Dear Bonsey Responds, Part II

Dear Bonsey,

 I have been worried about what to do on National Ice Cream Cone day which is fast approaching on Sept 22. There are so many flavors to choose from and I just can't decide. Help me Bonsey! You're my only hope.

Sincerely,
Debbie

Dear Double Scoop Debbie,

Turns out I was not able to get back to you in time to tell you what to do about your quandary. For that, I am deeply sorry. My nights have been spent hitting deer and my days are spent writing up derelict employees. My hope for you is that you were able to try all the flavors, one after the other and felt no shame.

Letting saddle bags reign,
BB

***************************************************************

Dear Bonsey,

I'm just dying to know what to cook for my Kwanzaa feast! Please Help! I only have 3 months to plan!!! EEEK!

Meagan


Dear Moeisha Stewart,

Dying is a curious choice of words considering the kinds of food I'm going to recommend for a festival intended to clog your arteries. Let's face it, Kwanzaa is like Thanksgiving, but deep fried. Even the gravy. Deep friend gravy. Just think about it. Anyway, come back now and listen to some of my suggestions. Thank you.

(deep fried) watermelon
(deep fried) chicken wings
(deep fried) corn bread
(deep fried and battered) okra
(deep fried) collared greens

But you might want to verify these claims. Really, the only experience I've had with black people was an abbreviated Jimmy Hendrix phase in High School.

Perpetuating racial stereotypes everyday,
BB

Color Conundrums

Yours Truly has been nesting in her new condo for a few weeks now.  Still too poor to furnish it like her perfectionist heart desires, she decided to get crafty.  In one hair brained idea, she bought a table and chairs from an antique dealer in the area.  Although she does not abhor the present color, it needed some certain "omph" and "boom-shakalaka."

This transformation required a trip to Lowes to scour the paint chip aisle which in her previous life, had afforded her all the necessary colorful card stock in her card-making days, then over to Hobby Lobby where she found a wicked cute linen print and a crabby, kinky-haired saleslady. 

Here is what I'm destroying... (plus two other chairs not pictured)

My project, en route...

In case you can't see just how cute this linen print is, here is a closer look.  Eh, the picture just does not do it justice.  Trust me, it's cute.

Here's the part that just gets me.  I don't like it.  I'm fickle like that.  I'm going to finish the paint job and sell it consignment.  Because I'm thrifty like that.  Then I'm calling Grand Home Furnishing.  0% APR for 12 months, you know.

Because you asked, here is the fabric for my curtains. It was a great day when I found out that you could "sew" with an iron and fabric tape. 

Dear Bonsey, Part Dos

Remember when I begged you all for some quandaries involving difficult life situations?  Well, let 'em rip because my ears are open and my logic is squirrelly.

Do you have a problem with your stupid boyfriend?  Tell ol' Bonsey about it.  Come come now, cry on my freckled shoulder.

Likewise, do you need to know what to cook for Kwanzaa?  Inquire within.

I live to dispense advice.  I do it for free. All. The. Time.

Thinking it Ova.

The upcoming nuptials of a friend has gotten me thinking.  Kate has been one of the last single cowgirls standing until she flies the coup in October.  Obviously, I have a handful of friends who are in my similar position but a majority of them are married with one or two or three kids to their name.  This makes me wonder if one day I will wake up, throw my arms above my head and in mid-stretch be struck with sheer terror at the prospect of being unwed and barren at this juncture in my life.  I just don't know. I will keep you posted, friends.

The unspoken societal expectations of love, marriage and baby carriages I acknowledge but rebuff because truthfully, I enjoy my life.  My work is satisfying, I appreciate my friends and love my family dearly.  My life is full, rich and lovely because of them.  My choice is to embrace each day in all its newness, never giving more than a fleeting glance at the road ahead because that's just it.  It's the road ahead. You can't get there by speeding or growing anxious at the thought of taking a few detours along the way. All you can do is just putter along in your 2001 PT Cruiser named Cheryl and dodge the deer and hobos.

However, while I get philosophical and apathetic, my ovaries are getting old, cranky and lazy.

Left Ovary {Gladys}:  "Oh, my aching back... Charity, you ova theya? (She's from New York)

Right Ovary {Charity}: "Waaaa?"  (Poor hearing)

Gladys: "I sayyd .. .....  ..... ..... can't rememba.  Do you want a bee-ar?"