Was hearing good old stories today. My grandmother was friends with the Stonickers. They all lived in Charleston, West Virginia. Mrs. Stonicker lay in bed most of the day. When she finally got up she would get dressed and go downtown for a chocolate soda. Then she's sit on a straight-back chair in the back of her husband's pharmacy. This was her daily routine, her life. She was the original Mover and Shaker. Yikes. Oh, she would make her bed, we think.

She didn't worry about cooking. Every night her husband would ask, What's for dinner? Every night she would drawl, A bah-NAH-na. Every night he would declare, I'm tired of eating bananas for dinner!

I don't know, when I heard that it sent me cleanly over the edge.

Their little daughter Marjorie lived on choclate ice cream in the drug store, her teeth turned into little black stubs. She visited my grandmother A LOT. Of course, poor little Marjorie Stonicker grew up to be the kind of housekeeper who kept her ketchup and mustard in the bathtub.

Oh, and Mrs. Stonicker would say, Mr. Stonicker is so little I have to shake the bed sheets to find him; why, he's smaller than a flea's toenail. People, that's small.

Mrs. Stonicker's sister dated a man named Muddy Grubbs. They dated every night close to forever. The woman would pick Muddy up each evening and bring him to her house for dinner. Muddy had it made. (Unless, of course, she was a one recipe woman and her repertoire consisted exclusively of serving bahNAHnas for dinner, like her sister.) They never married, of course (I'm beginning to sound like Mr. Ed). I don't know who would have gotten the shorter end of that matrimony stick, Muddy suffering bahNAHna dinners 365 days a year, and that, dear friends, only the beginning, or the bride getting stuck with the name Mrs. Muddy Grubbs . . . permanently.

Sweet Tulsa said she wants the house for sale in Driftwood, if I could kindly lend her a piddly $750,000.

I hope I don't forget to watch First Love Second Chance tomorrow night.

My vacuum story ended up smelling like a rose. I went back the next day and said, Hello, the old hepa filter made the new vacuum cleaner smell like rancid burned up smoke, good 'n charred. The nice young girl power vacuumed my hepa filter and said it wouldn't hurt anything as it was an EXHAUST filter, filtering air blowing out from the motor, not sucking bad baby air into the motor. Whew. And the black soot was really from this black felt filter between the hepa filter and the vents. You don't say.

Then I said, That's good, and I can't stand the floor "brush" that scrapes and scratches across the tile like a teacher's fingernails across the chalkboard. No, thank you. The girl totally agreed and traded it out for a lovely soft, quiet bristle brush, like my old beloved vac, way easier to maneuver, too. Then, to be nice, I bought a longish attachment brush that will do baseboards and just cover more area quicker, like when vacuuming the sofa. Don't you just love gettin' an education in vacuums?

But that's not all. She let me bring Jazzi in the store. (Jazzi disappeared into back rooms while I was talking.) So we started talking dog. The bottom line is that Bill-Jac dog food cured her dog of the itch instantly and once and for all. This is BIG. Of course, now I have a 10 pound bag of Science food from the vet, bought two days before this Bill-Jac revelation. I have to use that up, but you'd better bet your bottom dollar that I'm giving Bill-Jac a whirl next. Poor Jazzi, she's so utterly smothered in pollen and rolls around and thrashes on the floor.

The other day a beautiful colored car passed me on the road. I said to myself, I have to catch up to that car and see what dashing color it is, it appeared to be some new exquisite shade of deep green. At the stoplight I pulled up next to it and it was an exquisite shade of green all right. The car was black and it was dusted with pollen. The black coming through the yellow-green pollen made it look like some funky dark green. Listen, I need my eyes checked.

Midnight, 9 hours 'til the next monkey stuff. He signs all his Facebook posts with Zoom-Zoom or Swing-Swing. Cute little monkey. I'll bet he'd love a bahNAHna for dinner every night. Yum-Yum.

KEM owns a new purse, it's extremely loud, Shout-Shout.