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Welcome to the BOMB.

The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

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My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Odd Elevator Noises

Slish-slug… Slish-slug… Slish-slug…

I heard odd noises as the elevator doors closed. They were slow ratcheting noises. I do not find odd elevator noises comforting—especially when the doors are closing at the same moment I realize neither my work cell phone nor my private iPhone are with me—they remained on my desk.

The hair on the back of my neck rose up a fraction as I looked around the empty box.  Attempting to reassure myself,  I told myself the odd noises didn’t mean the elevator was experiencing problems—but even if I did get trapped in the elevator, I was on my way to a late lunch,  so I had my book and the remaining half of my third DDP (Diet Dr Pepper) in hand. What more could I want? In fact, without a way for everyone to contact me, it might even be relaxing and peaceful.

Only, I was down to the last five pages of my book. Optimistically, I hoped five pages would be enough to last through lunch. Realistically, I knew they would not last through a protracted solitary confinement.  Of course, behind the remaining five pages, is the preview for another book....but I was loath to start the preview since I didn't have that particular book in my "To Read" stacks.

You didn't think libraries were the only ones with stacks of unread reading material lying around did you? Okay, so my stacks  are not exactly like the stacks at the library, but that's a minor point.

Anyway, the mental image of my stacks reminded me I need to grab two books from my stacks tonight—I also finished my bedtime book last night. 


The elevator doors locked as it prepared for our descent into the basement.  The sound of finality reminded me,  in a day or so, I’ll also finish the audio books I checked out from the library, so I need to check out another half dozen or so.  It was odd I was finishing all my books at once—normally, the end on a staggered time line.  This group evidentially did not get the memo.

Groan. Sigh.  

The elevator sounded tired.  Isn’t this one of the newly replaced elevators? Or was this elevator merely reworked? I feared it was the latter since it was not a main elevator. However, the  marble floors gleamed and the softly muted wall color was relaxing. Perhaps this is the color I should paint my bedroom walls….If I ever get out of here. How long would it be before any one missed me?   My tummy tightened as I realized I could be sealed away from the rest of the world.  Forever.

My minds ear heard Mr. Rogers gently asking, "Can anyone say, 'Melodramatic' boys and girls?"

My nervous titer bounced off the elevator walls.  Squaring my shoulders, I pragmatically reminded myself of the phone in the elevator—a phone I had used before when the elevator actually had gone on strike for a short while. The elevator continued to mosey along at the speed of winter-time molasses.  Even with my bad knees and extra stiffness I thought  I could have made better time hobbling down the two flights of stairs. Maybe not. I guess it could be worse—the elevator could be out of control and plummeting to our final destination. 

Shudder. Clank. Whew.

The elevator rested.  Finally.  It took its time, then gathered it's courage, and ever so slowly it reverse ratcheted its doors open and released me. 

Laughing, I exited the elevator and breathed sigh of relief. I’m not sure, but I think my exhalation rivaled the whew of the elevator. Once again my over active imagination had gotten the best of me—kind of like my over active bladder—which was kicking in right about then.

That's not quite true.  My bladder’s not over active. It’s diuretic enhanced—and it was telling me it had been a while since I had been to the LGR.  Luckily there was one nearby. I darted into the stall, threw my DDP and book onto a shallow ledge, slid the door lock to the closed position, and once again sighed with relief.

Until I remembered the lock on this particular stall sometimes sticks.  In almost ten years, I can count the number of other people I’ve encountered using this bathroom at the same time as I have, on one hand.  I guess I tend to use remote elevators and bathrooms.

Oh well. I still have my half DDP and five pages to while away the time—and an added bonus—now I have a throne on which to sit.

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