabulous day and the next time you step on the scale you drop 6 pounds.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. What is new with me. I’m moving again. They closed our office and are sending us to another location. I’ve moved 7 times in the past 10 years. And this is after the military life. So, purging and purging. Then pack pack pack. Tad stressful.


  7. Oh Coot, I always save your blog until I am done reading the distressing news of the day. Like dessert, it’s delightful, an antidote to the lima beans of life.


  8. “We’ll, I’m radioactive.” 💀
    Hilarious post, June! And if you don’t mind me bossing you around, have a good day!

    Liked by 1 person

  9. Loved this post! Why is it that I get irritated when my sister asks me what’s new with you? She already knows everything that’s going on in my boring life? I got the Covid, that’s new, but after a few days it isn’t. Next time I’m telling her I’m radioactive.

    Save some money and read Fast, Feast,Repeat or Delay, Don’t Deny by Gin Stephens. Noom charges you for this information these books teach you.


  10. I don’t peel the lemon. I’m sure that’s the reason why you aren’t svelte like Reese and I. Except neither am I. So don’t read too much into that.

    “Well, I’m radioactive” will be a conversation starter for sure.

    My gosh, you are indeed a pleasure of life. “Hitting the shower”. BAH!


  11. Lovely post, Coot. I’m surprised how many people like going to old cemeteries. I could wander around them for hours just imagining what people’s lives were like. My husband thinks it’s weird. “Oh, my Dad” made spit my tea out.


  12. I was thinking of that maxim: a conservative is a liberal who’s been mugged or that line from The Big Chill. Mary Kay Place (?) is a disillusioned public defender. “I didn’t expect them to be so…guilty.”

    On the weight gain, if you have any soreness in your muscles that likely means there is a temporary fluid build up that will go away in a week or two.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. I am Bosco. Please unscrew my head and air out my brain ASAP. Spring cleaning so to speak.

    I also love cemeteries, and live close to an old, elegant one. Pillars of the community (from the past) live here, along with some very famous politicians. It’s beautiful small lake and the grounds make for a restful visit. The memorial chapel has this stunning mosaic tiled dome. Really is a landmark.


  14. I know what you mean about “Give poor Bosco a break.” From what you say I don’t think Iris is at that point. And I don’t think it means you’re turning Republican if you just want adults to take a little responsibility for themselves. I could rant a little about that but I won’t!


  15. I quit Noom because the food tracking was not as good as my fitness pal ans their articles for on my nerves. Didn’t lose weight either.
    What is that powder you are taking?
    So happy to hear Iris is feeling better.

    Liked by 1 person

  16. Lovely post Coot
    I love visiting cemeteries. I took my husband to one. We drove for 4 miles down a dirt road, then drove another 2 miles on someone’s private property. Climbed a fence and finally found it. My ancestors are buried there. The man who owned the property has kept the cemetery clean and weeded. He is not related in anyway but has done this for years.

    Have a lovely day and I hope MR. BMW buys the house and flips it.


  17. I love that Ned is still in love with you, and rightfully so. I’ve always said that I don’t the man who broke my heart back. Not at all. But I do want him to still want me. It seems only fair.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Be here or be nowhere. You’re the shine on my rainbow, the wax on my car, the sauce on my Alfredo, the cherry on top of my sundae. You are just the one added thing to my life that makes is special.
    I mean that.


  19. For a “not much” weekend, you had a lot going on. Who can take a nothing day and suddenly make it all worthwhile? You, June, are definitely a pleasure of life.


  20. I was mesmerized throughout this whole post. Not sure what it was, other than your writing skills. Not that you asked, but I think you should just keep doing what your doing with Iris. (Ned, too, for that matter.) If she seems happy and healthy, what more could you ask for?


    1. Is this an appropriate time to remind everyone that I was featured in the “Pleasures of Life” section of a magazine once? I AM A FUCKING PLEASURE OF LIFE.

      Liked by 2 people

  21. “No offense to anyone, but I hope me living here doesn’t turn me all Republican.” Ha! As a Republican reading that – mostly dead. Screwing Bosco’s head off – am now dead.

    Lovely post Coot!



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