We all know people who are “morning persons” and those who are “non-morning persons.” Morning people get up with a smile, look out the window and are happy about what they see—rain or shine. They are cheery to the bone, and nothing seems to get them down.

Then there are the non-morning people. They wake up grumpy and annoyed that they have to get up; they would a whole lot rather just stay in bed all day. Family members learn quickly to just let them sleep. For example, when I was living at home and going to school, Mom tried to be a good mother and make breakfast every morning. However, she hated to get up early, and I hated breakfast. So we made a deal: I was never hungry in the morning, so I drank a coffee-flavored protein drink for each day for breakfast. Mom could stay in bed, and I didn’t have to face breakfast. Done and done.

Often when people marry, they don’t always know in advance that their partner may be a non-morning person. It has to be quite a surprise when they find that out! Non-morning people don’t appreciate the cheeriness of those who do like mornings. In fact, I know people who stopped sleeping together just to avoid that morning conflict.

Now there no win or losing if you are not a morning person. Just as long as the other person knows this about you, it’s all good.

As Thumper the rabbit famously said to Bambi, “if you can’t say nuthin’ nice, don’t say nuthin’ at all.” I often post reviews of restaurants, stores, and even visits to my doctors on line; good service, good food, good doctor visits, etc. are well worth my time to post a good review. If I had a bad time, a bad meal, bad service or anything bad, I just don’t go back to the restaurant or doctor, etc. That’s my unspoken review; I just don’t go back.

Of course, if something is seriously wrong or dangerous, make sure that the powers that be know about it so that positive change can happen. I’m just talking about the pissers and moaners who love to post negative reviews for some tiny little thing that doesn’t mean crap. The wrong review can affect someone’s livelihood or pay check.

It always amazes me when people feel the need to vent online about the waitress who didn’t come running at their beck and call, the salad that didn’t have enough cheese on it, and any little thing that makes them feel like they didn’t get the supreme service they felt they should have gotten.

Sometimes I think that people who post these negative reviews just want attention. That’s sad. Where as good reviews can boost sales, get more people in the door and most of all, positively affect the people who are mentioned in the reviews. Why be snarky just for the hell of it?

And here’s the kicker: those of us who actually read those negative reviews just think that the writer is a self-serving, entitled whiny ass. I stick with Thumper’s good advice: “if you can’t say nuthin’ nice, don’t say nuthin’ at all.”

Well, just when you think that we learned how not to call any ship “unsinkable,” there is a guy out there who is constructing a Titanic II. From Emily Petsko:

“The Titanic II is the brainchild of Australian businessman Clive Palmer, who established a shipping company called Blue Star Line in 2012 in order to make the project a reality. The ship is under construction now and is expected to cost $500 million. It was originally slated to set sail in 2016, but financial issues delayed the departure first until 2018, and again until 2022.”

“After completing its journey to New York, the Titanic II will “circumnavigate the globe, inspiring and enchanting people while attracting unrivaled attention, intrigue, and mystery in every port she visits,” Palmer tells MSN.

“Tickets aren’t on sale yet, but keep an eye on the Blue Star Line website for updates.”

And here’s more:

“Titanic II Is Preparing to Set Sail in 2022, and You Can Be On Board”

BY EMILY PETSKO

I have medications I take each day, and when they are out of refill, I simply call my friendly neighborhood WalMart and order more. Usually it’s an easy process; call to refill, get the date to pick up, go get the meds; done and done. However, it isn’t always that simple.

When I see that I am low on this, that or the other thing, I call to refill. Of course some of them need doctor approval, and I’m fine with that. Once I hear the recorded message saying “your prescriptions are ready on (date/time),” I drive up to go get them. Easy-peasy, right? Well, not always.

The pharmacy system is not my system, so it always surprises me when I show up at the counter and ask for the meds I called in (and were told that they were ready) and: 1) they don’t have them yet, 2) it will be another hour to pick up, or 3) “we don’t have the doctor’s ok on this yet.” But they offer me one med that I didn’t ask for (because I still have plenty of them).

Look, I understand that the pharmacy is doing their job and that they have a ton of customers and they are busy, busy, busy. It’s just that when I re-order the meds I need (again, because I am nearly out of them), I expect that the meds I show up for will be ready.

Last year I was diagnosed with occasional AFIB, and my doc put me on Eliquis. I was a surprised as I never felt any heart flutters or whatever, but of course I took the new med my doc prescribed. A few months back, I noticed that I was nearly out of it, so I called for a refill. When I came to pick it up, the gal behind the counter looked at me as if I tried to murder a puppy in front of her.

She said, rather sternly: “why are you so low on this prescription? According to our records, you aren’t due for a refill for two weeks.” Two weeks?! That just wasn’t possible. I take one in the morning and one at night, and there was no way that I had taken more than the precribed dose.

I went home in tears, and the Crankee Yankee was furious about what happened. We happen to have a nice couple on our street who are both pharmicists. Both of them said that sometimes the pharmacists make a mistake and put in the wrong amount of pills; hey, it happens.

So we both went back to the pharmacy and asked if they could please pull up the record of my last refill, which should have been for 30 days (one in the morning and one at night, making it 60 pills). The pharmacist checked it, and sure enough, they had put in a 15-day supply!

Which just goes to show you, it doesn’t pay to be a smarty-pants and play the blame game when you yourself made the mistake. Check before you blame!

As we have been having a longish spell of hot and humid weather, we humans are sweating it out. But the garden loves the heat and is bursting with produce; endive, cucumbers, baby summer squash, tomatoes, peas and peppers.

While it’s fun to pick the fruits of our labor, we have learned to respect the bees who take their pollenating very seriously. While we are grateful for their help, at least one of us gets stung now and then. If I’m busy out there and a disgruntled bee stings me (and always on my left ear, for some reason), I’ve learned to just pick up some garden dirt, spit on it and put the mud on the sting. (You can also go inside and make a paste with baking soda and water, and apply that to the sting.)

I’m willing to bet that, if bees could talk they would have a snappish tone of voice and say loudly that their work is essential for the health and welfare of our planet. They do give us warning; that loud buzz means that they are working and need their space. They are trying to do important work and don’t want to be messed with by humans.

There is a wonderful web site called Beesponsible that gives you good information about bees and what they do for the environment. From the web site: ” Beesponsible means making a promise to bees and to the environment. A commitment that embraces the deep connection we share with bees and takes personal responsibility to help them. In the world today, this collective effort to Beesponsible may be one of a handful of ways we can make real change for bees. We’d like our kids to know bees, and our kids’ kids. That’s why we’re spreading the word on how to Beesponsible, so we all can help keep bees a healthy and thriving part of our lives.”

After reading this, I can better understand what our wonderful bees do for all of us and for the planet in general. I find that it’s worth a bee sting or two to remind me why they are here and all that they do for us. Sometimes it’s the smallest creature that makes the most difference.

If you read yesterday’s post, you’ll know that I had my gall bladder removed. It was a pleasure not to have any pain anymore; but of course I was given some pretty serious meds for pain. But as of right now, I feel great.

I have often written about our loved ones who have moved on. Not only do I feel that they are all with their loved ones (including pets of course) and of course all other people who have gone on. When I heard that one of my favorite authors, Pat Conroy, had died, I could just see my mother hurling herself at him and telling him how much she loved his books (me, too!).

When I came to after my surgery, I felt warmth and comfort in Recovery. Of course, the wonderful staff there always cover you up in a nice warm blanket, but this was more. It almost felt like loving hands were on my own hands and arms; I could almost hear comforting whispers in my ears as well.

You can certainly write all that off because of the drugs I was given, but my heart and mind tell me that it was my mom and dad checking up on me. This isn’t the first time, either. I believe that, when our loved ones move on from human bodies to spirit form, they can indeed pop in for a visit to us. All I can tell you was that I felt surrounded by love, not only from my parents, but from dear friends who sent me prayers.

I woke up completely, feeling the little wisps of love and comfort. I knew that my loved ones were with me, making sure that I was all right. And by the way, I feel great!

Wish me luck; this morning I’m having my gall bladder removed. It’s long and boring history includes pain in front and in back, several tiny stones, and a whole lot of Tylenol. If the damn thing could talk, it would only bitch and moan, and who needs to hear that?

Sometimes I think that our organs have secret meetings together just to raise a little hell. I get it; it can’t be a whole lot of fun hanging around in my body with nothing much to do but their God-given jobs…so of course one or two of them will cause trouble out of sheer boredom.

Of course, these days having a crabby gall bladder removed is a pretty easy surgery as they do it laproscopically. The whole procedure is less than one hour. They make a few small incisions and virtually suck the offending organ right out. Way back before there was laproscopic surgery, you ended up having a big scar. With all the surgeries my mom went through, she always called it her living road map. And who knows? Perhaps in a few years you may be able to simply take a pill for most surgeries.

And by the way? I’ve always enjoyed meeting my anesthesiologist for any surgeries I’ve had; I’ve never met one who wasn’t funny. So there’s that to look forward to. So, this morning when you are enjoying that first delicious cup of coffee, think of me and start laughing. Because I’ll be laughing all the way to the operating table, where they will be damn glad to shut me up.

Buh bye, old gall bladder!