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Showing posts from 2010

Ein glückliches neues Jahr!

As the horrific memories of the past year have been stored in the brain and hopefully are being killed by alcohol as I write this, I bid you a happy new year. Any growing glimmer of hope for a better upcoming year will surely be doused by self-loathing and mind-numbing paper pushing. I have no new year's resolutions because I don't believe in organized thought.

Please post your mediocre new year's resolutions as a comment to this post, so that I may live vicariously through your hellish normality.

The Old Woman and the Christmas cookies

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As it is Christmastime, I thought that I should tell the story of The Old Woman's Christmas cookies. The Old Woman was once a great baker, believe it or not. In the fall and summertime, she made her famous cinnamon rolls and apple pie. But, The Old Woman's greatest baking achievement was her Christmas cookies.

Now, the cookies that she made weren't the mediocre flat sugar cookies with a Hershey's kiss squished in the middle that you poor slugs are used to. The Old Woman's cookies were all hand made from scratch. She made a few different types every year.

The following list outlines The Old Woman's cookie repertoire:

Anisette cookies. (As pictured above). These Italian cookies are a vanilla and anisette flavored delicacy. Anisette gets its flavor from anise, a liquor, that tastes like licorice. On paper, they actually sound gross right? Well they are awesome! So, shut it!

Chocolate whiskey cookies. These were not my favorite and could be a tad dry. The Old Woma…

Happy Birthday to The Old Man

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Happy Birthday to The Old Man!
~12/09/1929~


For this special occasion, I will relay a short but sweet story that I heard from my brother, let's call him Craig.


Back when Craig was in high school, on cold winter days, he would be eating breakfast and waiting to go to class, The Old Man would get up and make it to our one bathroom to shave. The Old Man has this shaving kit with a ivory white shaving cream brush. After he slathered on the Barbasol with the brush and shaved off the stubble, he'd splash on some Old Spice and make his way over to his sock drawer. Now his sock drawer was really a catch-all wood cabinet thing that we called "the bar." The Old Man kept all sorts of things in the various drawers of the bar, socks were just the icing. 


It was pretty dark outside and The Old Man would usually just have the little light on  in the ceiling over the bar. Now The Old Man had about 57 different pairs of black socks in the bar. And they all were different shades. His sock…

The Old Woman and the Christmas tree

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The Old Woman loved Christmas. Every year, the day after Thanksgiving was xmas decorating day. She had her own Christmas store upstairs in the closet, affectionately known as The Camping Room. She had lights, center pieces, candles, garland, bows, light-up ceramic houses, bulbs, floo-flounders and tong-tinklers. The Old Woman had everything in plastic bags. She hauled them downstairs and the xmas magic commenced. In the early years, The Old Woman used the "normal-type" decorations. Meaning, silver tinsel and glass bulbs. Actual colored lights adorned the tree. I'll qualify this statement by giving a run down of The Old Woman's eclectic decorating style later. She would get this glossy crazed look in her eyes when she was in the middle of her frenzied decking of the halls. For many years we had a real Christmas tree. Those were the good years, and we used the normal tree trimmings. Probably in the late 70s or so, The Old Woman bought a fancy fake xmas tree, and that&#…

Divorce: Like battling your way through Russia, only to freeze to death in Stalingrad

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I think that everyone should experience the searing blitzkrieg of a divorce. The old adage is true. You know, whatever doesn't kill you, makes you stronger. Well, unless your spouse hires a hit man. Now I'm not telling you to just get a divorce for the hell of it. That would be silly. But, if you are a big fan of drinking heavily, sleepless nights and giving all your money to cheesy divorce lawyers, the D-word is for you. So, live a little and suffer through it like you're in the middle of a cold Russian winter. The Red army is bearing down on you. You may make it to that last fucking transport plane out of despair. It's ok if you stay stranded. It's a good and noble death.

Chestnuts and Pepsi

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The holidays are upon us. One very lucid memory of The Old Lady I have is the fall and winter time ritual of eating chestnuts and watching xmas specials on TV. Now a chestnut is small brown soft fruit that you cook in the oven, or roast over an open fire. You know the song. I guess eating chestnuts is sort of an North Eastern or Italian thing. I noticed yesterday when I was out shopping, there were little bags of chestnuts on a shelf that said "Italian Chestnuts" on them. They were actually small and pathetic looking. It must be a Virginia screw-up. Importing the wrong kind, no doubt.

Around Halloween, The Old Lady would pick up a giant bag of chestnuts from the bulk barrel at the local Price-Chopper, the fall time is the only time of year when you can buy them. The Old Lady would normally spend about $200 a week on groceries. She'd get on pounds of jewelry and makeup and have The Old Man or one of the sons to drive her to the store. Yeah, she never learned to drive! I u…

Fun with Xanax

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Like most people who are teetering on the edge with mental instabilities, I have come to the conclusion that I have absolutely no control over my life. So I have decided that trudging away at life sitting in a prison-blue colored cubicle is simply idiotic. I am now on a quest to find a job that I like and fulfills me somehow. Now, I have looked on Monster.com and I couldn't find any jobs for International Playboy listed. I'm going to keep looking.

Maybe something dangerous might suit me. Bombsquad? High-tension wire biter? There has to be something. Why is it that most people toil away in a job and hope by the end of their career, they have enough money to retire on and then die. Is that what life is about? It's just wretchedly sad. It's no wonder I drink.
Cheers!

Another ask Eric a question

Dear Death Becomes Me:    I recently lost my job. Okay recently being a relative word. I lost and haven’t found a new one in over six months. I’ve tried everything I can think of, networking with friends, and family, going to employment agencies, walking into various corporate offices armed with a stack of résumé’s ---only to discover that 1.security guards are a lot tougher than then their overweight appearances initially let on. And 2, that soliciting jobs is a lot like soliciting sex only you're more likely to get solicited for sex cause the offices I went to were those on Capital Hill.    The reason for this letter is, I’ve got three more weeks of unemployment benefits, and then I am out on the street.  I don’t think I have much more to live for after the money runs out. I have expenses, a high maintenance girlfriend, a dog whose medical bills continue to trump the nation’s debt, not to mention (but I will because I’m in the mood to complain) various creditors (Sallie Mae) --who…

Birthday Wishes

Happy Birthday Jennifer! The best dang badass waitress there is!

Halloween costumes for manic depressives

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Ah it's that creepy time of year again, I mean creepier than usual. It's nearing Halloween. Leaves are already red and orange, bad horror movies have taken over the TV on weekends. So this year I thought that I should dress up as something befitting a cool manic depressive such as myself. All of the cliche movie monsters really won't cut it.

My first thought for this years costume was Confused White Suicide Bomber. I decided against this because explosive vests tend to make me look fat.
I could do the whole range of suicidal death, i.e.; slit wrists, nylon noose around the neck, empty sleeping pill bottle(with stomach pump in case the emt's got to me in time). Somehow I would tether the empty prescription bottle to the end of my finger tip so it looks like I dropped on the floor as I slipped off to the netherworld.


I might go as a Great Depression era unemployed father of six standing in a bread line. For example one of these guys: 



This year I am far from home and as it …

Hello, uh where the bloody hell am I?

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With recent slew of washed-up 80s metal and hair bands going back on tour to support their various addictions, my brother and I have decided to pitch a new reality TV show to VH-1. The show will be called On Tour Now! Each week, the show will follow a different band to their gig du jour. Of course, there will be a little bio of the band of the week filled with videos and images of their glory days. As a running gag on the show, every band will have extreme hatred for Bon Jovi and all of their/his success. In the cut scenes, we'll interview people on the street and ask them if they remember any of band of the weeks hits. Every person will of course name a Bon Jovi song.

Let's take your average platinum record selling band like Ratt, our first show's band of the week. Ratt has sold around 20 million records according to Wikipedia. The first scene opens with a zoom-in on some wretched motor lodge as the Ratt tour van pulls into the parking lot. Straggly fifty-something's …

Top 10 sayings of The Old Man

Over the years, The Old Man concocted some rather ingenious albeit wacky sayings. This list is in no particular order. Please comment if any of you can think of other ones.


What's all this laughin' and talkin' going on?
The more they come, the uglier they get.
Hell of a thing.
Crazier than a shithouse rat.
Sonny boy!
Come on old paint, let's get where we aint.
Hammer!
If you listen closely, you can here the call of the Shitbird, shit! shit!
Close enough for our girls.
How ya doin'?

Fun with reincarnation

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When I die, I want to make a deal with whatever higher power that happens to be there greeting me. Instead of coming back to Earth as a pampered cat or something, I want to be reborn in let's say 1925 or so. This would make me the perfect age to fight in WWII. As long as I'm a man, be it Germany, Britain, or the US, I will be happy. 

I know what you're thinking: "Eric, you're going to freeze to death in Stalingrad." No, I don't think so Tim. I have many years of WWII video game experience to help save my ass.
I know that I can fit right in as a person of the 1930's and 40's. You know, I might even have been there before in a former life. It feels so familiar to me when I'm watching an old black and white movie.The slang and manner of speaking back then was the coolest. I mean, who wouldn't want to say "Nice gams!", and "Yeah, it's curtains for you see!" all day long. 



Working with The Old Man

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When I was a teenager, one of my first jobs was to accompany The Old Man on his electrical jobs. The Old Man was a Master Electrician and had a full-time job at a paper factory. The factory has long since closed as much of America's manufacturing has done. At any rate, The Old Man had a side business doing residential and commercial wiring. He loved it. Nothing gave The Old Man more joy than to go out on a service call after he came home from work. I know what you're saying: "Wasn't The Old Man tired after a long day sweating away at the paper mill?" No way bitches!

But he did have people working for him. Oh yes. His workforce consisted of his master race. Through the years, every one of The Old Man's sons, well except for Craig, were enlisted in the electrical Wehrmacht. Instead of Tiger tanks, we drove a custom Econoline van slathered with The Old Man's company logo on it. This included a bitchin' electric plug with lightning coming out of it. Ah, t…

Mad Men, Bewitched without the nose twitching

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When I was a kid I used to watch the TV show Bewitched, re-runs of course. Bewitched is a 1960's series about a advertising executive who marries a witch, a real witch not the normal everyday wife. Every week, the show's plot centered around Darren Stevens' plight to come up with some great slogan or campaign for a client. Hmmm. Sounds familiar. I used to and still think that that would be the ultimate job. Of course, Darren always fell victim to one of his mother-n-law's evil spells. Usually, these included him only able to speak Italian, or his head affixed with gigantic ears.

Interestingly enough, the modern TV series, Mad Men has many of the same characters and plot lines. Here are some of the main characters on both shows:


In both shows much drinking and smoking takes place. Mainly fancy drinks like the Old Fashioned and Martinis. Luckily, Endora is missing from Mad Men. So I am sure that the writers and producers of Mad Men were greatly inspired by Bewitched and t…

Good Luck Thurston

Good luck on Monday.  We're all thinking of you.

Spending eternity...with the ex

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In a recent conversation with my brother, he assured me that I would not be alone when I'm dead and six feet under. He asserted that I would be buried next to my ex wife. There would also be a tunnel or passage way leading from her casket to mine. Of course, this would just be a one-way path in which she only has access. This will allow her to reach over to me and rip, tear the flesh off of my arm for all of eternity. For some unlucky reason, every night my skin, muscle and tendons will heal and she can do it all over again in the morning. Thanks Craig! You rock!

My son

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My son is my buddy. He has been there by my side in the darkest of days. He was there for me when I was at the absolute bottom and limit of what the human spirit can endure. Always with a smile. Always happy to just be, there with me. Words cannot even begin to describe the shear emptiness and despair I feel when leaving him. Holding him in my arms and kissing his little cheeks as tears fill his beautiful blue eyes, I can imagine doing this even when he is grown. Yes, he is my good buddy. My son, Sam.

Thurston's Deck Staining Service

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As many of you know, I have more than a few siblings. One of my brothers, let’s call him Chris, has enjoyed much success as a nuclear plant worker. Suffice it to say, he is pretty well off. Well, Chris has been unmercifully taunted by me and my brother Craig, who many of you may hate. Chris’ nickname is Thurston, of Gilligan’s Island fame. Thurston Howell III is a multi-millionaire on the TV show, sporting steamer trunks full of money and an endless wardrobe of expensive clothing. He is accompanied by his wife, who he refers to as Lovey. The Howells try to get out of as much work as they can on the island and usually trick Gilligan into doing it for them. Thurston speaks with a very aristocratic tone and is basically an amalgam of how rich guys sound. Click here to see a clip of Thurston.

Well, as it turns out, Chris(Thurston) became slightly bored on his recent vacation and decided to stain the neighbor's massive deck. Ever since Thurston took on the job of staining his backyard …

The year of living morosely

As I have now spent more than a year divorced and two years miserably separated, certain horrible things have dawned on me. I will outline these in the bulleted list below.


The fictional characters on TV shows make the best friendsThe only reason I would get married again is if I needed to stay in a foreign country because of legal trouble back in the USThe little shopping carts at Wegmans built for one person's groceries make me smile when I use themIt's hard to get out of bed in the morning because my queen size air mattress is so damn comfortableI have a hard time playing video games now because it brings me back to the times I would ignore my wife playing every weekendI have a set of grooves in my carpet from moving the one chair I own from room to roomI love swearing at the female voice of my cellphone when she can't understand my voice dialingI would rather just be surprised than go to a doctor for a yearly physicalI have my child support case worker added to my insta…

The top home improvements made by The Old Man. Part III

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The New Room
After the fantastic pool was done, the estate was in need of a patio to entertain guests and provide a cool place to get out of the sun. What beautiful and fancy design would The Old Man come up with? That's right! A box pasted on the back of the house. Oh well. The new addition would also have a living room on the second floor to accommodate the ever expanding family. The New Room was equipped with the latest in 1970s carpeting and wood paneling. A wondrous orange metal fireplace seen here was also installed. 




The main purpose of this room, at various points in time, was to house the TV set. In later years, it just existed to be a staging area for The Old Woman’s eternal Christmas tree. Also, the couch in The New Room is used as a filing cabinet for The Old Woman’s bills that she hid from The Old Man. 


Unlike most of the estate, The New Room has only gotten a couple of renovations. My personal favorite is the current one. Knotty-pine everywhere. At one time squirrels ha…

The top home improvements made by The Old Man

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As I have written before, The Old Man had an unmatched skill at coming up with insane projects around the estate. This will be a two part segment and I will attempt to list the coolest and most ingenious.

Although I wasn't around for the first twenty some odd years of the estate, stories have been handed down for what seem like an millennia. So in no certain order, here they are.


The Blue Vinyl Siding

The estate spent many years covered in a hard siding that was made out of asbestos siding seen here:



Well after a couple different paint schemes, the house looked dated and scary, it was time to replace the old siding.  The Old Man debated long and hard on what to replace the sad asbestos with and he decided on vinyl siding. He struck a deal with a contractor who he put a furnace in for and work was set to begin. But first, the old siding had to come off.  So the work force sprang into action and began ripping it off the house. But where would the workers put the broken pieces? A rent…

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. How to stalk hot chicks at Target.

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Even though I spent some hellish months working at Target, shopping there is a different beast entirely. I'm always in awe of the high-quality hotness of the women that I see in any Target that I go to. There are also many hot mom types with their kids in tow. Usually, the brats are screaming about some toy or candy that they want. Unfortunately for men in their mid thirty's, their female counterparts have all fallen apart and have become old hags. All those years of laying in a tanning bed has turned their skin into a candidate for a knockoff Gucci hand bag. This is especially true if they have popped out a couple of kids. Ugh, that's just an all around disaster area down in the nether region. That sexy tramp stamp tattoo has now just become a green blur riding the back fat wave. So it's refreshing to actually see hot moms walking around Target and it makes me wonder where the hell they come from.
So here's the typical stalk outing: 1. Enter the store and get you…

The SS Deflation- the air mattress from Hell

In a recent trip back home, I chose to stay with my parents at the old estate. This would also allow me to spend some much needed time with my son. Not to mention The Old Man and Old Woman in their last few remaining years. Fortunately for us the old mansion in the city is still in great shape and has a multitude of rooms in which to frolic. My son picked out his own knotty pine laden room and plugged in his Nintendo DS charger and laid out his Webkinz animals on the bed. By bed I mean moth eaten mattress laying on the floor. Luckily, my son is very resilient and lets many thing roll off his back. After we scraped off the layer of dust off on TV in the room, we were ready for a fabulous night.
After a while we were ready for bed.  As I lay there on the same mattress with my son, his asthma and other ailments kicked in and the snoring and snorting began. Now, there is absolutely nothing I wouldn't do for this kid. I would gladly take a bullet for him.  I barely slept, but it was wor…

Death Becomes Me is back

I have decided to moon conformity and reinstate the blog forever.  I refuse to compromise who I am just to make money.

My new VA plate #

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Beware the paper shredder

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Luckily for me I still have one friend left from my old company, come to think of it, he is my only friend.  At any rate, he religiously sends me the ridiculous safety crap from emails and meetings.  The latest incident happened with a paper shredder.  I have embedded the pdf below.


Fortunately for all of us, we have recovered the 911 call for this horrible incident: 
(if you can't hear the call, click here to download)

Gas, gas everywhere and not a drop to buy

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Last weekend I was on a road trip home and stopped for gas in the great state of Pennsylvania.  Much to my chagrin, the debit card that I normally use to purchase extravagant things like food and other essential supplies wouldn't work.  Thinking that my card was broken, I called the 1-800 number.  Well, come to find out my account had been frozen for child support arrears.  I know what you're saying, Eric, you fucking bastard!  How can you shirk out on your fatherly duties?  It's true, I purposefully lost my job, lived in basements and accepted handouts to suffer for my craft.

As I sat there in my car wondering what to do about this dire situation, I thought, to myself, "Maybe if I sleep in my car tonight someone will break in and kill me."  I looked around for anything I could hock for about fifty bucks.  I figured I would probably get in trouble if I sold my work laptop and I would rather lose a leg than sell my iPod.  So, I braced myself for the March Pennsylv…

The Red Queen

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Hmmm.  There's something familiar about her.  I can't quite put my finger on it.  Could it be the giant head with that mop of hair?  The short 4'11" body?  That nasty turn on you at the drop of a hat personality?  I don't know maybe it's nothing.


Ingenious pool heater or secret Nazi weapon...you decide.

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Of the many life-scarring household building projects that occurred at the old family homestead, none stands out more in everyone's mind than the satanic black iron pool heater contraption that the old man came up with. Growing up, there was always some pile of pressure-treated wood, stones, concrete, siding, PVC pipe, mulch, shingles, roof tar, knotty pine, slate, landscape timbers, park-a flooring, insulation, replacement windows, central vacuum system, and AstroTurf carpeting just waiting to be deployed at the estate. It always gave you a sick feeling in the pit of your stomach to wake up on a Saturday morning and find ten gallons of orange paint waiting for you in the dining room.

In the old days one of the greatest symbols that you had made it in the world, was to have an in ground pool. The Old Man finally achieved this goal and life was good. Or maybe. The one lingering thought in his mind was that the pool was never quite warm enough. So he and his son-n-law,…

I Can’t Pay the Rent ‘Cause I’m Addicted to Codeine

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In this, the final in the three part story of The Old Man’s business ventures and properties, I’m going to tell the glorious tale of 219. 219 is the number of the house down the street that The Old Man owned for many years.








(219 in the college days)




At some point in the mid ‘70s, The Old Man purchased a perfectly wretched two story house with the intent of making a fortune in rent. It stood ominously above the street just daring someone to tame it. The craggy old man who lived across the street from 219 always had an itch to buy it and live there with his equally craggy wife. He resented The Old Man for owning such a magnificent structure. He would call the police for any little incident that happened involving the renters.

219 was what you would call a “fixer upper” but what it lacked in elegance, it made up for it in filth. From what I can recall, 219 was a traditional turn of the century building. The house had a really bitchin’ extra stairwell in the back of the kitche…

Sleep Paralysis

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If you've ever experienced sleep paralysis you know that it can be scary and hellish.  In essence, your brain wakes up while your body is still paralyzed in REM sleep.  As you lay there unable to move, you can hallucinate and sometimes imagine that creatures or demons are sitting on your chest holding you down. This the same thing that happens when mentally unstable people go on the Jerry Springer show and claim that they were abducted by aliens. 

This is the scene that played out in my room last night.  I awoke laying on my back and my eyes were the only body part that weren't paralyzed. Suddenly, I saw a little white amorphous blob floating over to me from the left side of the room. It stood next to me at the head of bed.  Another blob stood a few feet taller and floated to the right side of the bed.  The right hand blob was pointing at my legs and left hand kid-sized blob was just staring at me.  I tried to scream, but no sound would come. As I finally regained movement in …

Black Cloud

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A big whoop-whoop shoutout and congrats goes to my ex for her pregnancy, (not mine by the way). Have fun with the demented reality show.
Recently, I was chatting with my brother, let's call him Lefty, and we discussed how I am able to control the bad luck of other people.  For example, pets die, vicious yet hilarious cross-country ski accidents, unexplained deafness, ill-advised pregnancies, finger impalement's, unprecedented snow-fall...etc. etc.  Point being, I'm like a Reaper on the TV series Supernatural, or the bizarro A-Team. If you don't have a problem, and no one else can give you one, and if I can find you, maybe you can fall victim to Me. 

Oh fudge!

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I really like to swear.  Nothing is more satisfying when you are stuck in mind-bending traffic on the way to work than letting out a few four letter words and pounding the steering wheel.  There are some who think that swearing is bad for your "soul", but I think that if there is such a thing, it is really chicken soup.  Tell me, who is it really hurting?  You aren't killing, maiming, or molesting anyone.  It's sort of like verbal masturbating.  I refuse to believe that you can go to "Hell" by saying the f-word a few billion times in your life.


Ah, I can't wait to get that next bill in the mail or get yelled at by the ex.

Texts from the ex

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If you’re like me, nothing gives you more pleasure than reading nasty text messages from the ex.  Here’s some recent gems from mine: —i hate u right now —whatever helps u sleep at night —u couldve done a good enough job to stay there at least until u got a new job in the area but once a selfish bastard…always one —atleast the kids r fine in spite of u Ah, good times, good times.

Sledding with Eva

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I know that in the past, I have focused on The Old Man's exploits, this week I would like to relay some fond memories about The Old Lady.  Lately, there have been some less than kind feelings towards The Old Lady from some in my family.  By less than kind I mean, hold her head in an oven. So I thought that I would share a poignant winter memory from winters long ago.
Growing up at the estate was fantastic because of the sprawling grounds and a great hill off to the side of the house.  This hill was perfect for winter sledding.  Occasionally, The Old Lady would go outside to play in the snow with us.  It was always at night, because she couldn't be seen without high-heels and makeup on.

(The Old Lady, ready for sledding)
After The Old Man would make our 'hots-cakes' dinner, The Old Lady would dig through her closet and get out one of her older rabbit fur coats and put on a couple of pairs of wool pants.  I'm sure that she wore some sort of high-heeled leather boots.  Y…