why are we here?

Not why are we here...on earth, but rather why are we here at On a Chicken Wing and a Prayer in the blogosphere?  I can't answer for you.  I need to answer for myself.

I'm trying to 'step-up' my bloggy skills, so I'm asking myself deep, angst-evoking questions about blogging.  I know why I'm here in that I like communicating, I enjoy other people's blogs, and I have a story to tell.  The $64,000 question, the one that makes my head spin and my mouth spew forth pea soup like the girl in the Exorcist is this one:

WHAT IS YOUR BLOG'S NICHE?  Hell, I barely know what a neeesh is.  Why is it always easier to describe what you are NOT as opposed to what you ARE.  For example:

This is not a mommy blog....although I answer to 'Mom'.
This is not a photography blog....although I like to take pictures.  I'm a NOOO-VIS..that means beginner.
This is not a techie blog....although I sometimes write about my cell phone, my adventures in shaving and my Keurig.
This is not, REPEAT NOT a menopause blog....my stat page says one of the popular Google searches for this blog is 'chicken wing hot flashes'.  I googled it....guess what comes up?  Dear reader....kindly accept my deepest heartfelt apologies.  I TRY not to whine, but sometimes.....oh, you know.
It's not an animal blog.  It's not a horse blog.  Chicken Wing is not a dog blog, a hog blog, a grog blog or a frog blog

oooops...busted.  By the by, I took this photo...you likey?
Maybe I do compose ditties about frogs (you won't believe my upcoming frog post!) but it's only the most cutting-edge, cool, fashion-forward frog stuff.

So, I'll keep working on my NEEESH and my About page.  News flash to me.....the About page is supposed to be interesting and catchy?.....can interestingness be increased by changing font colors??  We'll see.

Maybe my NEEESH has something to do with humor.  A satirical martini with just a splash of spirituality?  And fun.  Fowl tales and cock and bull stories?  And dogs....a wienee martini?

We'll figure it out together.  Thanks for stopping by, whatever your reason.  You enrich my life.  No joke.

Fashion-forward frog love to all.

natal day update

Fun celebrations of natal days this weekend.  Saturday night we ate out with friends to celebrate the Texan's birthday.  Yes...his bday is the day before mine.  Makes me realize all the astrological, zoodiacal stuff is pure whooey.  The Texan and I are BOTH Libras??  There's no end to the joke "I wasn't born yesterday, you know.  Why....yes I was!"  That phrase is the Texan's fave.

My Sunday natal day started with a surprise gift......a KINDLE!  The Texan really outdid himself this year.  Wow.  I'm gobsmacked.  What a great present.

Then to church.  Lunch with Grandma at the retirement center.  Took a little stroll with the Sprouts around the retirement home pond.  We were marvelling at the CRR-AY-ZEE leaping, chirping frogs.  As we walked around the pond, the frogs would let out a loud chirp just before they plunged into the water.  It amused me to no end, those chirping frogs.  Tallyho.....plop!  I'd never seen anything like it.

Then home, where the wiener dog had a nice birthday surprise for me.

All together now......AWWWWWWW.  A very thoughtful wiener-dog moment.  She breathlessly informed me she had a Chuckie Cheese pizza party planned for me and the Texan.  She was a little bummed when I told her the Sprouts were taking us to Saltgrass for dinner and they don't accept dachshunds at Saltgrass.  She looks stricken, doesn't she?  Don't worry...a rousing game of tennis ball and she had forgotten all about it!

Some things I know on my birthday:

1.  I am blessed

2.  My Sprouts are great.

3.  I need to make a sling for my face.  Why has my face gotten so lazy?  I always find it hanging around my jawline.

4.  Doxies are huge party-planners.

5.  I'm hanging black muslin over my mirror.

6.  I want to get better.

7.  Thank you God, for hormones.

8.  I want people to see less of me and more of Him.

9.  The Texan can still surprise me.

10.  Yup.  I'm blessed

Leaping frog love to all this week.

fair play: rides!

The ultimate fair post.  Aren't you ecstatic?  Are you sure your stomach is empty....NO giant dill pickles, please!  You've taken your dramamine and secured your valuables.....let's rock n roll.

One moment you are relaxing on a giant couch with a few sticky, sweaty friends.  The next moment finds you hurled into the air on a giant sofa-moving arm.  Nobody gave you the remote control.

I thought I left the Texan at home, but I had a strange feeling of glimpsing him on the Midway.  Funny.

Next stomach-emptier....the Zipper.  This ride involves being strapped in a cage.  You won't get down til it's your turn, no matter how much screaming!

Ready to scale the highest mountain range in the world?  Climb Mount Everest and K2?  Have your oxygen ready.  Be alert, you might spot the rare snow leopard.

I can't shake the sensation that the Texan is somewhere nearby.  Maybe I should call him.

Finally, my FAVORITE fair photo.  The quality isn't the greatest...it was a challenge to catch the fast, dark action.  Wish it was better, BUT

How GREAT is this?  You must study each and every child's face.  They tell a story and they are each magnificent.....if I do say so myself.  This capture puts a silly grin on my face.

Are you more likely to hold onto the safety bar in this ride of life, or are you the gal with her hands up?  Either way is fine.....as long as you're happy and enjoying yourself.

Thanks for reading my series on the Fair this week.  Never done a series before.  Let's all take a break. Hope your weekend is full of thrills, bright lights and fun.  Hands-up love to all!

fair play: bite this!

Fair food....a gunblast of aromas.  Enjoy, my friends!

I discern a food theme, I think.  Monster burgers?

Giant corndogs?

Are you seeing it?  What is it?

You know your fair-food themes, don'tcha?

My advice:  skedaddle from any food labeled giant or monster.  I had an encounter with a monster lemonade.  Seemed innocent and healthy enough at the time.  The colorful plastic container was so heavy, I rented a stroller to proudly wheel the acidy beverage around the fairgrounds.  Upon finishing said lemon beverage, my stomach rapidly expanded to somewhere north of my eyeballs.  I sprouted gills and swam the backstroke around the midway.  Knocked down several innocents on my next 5 urgent bathroom stops.  ooops.

Remember....don't eat monster or giant unless you are willing to suffer the digestive consequences!

Tomorrow we wrap up our trip to the fair.  We'll be exploring the rides!  Take your dramamine! 

we interrupt

We interrupt our regularly scheduled programming to bring you the following video:

fair play: horses!

My reason for attending the colorful New Mexico State Fair? Horses!!

No, nooooo alfalfa breath-not carousel horses!!  I mean I took two American Quarter Horses to the fair.  (Did you spot the little angel in the photo above?  No extra charge.)

I took a tall horse and I took a short horse.  The tall horse is part Thoroughbred, hence he is tall and lanky.  We refer to Quarter Horses crossed with Thoroughbreds as Appendixed Quarter Horses.  These horses excel in racing, jumping, and English flat events.

The big horse's barn name is....wait for it....wait for it...... Big Guy.  Clever, huh?  He shows in English flat (no jumping) classes.  I ride Big Guy sometimes for fun.  I don't show him-my trainer has the honors.  Tumbling out of a ridiculously flat strip of leather known as 'English saddle' from vertigo-inducing heights is not for me.  I've matured.

I prefer the sparkly clothes and the security of a bulky Western saddle.  The little horse shows in a class called Western Pleasure.  The horses are s..l...o.....w.....as molasses.  Riding them should look effortless and they should display flawless movement and excellent temperaments.  I received a 2nd place ribbon riding my little Western Horse.  Fun times!

Shhhhhh!  Big Guy is taking a nap.  Horse showing is hard work.

The Quarter Horse Association has implemented a new division especially for exhibitors who are aged 50 and over.  It is euphemistically known as Amateur Select.  Sounds special, doesn't it?  Indeed we are special, and it has rekindled the competitive fire in many an oldster.  We take our kid's old show horses and have at each other in the show ring.  Love it.

But, are you pondering what I'm pondering??.....should there be yet another division?  For even OLDER competitors?  The following sight made me think this would be an excellent idea.  An idea whose time has come.

What should be the name of this new classification of horse show exhibitor?  My vote would be the Amateur Depends division.

You have a better idea?

fair play: questions

Hello fellow Chicken Wingers.  Yes....it's that time of year.  State Fair!!  Just returned from the New Mexico State Fair in Albuquerque to show the lovely equines.  I've got more State Fair fun facts than you can shake a roasted turkey drumstick at.

All this week....Lord willing....I'll be sharing crazy fair impressions with you.  It would behoove you to keep stopping by.  Don't miss a moment of the silliness.  Or miss the animals.  Or miss the rides.  Or the giant midway foods!  Some fair mysteries to whet your fairical appetite.

Why is this clean-cut young man rapping an innocent pig with a stick in front of rowdy onlookers?

 

What is the purpose of the horse huddle?  Or....is this a brazen example of public prayer****gasp!****??

 

Is the serious young lady about to hurl her texas taters?

 

Uh....huh......can't think..of..a....thing........I'm rendered speechless.  Enjoy.

 

Now,  for the MOST DISTURBING IMAGE.....you've NEVER seen anything this debased.  It'll scare the h-e-double L out of ya!  Hold on to your footlong corny dog!

 

Silence of the Lambs....Goat Edition!  How many hapless homo sapiens did this wicked goat consume before the fair police chained him to the fence in his Anthony Hopkins mask??!  Or, is the goat simply too fond of fava beans and liver?  look on top of the cage for the body......

Have the best Monday ever.  Remember....Fair Fun ALL WEEK on this blog.  Check back.

Midway love to all.

dogtal hygienist

Told you about the vet giving me instructions to brush the wiener's teeth.  Thought it would be a struggle....but surprisingly....NO.  Seems I have a highly trainable canine.  Started by showing her the toothbrush and carefully explaining the need for proper oral hygiene.

She wisely nodded and sniffed her approval.  Where's Gene and why are you telling him 'hello'.  Lord...eye-rolling....why must dachshunds take everything so literally?

Anyhoo, the toothbrushing training was proceeding well.  Not sure the animal cracker reward didn't undo all the toothy cleanliness we were striving to obtain.

She's progressed miles in the last few days.  She WAS quietly accepting it, but YOU know the wiener.  She's always 100% 'in'.

During today's cleaning, she barked orders asking I make an appointment with my favorite dentist....the talented dentist-to-the-stars....Dr. Clint Esler.  She said she was very interested in professional teeth whitening (her Crest White Strips weren't suiting her) and she MIGHT be a candidate for dental veneers-but she never undergoes ANY dental procedure without nitrous.  'Please advise Dr. Esler'. 

She produced the following picture....seems the wiener desires her teeth to look like Pamela Anderson's teeth.

Pamela Anderson??  You looked at this photo of Pam Anderson and all you noticed were her TEETH?! 

Now you realize what I was thinking.....

can dental implants be far behind?! 

Oh Lawzie..puh-leeze.send.help

exploring the dark and dank

No, no....the title of this post is not about my colonoscopy and esophogeal scope today.  Let me tell you, interweb friends, git 'r done...if you need to!  Not a big deal.  Nothin' to be askeerd of.  Fantastic drugs.  Do it.  Just woke up from the greatest nap EV-AH!  No big problems and nothing that can't be dealt with.  It was all good in the end.  I'm grateful.

All this scoping has me thinking of dark, dank and tight places....like the cave we have been exploring with our sprouts every summer for about.....the last 20 years or so.  The Texan gets the honor of going in first.  He's a seasoned caver!  That's a nice way of saying old.

He has dangled a rope with knots to assist with the cave descent. Yours truly has been down there.  I really have, but this time I wanted to document this for YOU, so I stayed top side.  You're very, very welcome.  I take my descriptive blogging role incredibly seriously.  Down goes the athletic sprout-in-law.

Be careful.  Don't slip and fall in the stream!

The brave Sprout is last inside. She hopes the two previous spelunkers will cushion her likely fall.  Smart Sprout.

This is a tight turn the explorers must make.  Pick your poison:  scale the rocks above the swift stream, or resign yourself to wade in the cold water on the bottom.  I think our cavers took the high road.

The Texan proudly poses after making it half way.

Victorious, the Texan emerges from the cave downstream.  It's quite a climb to get out of there with no help up top!

The Sprout emerges next.  Notice the assistance from up top and from 'down under'.  Hey, watchit Sprout-in law!

Lastly, the in-law emerges. Everyone is exhausted, slimy and safe. The trek through the cave took about 40 minutes.

Did you enjoy your journey through the cave?  Sometimes dark places are scary, and I prefer keeping my hands over my eyes.  The task is better undertaken with friends who can encourage and help.  You can even fall on them if need be!  When spelunking it is good to:

1.  Be strong and confident.

2.  Have a light to illuminate your way.

3.  Have some friends along.

4.  Be in the presence of your Dad.

Blessings and spelunky love to all this week.

liquid diet weekend

If you recognize the following product,

You are:
1) over 50
2) a gastroenterologist
3) suffer from irritable bowel syndrome
4) a sado-masochist

Well....hel-lo moviprep sexy voice (sounds like what one does before attending the local theatre)....you and I will be on an intimate 'first-name' basis this Sunday evening.  Probably whisper sweet nothings deep into the night.  Possibly our relationship will blossom into the wee hours of the a.m.  Don't you be thinkin' bout sleepin'......

A friend told me to put a small t.v, a towel, some lanolin wipes, a blanket, and a pillow in my pottical area.  Plan on spending a A LOT of time there.  A scented candle sounds like a good idea....no?  Vodka, too?

I thought I might write about the experience, but I could never top Dave Barry's description of this procedure.  If I think of anything original, readers of On a Chicken Wing... will be the first to know.  Lucky you!

Worried?  Not too much.  I'm going to have the upper area scoped, as well.  Just want to be sure they disinfect that scope before sliding it down my gullet.  I KNOW where it's been.  I'm a clean freak like that.  I'll be sure and mention it to Dr. L.  Bet he's heard that line before?

Wish me luck.  I'm sure to be at least 5 pounds lighter....yay!

Roxy-Doxy update:  The wiener is recovering from her hernia repair/teeth cleaning.  The vet wants me to brush her teeth.  How does one brush a wiener dog's teeth, exactly?  OK, OK I'll try.... as long as I don't have to floss for her.
She's been in some pain and I've given her the prescribed pain meds.  Made her loopy as hell.  She wants to watch Greta Van Susteren constantly and she pulls up the Greta blog on the computer.  She was in a chat room discussing the Florida preacher burning the Koran.  After chatting for at least 2 hours she turned to me and asked, 'Who is Core-ann?'  See....see what life is like with this petulant, opinionated sausage-dog?
Here she was taking her Red Cross Lifeguard Test on our recent trip to the mountains.

She wants to work at the Country Club pool next summer.

Have a fantastic weekend.  Eat up!  Indulge in lots of tasty solid food in my honor.  Go ahead...you have my permission.  Love to all.

cure for the on-wees

The jet boat of summer has motored off the lake.  All that remains is a broad wake of ennui.  That's on-wee for you non-French readers.  Listlessness, languor, tedium.
I can't help it.  I have it.  Ingredients beyond my control are being poured into my on-wee cocktail.  Some things I won't talk about.  Others are pretty typical for ladies of a certain age.  Can you spell h-o-t-f-l-a-s-h-e-s or c-o-l-o-n-o-s-c-o-p-y?  Serenity prayer 911!  Where's my life jacket?

Know what's a good antidote for the on-wees?  Jumping.  You heard me....jumping!  When the on-wees are dragging you down, look up.

Yes, I know my stomach is showing.  I have a stomach and it hangs out sometimes...deal with it.  Try to see my joy, people.

Better yet, jump with someone else.  With the Texan.  On a big rock in the sky!

Watch your Sprout jump.

Watch your Sprout-in-law nimbly click his heels.

And the numero uno, the number 1 all-time best cure for the on-wees is.....

Roxy-Doxy on a rock.  Does it for me.
I may be simple, but I've got my tried-and-true cures for the on-wees.

Note:  Even though she's just a wiener with questionable political affiliations, who doesn't enjoy Olympic curling, and who has a suspect method of selecting her NCAA b-ball tournament bracket, the Texan and I love her.  She's having surgery for a hernia tomorrow.  I know all will be fine.....but she's our baby.
Of course.....I'll let you know how she does.  Thanks for caring.
May you be blessed.  Jumping love to all this week.