Friday Fragments

This is my first official Friday Fragments post. Basically, it's a conglomeration of thoughts, stuff that by itself might be too short for a whole post of its own. Random stuff, basically. I know, that's what a lot of my posts are, but this time it's on PURPOSE. See the distinction?

I got the idea from Mrs. 4444 over at Half Past Kissing Time, who has a fabulously popular blog. I might just do it every Friday. We'll see how long my attention span turns out to be...



I take two medicines daily - for high blood pressure - and have for many years. They seem to work just fine, and they are the tiniest pills you could imagine, and cheap, thank heaven. I get 90 days supply at a time, in the smallest prescription bottle there is, and they don't even take up one-quarter of the bottle. Yesterday, I went to get my refill, and the package they gave me had something much larger, and rectangular-shaped, in it. When I got home, I found that they had given me 3 one-month blister-packages. The kind where each pill can be popped out through the foil. And the days are marked on them. So I push through Monday's pill, and can tell I already took it; and then on Tuesday, I push through Tuesday's pill. Fine, but why the change? Is it my age? Did the phamacist see my refill request and say to himself, "wow, she's old and she probably can't remember whether she took her pill every day. I better give her the old people pack"????????????????

All this talk about personal freedom has got me to thinking. I'm all for freedom. I cherish it, in fact, and thanks to those who have defended my liberty with their lives. Personal freedom seems to refer to something else - the freedom to be yourself, to be who you really are. This sounds good, too, until someone uses it as an excuse to hurt someone, to show utter disregard for others, to break the laws of decency. I guess what I mean is, that it's wonderful to be who you are. Unless who you are is a jerk. Then it's not so good.

One of the keys on my laptop squeaks when I press it. It only just started doing this a couple of days ago, and already I'm crazed from it. I've actually tried to think about skipping that letter - just not using any words that require it. Unfortunately, it's impossible - it's the letter T. In the previous two sentences, I used the T somewhere around 20 or more times. ARGGGH. Hey, I can type argggh without using the T.

Does anyone know why pineapple juice comes in cans instead of glass or plastic? One of my sons loves pineapple juice and will drink it in massive quantities. But it comes in non-resealable containers. This bugs the crap out of me. I have to open it with one of those old fashioned triangle can openers, and then empty the contents into a separate plastic container. Every other juice on the planet comes in plastic bottles with screw-top lids. What's with you, pineapple?

I have one dog who lives in the house a lot of the time. Her name is Bliss and she's a shepherd/husky mix. She is a bit too old to race on our pro teams, but she used to be an awesome leader, and still is our number one puppy trainer. Sometimes we lend her to people who want a really safe dog for their child's first race. Bliss is housebroken, obedience trained, doesn't eat the cats, and I love her to pieces. She keeps me company a lot these days. She understands everything I say. No, really, she does. Anyway, one of the things I love about her is that, every time I let her out to go potty, she runs down to the dog yard to play with her offspring. Her puppies are 10 months old now, and just about full grown. Most sled dogs are no longer interested in their puppies after weaning, but not Bliss. She loves them. Forever. We sold a dog (one of her puppies from a litter 5 years ago) to another racing team, and every time Bliss sees this dog at a race, she has to go love on her. I feel the exact same way about my kids.