DAZE OF AULD LANG SYNE

What a year it has been! Unsettling to be sure, like a roller coaster ride. One minute you are on top of the world and the next minute, the bottom drops out and you can't see around the next curve, but you know in reason that it is going to get worse before it gets better. 2008--you were great! Recession, election, aggression. You turned us topsy-turvy with all the changes. Worries, hurries and flurries. Intense, suspense, expense. Yep, one thing for sure, it was not a boring year. 2009---will we be fine? Work, work, work. We all need work. Jobs, and homes, and cars. Pride and patriotism again. Pull-together people. Learn from our mistakes. Dear God, please help America be great again. Guide us! How blessed we are, how blessed we'll be, in the land of the brave and the home of the free. Welcome!

NASHVILLE, TN.

Hi, Y'all! I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas. I certainly did, because it was spent with the family I love so much, mine! We had a peaceful, relaxed evening with my son, daughter and her family and my sweetie. Last year we had a houseful of guests at her house but she had to work until Christmas evening, so we did not invite anyone this year except family. As usual, too much food was prepared, and I'm sure we all ate way too much. At least I did. I will have to diet for months to make up for it. It was so enjoyable, though. Since both boys are older, we got to watch them get Santa gifts on Christmas eve. Lots of electronic gadgets and games, which they loved. I enjoyed seeing them excited. I was blessed this year with gifts I love and appreciate, but then I always do appreciate them. My daughter gave me a long, cream-colored coat for church, and a much needed set of Oneida silverware (12 place settings!) and my sweetie gave me a big set of "Beauiful" cologne, with cosmetic case and goodies, trousers and shirt, and a gift certificate for the sales after. But my big surprise was an all expense paid long weekend in Nashville, Tn. My son took us, the seven hour trip was rainy, but we found gas for 1.39, the cheapest for us yet. Our suite at the Hilton was great, walking distance to Country Music Hall of Fame, and Opry at the Rhyman, for which DS had got tickets. Since my sweetie and I love country music among other types of music, we enjoyed the museum so much. I did not expect it to be as big as it was and as nice. We spent an entire afternoon there and did not see it all. The show at the Rhyman was fantastic. I was excited that Keith Urban was performing, as he is one of my favorites. He did not let us down, he was incredible. Nicole's family was visiting them and all were in the audience. We got to see several others; Jett Williams (Hank Williams,Sr,'s lost daughter), ( story there) Juliette Hough(from Dancing with the Stars) , Jamey Johnson, Chuck Weiss, Riders in the Sky, and other regulars on the Grand Old Opry. And a fairly new group, Cherryholmes, that I thought was very good. The acoustics at the Rhyman are great, so I was not disappointed that the show was not at the new Opry. I had been to the Rhyman a few times spaced over the past thirty years, and it was like visiting an old friend. We ate once at a honkey-tonk barbecue place, close to the Orchid Lounge. A mistake, since it was late evening. The next morn we ate at Pancake Pantry, another N-Ville tradition. We love the one in Gatlinburg and this one was excellent, also. Sunday morning, we went to the Opryland Hotel and it is even bigger than I remembered. We had brunch at Watersedge in the Cascades section. The dancing waters fountain was right at our table. The geysers with music is a trifle hypnotic, but so relaxing. Seeing all the beautiful flowers and trees in full bloom was such a welcome sight after the cold spell we have had. But speaking of weather, Mother Nature cooperated wonderfully. Saturday was a blissful 72 and Sunday, though cooler, was still very pleasant. Kids, of course, were in short sleeve t-shirts. It must be a universal trait to hate jackets until you are 30! All in all, it was a weekend that I enjoyed tremendously, thanks to a wonderful son who knows his Mama so well. My grandson, the one who got the bad burn, is gone back to the surgeon today to determine whether he will need a skin graft on his foot. I am praying that the healing is more than satisfactory at this stage. That would be the greatest gift I could get before 2009. My late husband's brother passed away Christmas and we were unable to attend funeral today as the family lives in Texas but our heart goes out to them as holidays are always hard after someone passes. I hate to end this exuberant posting on a sad note, but if we need any reminder to show family and friends that we love them , this is it. Not just at Christmas , but everyday, we need to say "I love you, I appreciate you, and you are a valued part of my life." And not just say it, show it in our actions. Then we can truly enjoy each day, every day, one day at a time! God bless you all and I love you, my friends.

I really do not know where this entry will go. I feel the need to
express the whirlwind of random thoughts that occupy my mind
at the present time. But I am not sure how to frame them in a neat
concise way so that they are not perceived as discordant notes from
a fragmented mind. None are significant, yet none are irrelevant.
Usually when I reach this state of mind, I write a poem. Poetic
liscence enables me to express the bubbling, churning well-spring
of emotions and ideas that form and rise unbidded to the surface.

Many of the things I could write about are important only to
me, and not to my few but faithful readers. Do I bother them
with the mundane descriptions of my everyday life, reveal
my innermost thoughts and passions, or should I relegate this
blog to topics that are generally acceptable, such as the weather?

I am a modest, private person, often hesitant to allow close
friends to enter that inner sanctum. Yet, I yearn for close friends
who accept me as I am, with all my eccentricities and minor
phobias. Yet, that invites criticism and I shield my id from
anything but constructive criticism. Or what I construe as
constructive criticism. Too sensitive? Yes, I am. I was often
urged by professors to publish my poetry and essays, but I
could never bring myself to make that first appearance with
creations that I deemed less than perfect. Much less.

Through this blog, I have embraced the fact that even less
than perfection can be valued and accepted. A venture that
started out to be a cataloging of events in a mediocre life has
brecome a vehicle of expressing personal emotions and ideas.
For that, I am thankful. And when I am gone, someone,
somewhere, may know and remember that I existed. That
I was here and that I was glad that I was.

Oh, golly! That's profound. Get me out of here and into
a lighter realm. Next time, I promise.... well, maybe, humor?

ACCIDENTS HAPPEN

My daughter called last night to tell me she had made a trip to the ER clinic with my youngest grandson, who is eleven. She went on to tell us the reason. She picked the boys up after school, the older one had basketball practice at 6:00 so they decided to stay in town until then. The younger one asked for hot chocolate so she stopped at a fast food place to get it. I think she went through the drive-through. Any way, he had the styrofoam cup in the back seat when they started through a traffic light and she had to stop suddenly. The lid came off when it tumbled onto his foot, sending the scalding hot chocolate into his shoe. She stopped to see how bad it was, but the light was dim and it had not blistered yet, so she took him on home, crying. When they arrived, she saw that it was a very bad burn. Twelve large blisters had raised and the whole foot was red. (He counted them) She at once took him to the clinic and they treated the foot and bandaged it. He had a second degree burn. He told me that the Doctor said that he had the biggest blister he had ever seen. He repeated this to me somewhat proudly. They told him to miss two days school and then they would dress it and reevaluate it. My son wanted to take me there at once but daughter said she would stay with him today and I could come tonight and stay with him tomorrow as she had meetings scheduled she should not miss. A burn hurts so bad, he needs a little petting from Nana. He called me this morning to come so his mother could go pick up crutches for him. (She told me to wait) The sweetest thing, though, he said, "Nana, I want you to talk to Mom. She is beating herself up over this, saying it was her fault, and it was not ." So I got her on the phone and told her what he said, and she did sound low, so I told her that Accidents Happen to everyone, no matter how cautious they try to be. Both of us are over-protective and guilt-ridden if anything happens. She has so much on her mind all the time, trying to work and be SuperMom , too. It is such a hectic season, also. We are having terrible wind here today. It will almost knock you off your feet. I went out to retrieve various things that had blown from my yard, across the road into the field. Lawn chair cushion, emptied flower planter, garbage can lid, and metal dog dish among the items I picked up! A cold, fierce wind that is much worse than March is blowing. I hurried back in as fast as I could . So much for my porch decorating. It will have to wait. Is there a hurricane on the coast? Hope you have a happy, safe and healthy holiday season. One day at a time!

PAMPERED, .......BUT (butt?)

My bachelor son and I share a home. He has a full apartment on the ground floor while I reside upstairs. We finished the upstairs of our split level home first and lived there while we completed the ground floor. We eventually took the double car garage and changed it into a multi-use great room for him. After his father passed away, he continued to live there (seven years now). He had moved back leaving a successful career in Cincinatti, to be with ailing father and grandfather. He dated a classmate through college, law school, and two years employment. (She also became a lawyer.) Our family was fond of her. The relationship could not endure a long distance romance and with no desire to relocate, it ended suddenly eight years ago. Since then, he dated a doctor steadily (eight years now) while they both got their practices going and just recently, their relationship seems to have reached a stalemate. Seven-year itch? An ultimatium? We do not know what the pivotal point was, he is such a private person. Anyway, for now at least, he is a somewhat disgruntled tenant, stressed to the maximum. His usual pleasant demeanor changing to critical complaints makes me wonder about it and worry that somehow his living here is getting the blame for his present predictament. For instance, I had to take towels into his bathroom yesterday, and noticed that there was no tissue on the shelf. I went upstairs, got some of mine and placed it on the holder. Later on, after work, this was his gripe, "Can't we at least buy decent toilet tissue? That stuff you buy is not fit for service station restrooms." I reply, "Just trying to keep a few bucks from going down the drain." So, he retorts, "Oh, no! I can't wait for you to get off that frugal kick. Ever since you heard the word recession, all I've heard is save, save,save. If a lawyer can't afford Charmin, he ought to change professions." That got my dander up and I snapped back, "How do you think you got that education? By us cutting corners and saving?" Later, I sheepishly added, "I know you worked all through school, and then still took student loans, so you should know it does not come easy." To that he replied, "Oh, no, here comes your favorite phrase, 'Poor people have poor ways!' '' Mom, you have not been "poor" for at least 50 years, (since you married Dad). Why do you still believe you are.? " I didn't say, "Well, I thought I was for sixteen years prior to that." He said, "Here we go again. The old outhouse with the Sears, Roebuck catalogue hard times tale!" Later that day, still fuming from his unusual outburst, I thought to myself, "Yes, I lived with parents those years who had endured the Great Depression and survived on their frugal ways." They paid cash on the barrelhead or did without until they could afford something. I was privileged to raise my children in a loving family in good economic times. They never realized any struggles that we might have had financially. But with my firstborn I can remember hanging her cloth diapers on the clothesline in freezing weather, They froze dry. Now, with my son, Pampers had come along. And so began the Pampered generation. Maybe that it to blame for the present panic felt by an economy doing a nosedive. Pampers, thats it. Wonder what he will tell his children (if he ever has any) about hard times when he was little. I can imagine it something like this: "Would you believe we didn't even have wind- shield wipers on the commodes or hiney blow- dryers? I don't know how we survived those hard times and that awful toilet paper." Well, I have vented now and feel better. I do not mean that I do not fully appreciate all he does.. I love him with all my heart , and I know he loves me, also. Now, if he could just quit smoking.....................! the blame for his present predictament.

TREASURE HUNT

Well, I've done it again! My annual treasure hunt is underway. This tradition is many ,many years in the making and has become such a customary part of our holidays that it has even extended to birthdays and anniversaries. You see, I start shopping early for gifts, when I am out somewhere and something catches my eye that I think a family member or friend will like. Even if the event to cele- brate is months away, I squirrel it away, to bring out and wrap at he proper time. I have a large, two-story house, but it has become filled to the max throughout my many years of receiving gifts from my family and friends. Being overly senti- mental and slightly superstitious, I seldom part with gifts given to me, regardless of the price or age of item. (I still have the plaster handprints, the hand-made cards, and painted ornaments that my children made thirty and forty years ago.) That's just the kind of mother that I am. Though my head tells me to part with things, when it comes to discarding my treasures, I cling to them as if they were living instead of just things. (Not only mine, but my children's trove of memorabilia.) My closets are filled with ancient cheerleading outfits, sports equipment, love letters, and such keepsakes from their school years. I tried to give Daughter all her treasure but she does not want clutter in her new house. "You keep it for me, Mom. The boys may want to see it someday." To which I reply, "Okay, but when I'm gone, you will have one heckava time sorting it out. You'll have to get one of those dumpsters park in the driveway for a month or so." This tears at my heart because not too long ago, we went through the same thing at my mother's house when both parents had passed away and the house need to be emptied for sale. My sister and I spent weeks sorting and sitting crying while we looked at things she had collected. It prolonged the grief , I suppose, but it also brought back many precious memories of our childhood. I think memories are the best to collect and as we get older, they sometimes slip to\ the back of our minds and need to be refreshed by a aged photo or doo-dad. I said all this to say that my house is full. Even though it is big, closets, drawers, bookcases, Everything is full, so when I start stashing my Christmas gifts, I have to search for places to put them. I have six , long , narrow drawers under a king- sized waterbed that can hold small things, I put jewely boxes, colognes and other small thing in there for safe keeping. I resolved this year to only buy small things which are usually more expensive anyway, so that they could be easily wrapped and stored, then transported to their varied recipients. GOOD PLAN, if it worked. Then, when I was dining one day in fall at Cracker Barrel, I came upon a fine set of horshoes in a wooden carrying case, and a neat croquet set which my sweeties DD had admired, but passed over even though they were both half price. Aha! A good gift for her family, that could be enjoyed for many summers. So, I went back later and bought both of them with smug pleasure. I could mark that off my Christmas list. When I got home, I realized that I needed a place to store them until time for giving, and I began to look around for a place. Several places occured to me that were large enough to hold them, but when I went there, they were either full or not big enough. Finally, I must have found a place where they would not be in my way for months. I dunno. Friday, as I prepared for my trip to sweetie's DD's home for their annual dinner and gift exchange, I needed to wrap their presents. And so it began! The treasure hunt. Now, it started out fun but as I could not remember which of the places I had finally stashed them, it turned frantic. As the day progressed, I changed from a leisurely packing organizer to a frantic madwoman, tearing madly from place to place, searching every nook and cranny for the elusive gifts. I left behind a trail of jumbled closets, opened suitcases , boxes and bags that would take me a month to repack. So much for my early planning. I finally despaired of finding them, and thought I'd have to go shopping , but I finally put together a collection of gifts intended for others to take to them. I may find them in time for her February birthday. When I called my daughter later and related my frantic search, she said in a matter- of-fact tone, "So, what else is new? Mom, you have been doing this as long as I can remember." And she is right, darn it. I reminded her that it all began because Santa could not hide her gifts anywhere she coud not forage them out of and secretly play with for some time before Christmas. She knew all my hiding places and I had to be really creative to elude her prying eyes. She said, "Oh, but it was such fun. It made it last a long long time. And I learned to rewrap gifts so neatly, so that you didn't suspect." Yes, I did suspect and finally, one Christmas, at a loss for anywhere she could not get at, I had resorted to leaving them locked in the trunk of the car. That Christmas eve, the children were so excited that they could not go to sleep. We waited and waited for silence so that we could retrieve the Santa gifts from the car. Finally, Hubby went off to sleep and I was left to handle it alone. It was bitterly cold, near zero, and an icy snow had fallen, making the driveway slick. I bundled up and gingerly made my way to the car, thinking I could do it in two or three trips. To my surprise, the key would not turn in the icy lock. I fumbled frantically until my fingers were frozen and the tears on my cheeks had frozen also. I even tried pouring a pan of hot water over it to no avail. I went back inside and awakened Hubby with my panicked tale. He said, "I'll get up at daylight and try to get them out." I was awakened the morning of Christmas Day by two excited children who had run down to see an empty tree, cookies not eaten. I will never forget the look on their faces as they felt it had finally happened, they had been so bad that Santa had forgot them. My desperate Hubby, who had overslept , had to wait almost until noon before he could thaw the lock. Santa was sure running late that year. A memorable Christmas, for the wrong reasons. My DD assured that they had already known who supplied Santa, but that was the night my Hubby and I stopped believing in him. When we talked about this experience yesterday and the lost gifts, my daughter reassured me, "Mom, thats as much a tradition for me as any other. You pull out hidden gifts for a month after Christmas. I actually look forward to it." I guess I will continue to hide them from myself, Despite all my scourging myself about being less sentimental and more organized, I hope they like me this way. I'm too old to change now. Happy holidays, especially Merry Christmas. I

GLAD TIDINGS

I am so happy to be home again. I feel as if I have been away much too long, even though my little jaunts have mostly consisted of short trips and overnighters at my daughters home, I am ready for some home and hearth. I have finished my Christmas shopping and I will not be traveling much as the roads become more treacherous. Time to hibernate? Well, maybe, because the cold weather really cause old Arthur to kick up his heels. Arthritis is no fun and that bad knee gives away sometimes. I do not need a fall. Anyway, here I am, back to blogging and reading blogs. Tis the season to be jolly, and with all the family feasting that we will enjoy, I am hard-pressed to keep my fellow and I on a diabetic diet. For instance, at his family's party this weekend, I had to pass up old-fashioned stack cake, prune cake, NY style cheesecake, coconut creme pie, and cookies galore. His daughter is good at baking and everything looked so good. I was proud of my willpower, and had turkey, dressing and veggies! So hard to diet during holidays! I so enjoyed being with the three little girls, ages 6, 4, and 2, The twin boys are 17 months old. Little ones bring freshness and life to a family gathering. The six-year old girl is a drama queen with a big imagination. She passed gold wrapped candy coins to all of the adults without telling what she wanted us to do with them. Then she sat down and rang a little bell. I realized that she had been impressed with seeing the workers for the Salvation Army ringing their little bells and had asked to hear about them. Such a sweet thing for her to play-act. The play she is in at her church was tonight but we needed to come home. I wished we could have stayed for it. I hope I never reach the point where I am annoyed to be around children as some older folk do. My sweetie and his grandson had their usual political debate which ended as usual in a draw. Neither one will give up on changing the others affiliation and they keep trying. They are equally stubborn but mainly, I think they just enjoy the debating. I am hoping for a break in this cold spell as I have not done outside decorating yet. I have new pre-lit garlands to hang on the porch railings with big red velvet bows. I think Tuesday is supposed to have the best weather this week, so I may do it then. I hate to wait much longer, as most of the houses are already decorated. Look so pretty at night. I must cut this posting a little short as it is late, and I need to get some rest as I have a lot to do tomorrow. I always have to catch up after taking time away from home. The happy greeting I got from my pooches when I got home let me know that I had been missed. I could hardly get out of the car because they were so overjoyed to see me. For now, I will bid you good-night and good morning as it is close to one a.m. Have a good week and enjoy life, one day at a time. God bless each and everyone and the U.S.A.

THE COUNTDOWN BEGINS

Twenty-five days and counting. I am going to try to find my little calendar that counts down the days. It is beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Hey, that would be a good song title, wouldn't it? Or lyric, but I think someone beat me to it. My first Black Friday, my daughter talked me into going with her. I always dreaded the crowds, and the the terrible tales about the rudeness of shoppers almost made me not go again. But there I was right in the midst of it. We had elected to shop in the smaller shopping center with a Walmart instead of the super Walmart nearby. I heard later that it was hectic there but surprisingly, the ones we encountered were very nice and polite. I got quite a bit of my shopping done, and enjoyed a nice lunch with my daughter. Believe me, I did not have to be rocked to sleep that night. The snow is softly falling outside, and I think it is too wet to accumulate, but I may wake up to a winter wonderland tomorrow. Right now, I think I will enjoy a nice cup of hot chocolate and snuggle in to read a while.

COLD TURKEY

We've had it. Up to here. (pointing to throat!) Thanksgiving dinner, that is. And it was wonderful. My daughter, with her husband's help, prepared almost all the meal. He is a great help in the kitchen. I had volunteered my assistance but I had a bad night with very little sleep (arthritis, that has been aggravated by our latest cold spell). I fell asleep sometime around daylight and it was ten o'clock before I arose. Thankfully, I had already prepared my part of the feast before bedtime. I had cornbread stuffing, broccoli casserole , and a fruit tray in the fridge. (I thought I was getting off easy with the fruit tray, but I realized later how time consuming it is to prepare one. But it was pretty, colorful and appreciated. My picky grandson so loves all fruits and melons. This week I went through my Lecture #12, (according to my daughter) about being frugal and not preparing too much food, as we usually do. With the economy being so scary, I doubled up on the intensity. To which Kammy replied, "Now, Mom, I only have one way of cooking for company, Food and lots of it." And she is a great cook, taught by my mother. I can't take credit for that. And what a spread it was! Turkey, ham, smashed potatoes/gravy, stuffing, cranberry salad, chicken tetrazzini, green beans, corn, birthday cake( my sweetie's), pumpkin and apple pies, rolls, and punch. She had asked what my boy friend likes and I had said sweet potato casserole but she forgot to buy them and made a whipped carrot casserole that tasted almost exactly like the yam one. Even fooled my sweetie. Did we overindulge? Of course! But I observed my daughter loading up the left-overs so that each family could take some home for supper. They took plates to their bachelor neighbor, and still had enough to eat for a day or two for themselves. It may have gone to waist, but for sure, it did not go to waste. There was a feeling of great thankfulness for the years bounty and God's blessings for us. We prayed for the safety of the twin son who is now is Iraq. Hopefully he will be there with his brother, who has already returned from Iraq, next Thanksgiving. A career man, this is his second tour there. We had dinner on Sunday, instead of Thursday, so that some could be with parents on that day. One parent just got out of the hospital, and could not come but they will be with him on Thanksgiving. I am re- minded by my children that the last ten years of my mother's lifed, she sweetly told us that each holiday might be her last one to spend with us. Until it finally was. However, my parent's presence is felt, in observing the rich traditions and warm family fellowship that we cherish so much.

(That warm turkey was wonderful, but

I am looking forward to sandwiches for

lunch today, and I haven't even had my

breakfast yet.) Happy Thanksgiving, to

all my friends and journalers, where-ever

you are. Give thanks!

ODDS AND ENDS

You may have guessed from the title that this will be a scatter-brained posting, for lack of a major topic. My mind and conversation often flit from one unrelated item to another and this is one of those times. Fair warning! Why do appliances pick the worst times to go beserk? My water heater is out. I think it needs new elements and the plumber I use is very busy at this time. Two days now, I have heated water on the stove for dishes, sponge baths, and the constant hand washing that occurs so much. They say you don't miss the water till the well runs dry. Well, I can attest to the fact that I miss HOT running water very much. I finally figured out that my dishwasher heats the water itself if it isn't hot enough. I'm tempted to climb in for a hot shower. Anyone that wants to go back to the good ol' days, be my guest. I'll stay mod, thank you! My daughter informed me that my grandsons are going to the football game Saturday with their hot-blooded Dad. (Cold weather does not phase him in the least.) Plus , he has the theory that his boys need "toughening up". Gr-r-r! I objected, of course, even though the game is against their major rival, who is the only team to defeat the boy's school team all year. It is the play-offs, but not worth getting sick for the holidays. Last week they parked on the knoll overlooking the stadium and tail-gated. The boys soon got cold and wisely watched most of the game from the truck. When I fret about the boy's nonchalant father, my honey chides me about being "over-protective", and I get to hear once again how he was sent by his mother ,as his father lay dying from double pneumonia, to cut the ice in the pond so that their animals could get to water. (This was a FIVE-YEAR OLD BOY!) I questioned the veracity of this tale until his eighty-seven year old mother told me that it was true, indeed. She must have seen how incredulous I looked, because she went on the tell me that it was January, and she was expecting her third child at any time. They lived on a remote farm and the doctor had not been able to get to them. Penicillin and other antibiotics were not even discovered until years later. Neighbors tried to carry his father out to the distant highway that day, but sadly, he passed away that day at age twenty-eight. His mother said, "I had to think about the living. My three young children depended on me. (HIs youngest sister was born three weeks after her father died.) and they would need the animals desperately." I admired the bravery of this woman and she worked all her life, (with the help of that dear little boy) , and raised three fine children. You have to admire the spunk of these pioneer women. And sixty-plus years later, I still see signs of the courage, bravery, and character that was instilled in them. He also said that the only store-bought toy he ever owned was a Red Flyer wagon his dad had bought him the year he died. He hauled firewood for the family for the next ten years in that wagon. Are we not a spoiled generation? Yes, I admit I paid sixty dollars for a video game for my boys last night for Christmas. And it wasn't even an educational one at that. (Sigh!) I guess we all do to the best of our abiliy at the moment. I also contributed to the Needy Children fund at the church last night and so I feel somewhat vindicated. We have taught the boys to be givers also and they pass on toys and clothing. Times are getting rough for some again and we may see a return to the frugal ways of the past. In the meantime, on a lighter note, I do so enjoy these things: 1. Big navel oranges and tangerines. 2. A warm house instead of winter woolies. 3. Truffles and Lady Godiva instead of chocolate covered cherries that I always got from the Christmas name-drawing. 4. Soft-soap and Caress bath bars, (tropical scented) instead of home-made lye soap, even though it cured everything. 5. My sweetie, (who just now called to say that he is on the way over to my house with two new elements for the water heater.) I have a lot more to be thankful for, that I will write about later, but for now, one thing is FOR SURE and certain" "LITTLE THINGS MEAN A LOT". Bless your heart!

SIBLING RIVALRY

My grandsons never cease to amaze me! The sibling rivalry that seems to motivate them to excel is so strong that while it can be exasperating when it becomes intense can at times be humorous, even touching. Rivalry is never more evident than when they are confined together in the back seat of a car. The close quarters brings on the bickering and boredom adds to the mix. McCaleb, the younger, is always competing with his three-year older brother. Always trying to measure up to his brother in sports and academics puts him on the defensive. A sample of this was observed last week., when they were being driven to one of their many after-school activities. After they had indulged in a little good-natured thumb wrestling, a moment of quiet ensued. Then, McCaleb observed seriously, "Tyler, I know that I am going to be rich when I grow up, but I am not so sure about you." To which Tyler replied , a little annoyed, "That really boosts my confidence, Bub, glad you shared that with me." Their mother had to smile wryly in the front seat, while trying to maintain her composure. This is the kid who pestered his Nana into agreeing to buy him a Lotus Elise if he gets into Harvard. He may have illusions of grandeur or else he is a dreamer. Anyhow, he has plans and for now anyway that keeps him focused. His brother is more the realist. He wants to be a doctor after a camp experience that let him observe two weeks in a local hospital. Another time, McCaleb told him, "Tyler, you don't have much imagination. I believe I have twice as much imagination as you do." ( He is forever drawing the interior of buildings, or spacecraft or such.) They are both great kids. I look at them and try to imagine their future. I hope to be around to see them succeed and live out their dreams. If possible, I will be there one way or the other. In the meantime I am looking around. Do you know anyone with a Lotus Elise for sale at a give-away price? I could store it away for a few years.

SPOIL SPORT!

I am a spoil sport. I have been accused of it, I admit it, guilty as charged. Relegated by age and physical condition to enjoy only spectator sports, I am a fan of basketball, baseball, and even football, provided I can watch from the safety of my seat in the stadium or my comfy living room. I have watched hockey and rugby a few times, but they have become too rough for me. The sight of blood alarms me to no end, and an ambulance parked at a sporting event chills me to the bone. I have not encouraged my son or my grandsons to participate, fearing that academics might take second place to sports. All three have played team basketball, while Nana cringed at flying elbows, and falls, not even to mention unsportsmanlike behavior. I have been regaled with the possibilities of getting big scholarships and handsome salaries as a professional, but I, for one remain unconvinced. Okay, so I am a scaredy-cat. especially where my kiddos are concerned. My husband had to persuade me to allow my son to get B-B guns and motorbikes, well past the age that his friends aquired these coveted possessions. Needless to say, I said, "I told you so", when he got a broken arm playing baseball and got hit by a car on the dirtbike. (MEN! And their toys!) I told the above so you would understand how unsettled I became to hear that my son, now a mature adult, had made an effort to conceal the fact that he had gone on a hunting trip this week. From me, at least. He told me that it was because he knew I would worry. I did not tell him that I worried anyway, thinking he was being evasive because he was going to a doctor for tests. Overactive imagination. He said, "I killed a deer." I thought to myself, "Is this my son who cried his eyes out at eleven when he shot at a bird and accidentally killed it?" I said "Oh, no! You killed Bambi?" I implied, "How could you?" He knows that I cannot bear to kill anything, even an ant. He asked me if I thought it was wrong to hunt, even if the meat was dressed out for food. I told him, "No, the Bible says it is lawful to eat meat, except for creepy, crawly things." The dietary laws of the Old Testament were given for the good of mankind, in a time when there was no refrigeration and sanitation. I think they still may be a good thing to follow. Some were ethical, such as not stewing the meat of an animal in its mother's milk. Noone likes a good hamburger, steak or poultry more than I, yet I do feel we would be better off to be vegetarian and legume eaters. I fear that hormones and chemicals used in animals are threatening to our health. I told my son that I read recentlly that pregnant women and children under six should not eat venison killed with lead shot. I asked, "Do you enjoy killing a helpless animal?" He said, "Of course not, even though I am pretty good at it. a lot more get away than I kill, and I must admit that I was glad I did not get that big buck with the huge rack." He said, "It is more about the camraderie, friends telling tall tales at the lodges." I knew in reason that was the true reason for going. Since he lost his father, I feel he yearns for male com- panionship more than before, even though his father had an aversion to hunting similar to mine. I even at that time felt a little smug pity for "hunting widows" because their husbands were absent so much indulging in that sport. I realize that without hunters the game would overpopulate and become a nuisance or a threat, but I still cannot help but be repulsed by this sport. Some may consider it akin to bullfighting, gamecock fighting and such. Am I being hypo- critical to feel this way, while still eating meat? I do not eat fish, but I enjoy fishing. (I rationalized that Jesus had fisherman disciples, and fed the multitude with loaves and fishes.) I just do not like fish, but I think it is a healthy choice to substitute for meat. I have always prided myself with the idea that my children could tell me anything. The lines of communication were always open, and we shared good news along with bad. I do not want them to keep secrets from me because I am judgmental. However, they know how I feel about certain issues, and if it is important enough to them to disregard my wishes, then more power to them. I raised them right, Now they are adult and make their own choices. But , Please, God, guide them and direct their paths.

BLESSINGS ABOUND!

Doom and gloom in the news has many of us wearing long faces and moaning and groaning about the prospects ahead. You notice that I included myself in that category? I received my "comeupance" at prayer meeting last night. I had allowed fear to creep in ( that old demon), and I was falling into the habit of counting my problems instead of my blessings. That is easy for me to do with winter coming on, which brings an automatic greyness to my moods. Bu-u-t--------------------- ! The first thing that happened was so uplifting that my bleak outlook changed instantly! The sister of my dear friend and co-worker got up first to testify. She had wonderful news! My friend, stricken with Legionairre's Disease and complications, had been comatose for two months. Little hope for her recovery had been extended to her spouse and son. The dreaded words, that I despise,"just a vegetable", were even uttered. B-u-u-t............. Praise be to God, she awakened and told her son that she had to get home and take her sister to Wal-mart! Naturally, her son, our little preacher at church, was so exhilarated he could hardly contain himself. On further conversing, it was determined that her memory of several years was affected. She thinks her son is her brother and that she is still a young, unmarried girl, but, the hopes that she can regain those years and be restored to health are just bubbling over in all of us. It was a joyous prayer service and I felt like I was walking on clouds of glory! The pastor stressed that much as we all want to be independent and self-sufficient, we are really dependent on God's mercy for even the next breath we take. When we surrender our will to His, He is able to accomplish great things in our lives. We are truly blessed as a people in a great nation and we need to return to an attitude of gratitude for the privileges that we enjoy and often take for granted. We have received a wake-up call with the failing of monetary things and institutions. We need to get back to the basic ideals that made us a great nation. The very idea that the words "In God we Trust" be taken off our money is indicitive of the decline and erosion of our values. We respect freedom of worship and all beliefs, but our founding fathers built this nation on those very words. I may have to battle depression in the months ahead, but I am not alone. God did not promise that we would not have trials, only that He would sustain us and help us to overcome them. I believe that everything works together for good to them that love the Lord and obey his Word. In the still of the night,, when I am burdened with issues that seem to have no answer, let me count my many, many blessings, and trust God in all things.

DAWN OF A NEW ERA

Do you feel a little letdown after all the adrenaline rush of yesterday? I do, and even though it is a relief to have it decided and over, having all the hoop-la end is kinda an anti-climax. Of course, we were a little oversaturated with political propaganda. The media blitz is over, so what are they going to talk about now? Back to poor ol' Brittany, I guess. I called my daughter to see how they were taking McCain's defeat. She said that the boys were quite disappointed, but their appetite for politics had been whetted and she had no regrets. She said they would always remember seeing "A real American hero"! I told her that I thought Obama's victory speech was very eloquent, as great as any I had ever heard, to which she replied, "Oh, yeah! There's no doubt that he can "talk the talk", now if he is just able to "walk the walk" and fulfill his campaign promises. We had a hard time believing he could do all that and NOT RAISE TAXES, for the middle class. " We shall see! Her brother, a Democrat, is biding his time before venturing a little political ribbing for her. I told her to expect it. She said "Well, at least, we have griping rights now. We've had to listen to it from them for years now. I am hoping a Democrat president with a Democrat Congress can work wonders with the economy, the wars and health care. AND NOT RAISE TAXES for the working class. McCains speech was very gracious, also. Plus, we haven't seen the last of Governor Palin.". I'm glad they have important jobs to go back to. This election has really been an experience. I'm glad I voted.

IT'S BEEN FOREVER!

Well, it seems like it has been forever since I have been able to sit down and post in peace. October was such a hectic month, it always is for me. It signifies change, and I do not handle change very well. Is that a sign of getting old? If lack of flexibility is an indication, I certainly fit the bill, whether I admit it or not. I did not expect to be as upset by my journal on AOL closing as I was. I procrastinated about transferring it all month while I lollygagged around, thinking I had plenty of time. The month went by so fast that the dreaded day arrived before I was out of denial. Faintly reminescent of my cancer surgery which took place on a Halloween evening some fifteen years ago. (Praise God that I did not put that off too long, as I am in habit of doing! After the ten year time elapsed I finally believed that I was free of it. ) I am digressing from the subject of my lost journal. As I tried to save it on the last day, the tears flowed freely, to no avail. It may be floating somewhere in cyberspace, now, and I am left with my memories of time spent creating it. Strangely, I felt like I had lost a child, an imperfect embryo, but a child of my heart, no less. I grieve. Nuff sed. We, as a nation, are also approaching a new beginning. The outcome of the election, tomorrow, will be a fork in the road. Hopefully, we will not have to regret the road not taken. We will live with our choice for at least the next four years, God willing some unforeseen circumstance. I will pray for the victor, as he faces an awesome responsibility of guiding this nation back to prosperity and peace. May God grant him wisdom and honorable service as he makes decisions that will impact all of us. My daughter is now at the airport in Tennessee to welcome a visiting Senator McCain and she invited me to go. I declined in deference to preserving my voting privacy. As usual, I have not even told the children how I intend to vote. My privilege and they respect it , ( not beyond trying to influence me in this divided family.) I always tell them to just vote their conscience, as I do. On a humorous note, this little tidbit from Halloween. My eleven year old grandson debated about trick or treating this year, but finallly decided to go with his little friend. One street in town is always deluged with costumed kids and notoriously treats generously. (The city blocks this street off as a precaution to autos so it is known to be a safe place to allow kids to treat.) When the two little boys came back to their waiting mothers, the friends mother peered into his plastic pumpkin and said, "Well, Thomas, I think this is the least candy you ever got trick or treating." To which he replied seriously, "It's this dog-gone economy." That sent the mother's into gales of laughter, until they soberly realized that the dire predictions had even filtered down to the children. Next year, they will be too old to go, and I suppose like many, the age of innocence is over all too soon. When they told me about it, I reasoned that the residents on that street, besieged by ghosties and goblins, had to limit their treats. My son had a table set up in the park and his office gave out 800 treats before they ran out. He was some- what overwhelmed by the turnout. Since the churches have gone together (and businesses) to have games and treats in the park (trunk or treat) I do not get the trick or treaters like I did. That is a relief since I worry about the children. Sorrowfully, I heard about a pregnant woman in a nearby town who was taking her small daughter and was killed by a car. I will be glad that my grandson will not be going next year, even though\ wistful at the passing of this tradition. I have never been a fan of Halloween. By the way, my grandson was dressed up as a wolf, so I guess the folks he went to visit really thought that THE WOLF WAS LITERALLY AT THEIR DOOR!

By Any Other Name

Friday, February 8, 20085:26:00 PM EST Feeling Happy Hearing Best of Neil Diamond Edit Entry Delete Entry
"By any other name............"
The phrase , attributed to Shakespeare I believe, that "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet", is open for debate. I have always thought that the choice of a name has more importance than some people seem to think. I do not know who gave the rose its name, but I cannot imagine it called by any other . Rose is beauty personified to my mind. Names evoke certain feelings, but does the name itself change according to the life experiences of each individual? It is a question to ponder, especially when faced with the momentous decision of naming an offspring. I realize that I might attach undue importance to this decision because I, for many years, did not care for the name given me at birth. I liked the shortened version, Pat, but I longed for the more patrician sounding Patricia, or Patrice, not my own Patsy, which I felt meant someone who would be a scapegoat . Someone who would be a sucker for anything. Not to even mention, (and I never told classmates and friends my middle name, because heaven forbid them being able to pronounce it correctly). The shame of remembering my mother tell how she found it in a Aldens catalog , fell in love with the name, and gave it to her first child lovingly. I always felt that I could have made a better choice for my kid . After all, to be stuck with something like that for life------Ugh! When did my mind change about my name? I started liking it about the same time I started liking myself. About the time I named my own children, and felt a sense of accomplishment in giving life and purpose to my own dear ones. I matured. I felt a new pride, not only in them but in myself. I became my own person, and in the process I liked who I became and even liked my name
I poured relentlessly over endless books of names for newborn babes and fretted for nine months with each one. No ultrasounds existed to determine the sex for sure, just the educated guess of the doctor if he was willing to wager a guess. The old wives tales were taken seriously to predict boy or girl by the way the pregnant mother was carrying them but just in case, a masculine name and a feminine name both had to be selected. Oh, how I agonized over those names! I liked the names ending in -a- for a girl. My rationale---I had studied Latin and the feminine ended with a's. Names that could be used for both sexes were too confusing, or so I thought. And on and on and on. Couldn't anyone see how important this choosing a name was? My laid-back husband felt he had already made his contribution and the rest was up to me. (This was during a generation when the macho male did not diaper or tend the babies.) He tried to lighten the situation by pretending to want his son named Axel or Penrod. My temeramental condition did not take this teasing lightly. When he said our daughter would be named Nivera Beta, I burst into tears and had to be consoled with a box of the white Turkish taffy that I craved. Nivera Beta, indeed!
Well, you might say as Shakespeare did so eloquently, "Much ado about nothing..........." and you are entitled to your opinion. But if you are ever at a loss when it comes to naming your children or grandchildren, just let me know and I will be glad to oblige. I have a huge store of unused names that I was saving for grandchildren that are not forthcoming. And I have found that couples selfishly want that privilege for themselves instead of allowing me to do it , when I am really so much better at naming than anyone else that I know.

A Rough Transition

I am just now attempting to transition to the new journal, and I am in the midst of dismay. I guess the old habits are so ingrained that I am having difficulty adjusting. I have been copying the archives manually, mainly because I wanted something tangible to refer to as I use them for memory prompts as I intend to compile a small book for my grandchildren. But I also wanted to transfer if possible. The first thing that happened was the refusal to accept the Google password I had established. So I changed it . Oh, well! I missed my call today. My sweetie and I call each other after lunch every day, but today he has gone to the church to help make apple butter for the youth group to sell as a fund-raiser. They made 195 quarts last Thursday and hope to have that many today. I helped with several of the stir-offs last year but I am not risking arthritis flare-up this year as we are experiencing a cold spell. We made the apple butter in the outside picnic shed, enclosed with\ tarps and we had a roaring fire in the huge fireplace, but it was still cold. I miss doing it because it was great fun, with fellowship and a great country dinner. Stirring the huge cauldrons reguire several people to switch out turns stirring with long oar-like paddles. The applesauce must be seasoned with cinnamon and cinnamon oil, and stirred continuously for several hours before it is ready to be canned in fruit jars. Maybe the next canning will be during a warmer spell and I can help then. It has become a tradition. Apple butter is wonderful on a hot, home-made biscuit!

AS I WAS GOING............

It is so good to be home! I have been away much of this month and I am
so happy to be back blogging. I have a lot of catching up to do. The house needs
a good cleaning and I need to transfer my journal. I have been copying it but
I really would like it saved. I hope I have enough space available for it. I am
going to try to do that tomorrow, providing nothing else comes up to prevent
it. So the cleaning will just have to wait, perhaps even to spring.
I have enjoyed my little vacation this fall. My son vacationed in Colorado
with a group of friends, so I was free to do a little traveling of my wn this month.
I really enjoyed the Smoky Mountains and Pigeon Forge, even though I have
been there many times. The scenery is spectacular. We went to several of the
new musical shows and Dollywood, and really enjoyed it. There's always new
things being added every season and I never tire of it.
However, I must say our own mountains were just as beautiful when we
returned. We are about two weeks ahead of the Smokies in getting our grand
fall foliage. Our mountains were ablaze with glory and looked wonderful as
we arrived home. There just is no place like home.

Hello, Dahling!

Well, Hello-o-o Dahling! It's so nice to have you back where you belong! You're looking
swell, dah-ling, I can tell, dah-ling. You're still goin', you're still growing, you're still bloggin'
strong...................That's an oldie with a new edition, just like me. I still haven't quite figured
out how to move my journal into the archives of this one. Hopefully before Halloween. Ha!
Getting to look like a reunion around here. Friends with facelifts!
This has to be a quickie, but I will catch up later with news of weddings, reunions and such.
In the meantime, love you much. So glad you came. Catch you later. Pat

Hello, Dahling!