Chicken…Egg…Greek Philosophers et all…


Plato, Socrates, Aristotle, and all the unnamed female philosophers of ancient Greece would have found me to be very good company for them.  I love to ponder and create questions, where it would have been easier just to eat the egg and move on.

But that’s not my style.  I was thinking that I always see a bunch of chickens in films of, what else, chickens being raised.  Lots and lots of white chickens.  But…I have yet to see a rooster in the crowd.  Now, get ready for this one…how the heck these chicks get impregnated?  That is big, very big!!!  Are the feeding them the spermatozoon by means of drinking water or in the chicken feed?  So…as Socrates’ wife would say, where did the egg come from?  So…what in the world am I eating?  An artificially inseminated boiled egg?  Is that why eggs stink so very bad?  That one is for another contemplating moment.

Don’t chickens and roosters make love or make whoopee?  I have had that romantic fantasy since I was a little girl.  Need to google that.  What a let down!

This business of automation is getting to be very serious…I am freaking out!  You mean that in the future a guy and a gal could just drink water or take a pill, and that’s it!  So in nine or whatever months…ta ra!!  A bebe (baby)… puff, comes out. I was going to say something about the older crowd…those of us that just…but I have decided to leave that very alone.  Do not want to get into trouble with the censorship police.  Have enough already with the grammar police.  There’s only so much my romantic heart can take.

I have to admit it…this is somewhat a different kind of thinking…now that I am a docent a at museum…I am going to name it…”PMAE.”  Post Menopausal Art Expression.  Very avant-garde.  I like it!

Now, let’s address the issue of unnamed female philosophers…who do you think was giving these guys all these glorious pondering moments?  Really…you really think that these guys figured all of those deep thoughts just by themselves…you got to be kidding.  Guys can do nothing without…you guessed…women.  Probably the women would tell them what they were pondering on…and voila…they would go out and meet with their friends and make it look like it came from them.  Nothing has changed…sorry my dear male friends.  It is what it is.  But we love all of you dearly, anyway.

Well…enough of this heavy thinking for today.  Brain is getting in overload mode.  Not such a good thing when you have too few neurons at full capacity.

Your Happiest today, Contessa

“Which one came first…the egg…the chicken…”  Now you use your own neurons to figure it all out.


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I am cooking…on a food roll…


Yes, I made a different dinner tonight.  The goddesses of the culinary department in Heaven must be frantic.  That woman, in the kitchen, and cooking something new?  Sound the alarm.

Yep, I bought an avocado, some chick peas (garbanzos), wild sockeye salmon, and one mango.  This is the result of all of these ingredients.  Frankly, I looked at the items for 2 days, and today decided that I was not going to let them spoil.  So…around 4:30 pm, I started with the mango.  Peeled, cut it and put it with a bit of water and some sugar to boil.  Then the peas, I warmed them a little to make it easier to mash, peeled the avocado, cut it in small pieces.  Mixed those two, added some lemon juice, extra virgin olive oil, garlic salt and very little regular salt.  The salmon, just put it in a pan, with very little evoo and some garlic salt on top.  Let it  cook at your preference, and voila, there you have it.  A delicious, lots of protein dinner.

Frankly, I may have forgotten a thing or two, because I do not follow instructions and make my own rules when I am in that dreaded place of the house, called kitchen.  I do not like to cook!  But… I do like to eat healthy food, so I have to psych myself to go in you know where.  I like a pretty and clean kitchen, but my ideal home would be one without that department.

It was so tasty and good for all parts of my ancient, from the cave-age-body.  Honesty is a good trait I possess.

Confession time…I have some new highly educated friends on that social network, so I am having nightmares about how they are going to interpret my use of the English language.  Just when I was chillin with my life, there they show up!  Hopefully, “they” won’t be reading this, and just in case they do…the grammar police and I already have made peace with each other a long time ago.  Well…I feel much better now that this issue is out of my system.  I am who I am and it is what it is.

Ta ta

Happy Contessa

“Enjoy everything in your whatever life, because it is very short and only you can make it delicious.”  Me.

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Southern charm…Food and…


This was an unusual experience.  Since when do Southern restaurants have so much noise that you want to gulp down the food and leave as soon as possible.  I thought only the big golden arches did that.  This is a new era.  Always noisy and on the run.

I had the shrimp creole or something like that over grits and sweet corn bread.  It was outrageously delicious!  The name of the place is a chicken coop (that’s somewhat the real name, but because I don’t endorse or criticize restaurants because I am not a Food Critic, I don’t mention their real name).  My mouth is the best food critic you will ever meet, if you ask me.  I do not volunteer my opinion, except in this forum, because it is mine to say whatever I want to.

Well…going back to the experience…as soon as we got in the place, the noise was so high that I had my doubts as to stay or go.  We decided we will go through the experience.  You walk up to a buffet style counter, and you tell the servers what you would like to have and, you get your food, you pay, get your drinks, silverware, napkins and sit wherever you can find a place.  That’s the new style en vogue…the more difficult they make it for you…the more people love the place.  What gives.  No…I did not have sweet tea.  Didn’t see any Southern gentlemen either, except the one gentleman with us.  I was there to eat, not to get a partner.

My food was great…my system must be in shock going from grazing all the time to all these hundreds of small pieces of ham, tomatoes, lots of spices and a good number of shrimps, maybe farm-raised in Malaysia.  What the heck, I was out for the experience, not to have a psychology session with my stomach, trying to explain to this 60+ year-old stomach what was about to happen.  So ok.

YOLO…you only live once.  Yeah, but I want to live once and for a kind of long time.  Need to find out if there is any oxymoron syndrome involved in all of this.

Next time “Take Out” is the name of the game.  Maybe once a year.  Good idea.

Your Happy Contessa

“Nobody can be exactly like me.  Sometimes even I have trouble doing it.” Anonymous

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Complaint about Aging…#101


Not a good idea to take a closer look at yourself on a humid, hot, bad-hair-kind-of-a-day, when you are using an 8x magnifying mirror.

Where in the world all this stuff comes from and when the heck did all these things happened?

I am lost for words and for anything else.  Things hanging everywhere, lines and big dents all over the place, and let’s not go below the neck.  Do not want to convert this posting on a horror story.  I have this humongous mirror on my dinning area, and when I sit to eat, or graze, because that’s all I do, I just move my mouth all the time, and I can see my face all the time while I am eating.  Not a pleasant image.

I don’t know about any of you…but I don’t remember being told anytime when I was a younger, so ravishing looking chick, that this is what was waiting for me at this tender age of mid-sixties.  There I am…I don’t want to reveal my real age anymore.  Too much pain just adjusting to all these new changes.  I caught myself walking in slow motion the other day, and I almost fainted from my reaction to my own body.  The mind is out there, going and going, dancing and dancing, but the body is saying, hey, not so fast.  I hate this!

I am afraid to look to the left, to the right, high above and low below on the mirror anymore.  I get surprises of new areas that have changed in the last 30 seconds or so.  I don’t know how to deal with all these new parts on my body.  I am fearful of laughing too hard and too much, because all these lines come to visit on a second, without being invited.  I love sleeveless shirts, well…the look is not that hot anymore.

Listen up, young punks, enjoy all you can right now, because the transition from gorgeous to “what’s that” happens in a second.  No warning whatsoever.

Creams?  All of them for every area of the body.  Do they work?  Don’t think so, but I still use them anyway.  This is so very hard for a hard-core ex-diva like me.

Now that I let all the steam out, I need to go out and get some books on how to learn to crochet, knit, or paint.  That’s what quiet, nice little old-ladies do.  Right?  Ok, Raylene, you are the exception to the rule.  You’re still a baby, but prepare yourself, my friend, because you will be knitting at a speed you never knew you could.    :)

I am looking to buy a 100x magnifying mirror, so I can torture myself at a better rate.

Wow…life never ceases to amaze me with all these surprising surprises.  Grammar police?

Your Happy Contessa

“Life is better when you can laugh about your own self.”  Me



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What makes me happy…momentarily…Because then there will be the next thing…


There’s a lot of things I can think of…but of course, not all of them I can have, even momentarily.  Do not go off on a tangent, I know how your devious minds think.  Because I am just like all of you…I know where your mind went.

These amazing shoes look so very hot with my white and black skinny jeans.  Also with my long black skirt.

Some people drink alcohol, some smoke, some gossip, some get depressed, some go shopping, oops! and then some just buy pretty shoes.  That’s your humble servant here.

This pair of shoes made me smile, and I love things that make me smile.  When I tried them on…they felt just perfect and so comfy.  Only 3 1/2 inches high.  I can handle them very smoothly and walk in an elegant manner.  Oh yes, it’s all about looking good and feeling great!

Logical thinking behind this purchase.  I can wear these with any color, and carry them into the Florida winter.  Black heels.  I think of everything.  Every purchase I make carries a logical analysis behind it.  My money, not the government, so I have to justify to myself the reasoning behind almost every rational or irrational decision I make.  I have plenty time.  For the irrational decisions I make, well…those I rationalize saying to myself that life is too short to worry about tiny details.  No always I accept readily my thinking.  But…what the heck…YOLO.  You only live once.  Thanks Milagros for teaching me that phrase.  Milagros is my precious very smart daughter.

Hope you are as happy, momentarily at least, as I am.  Love my happy shoes.

Your Happy Contessa

“What there’s not to love about shoes that make you happy.”  Me



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I wanted it so bad…


I am having dreams of having a piece of cake, or maybe a whole cake.  It would be a many layers vanilla cake with enough frosting and coconut flakes to make me spin on my weight scale.  It would be, oh, so worthy!

At the supermarket today, I went by the bakery section, where I almost purchased a few pieces of different kinds of cakes.  I also went to the aisle where they have the already prepared mixes for cakes, I almost bought a few boxes, lemon cake, strawberry cake, vanilla cake…I guess you get the idea.

Am I pregnant?  By a holy or alien being,  you mean?  There’s not another way.  The few little hormones I have left are struggling with my issues of having a crush on someone.  They can only handle so much.  Other than that…remember, I have an incredibly humongous sense of humor.  You need to take my stuff with many grains of sea salt.  Otherwise…you will never get me.

Back to the cake issue…So I decided after a few minutes of contemplation and pondering while looking at all those delicious but not-good-for-you-trash, that I was having none of those.  An apple and some dried pineapple will suffice in my salad.  Hard life, yes, it is.

I must admit, I am getting a little tired of grazing for lunch, plantains for breakfast and quinoa and black beans for dinner.  I don’t think my taste buds even try to taste the same things over and over again.  I just chew and chew some more.  It is starting to taste like nothing much.  But I am too lazy to develop a new menu.  I will have to do that soon, otherwise one of these days, I am going to have a self-inflicted revolt and go get cake, pie, and ice cream (I am salivating as I am typing this).

For how much longer can I stand all of this turmoil in my life.  Crushes, cakes, pies, skinny pants, stilettos?  Life is getting a bit too complicated.  Maybe I should go hiking the Himalayas and eat grass on my way to the top.  That sounds very appealing.  Need to start researching that idea.  Would my lungs be able to go up so high?  We’ll find out…maybe one of these days…but, on the other hand, I may end up becoming a goat.

Until next time…please have as much cake, pie, and ice cream in my honor.  I almost can taste it already.

Your Happy Contessa

“My life is one big piece of cake… I am loving it and having it too.”  Me



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Stilettos…Part 2…The Sequel…


Not for a moment I would doubt my IQ…I never had it tested, and if I would have, there would be a separate category for people like me.  So,  I need to question my perception of distance and height.  Let me explain…

I bought a pair of stilettos thinking they were 5 inches high and I thought…Yeah! I still got it…just to find out when I went to return the shoes that they were not 5 inches…they were at the most 3 1/2 inches high.  She showed me what five inches looked like and I couldn’t close my mouth.  So an apology is in order to my friends of a very famous social network.  I had announced to my limited world of friends (and I like I that way) that I was going to attempt to dance in those shoes.  I just couldn’t get my groove and style flowing with those now known as 3 1/2 inches high.  Another smack on my face given to me by the aging factor.  What else is checking out next?

I am aware of some other things that are shining by their absence, but, on the other hand, some other things have come back into the forefront of my life that I thought were non-existent.  I’ll keep it to myself…but can’t help to share…I think I am infatuated or have a crush on someone, so the happy, butterflies on my stomach feeling is very alive and kicking.  It feels great!

Ok, enough of that…the stilettos showing on the above picture are officially 4 1/2 inches high.  A very dear friend of mine, with whom I spent the afternoon on Mother’s Day had a measuring tape in her purse (she is almost perfect, always prepared), and she made sure I had the height right.  I insisted on trying them on.  No…I couldn’t dance with those sleek and sexy looking shoes.  I need to start accepting in my mind that my body is a good number of decades old.  The mind wants to be sexy, chic and daring, but the body just wants to play safe.  This is not a good thing.  I am definitely not ready for this kind of boring stuff.

Every day that goes by represents a-I-don’t-even-know-what-to-call-it-effect on my mind.  Someone is messing up with my brain, and I am on the search for a solution.  Ponce de Leon and the Fountain of Youth, where the heck are you now.  I am in Florida, and definitely by what I see every day, it is not here.

I can see that my small mean mentality is very active.

So…there you have it…another episode in the life of “life only gets more interesting as you age.”  Shoot the imbecile that said that.

Pondering, but Happy Contessa

I’ve reached that age where my brain went from “you probably shouldn’t say or do that” to “what the hell, let’s see what happens.”  Wish I knew who said that.

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