SeeChelle's Collecting

2009-07-27T05:24:00.001-07:00

BEACH WEDDING!

2009-06-10T07:44:00.000-07:00

i have news! BIG news! After 38 years of
bachelorhood, my son has decided to tie the
knot! He came home in the middle of the day
yesterday and told me the news. I had been
suspecting the announcement Sunday when
they spent all evening with us at my friend's
house. His sister and the nephews were all
there and we just lounged on the deck all
afternoon. It was the perfect time to announce
the engagement, but apparently, he lost his
nerve. No, he said he decided to tell me first
privately. Could be that he was not certain
of my reaction. He always dreads to tell me
that he is going on a trip because he thinks
that I stress about it. So he delays telling me
when actually, I just need time to digest the
news and pray about it.
Anyhow, it is official. Plans have already
been made for a beach wedding. He has
always been determined to have a low-key
wedding on a tropical beach, forgoing all
the fal-de-ral that his sister loved so much.
She had two big church weddings and did
most of the preparations herself. I guess
she thought she could do the same for him,
but the bride-to-be was in total agreement
with him. I am a little relieved, I admit.
The two of them seem so happy that it
is hard not to get immersed in the glow. She
is an extremely striking young lady, and will
make a beautiful bride. Her sister will be
maid of honor and my son has asked his
nephews to share the best men spot. I do
not think tuxedo's will be worn because of
the heat, although it is scheduled for sunset.
I am trying not to think ahead to the
changes in our living arrangements and the
obstacles that stand in the way, and instead
be happy in this joyous occasion and the
marriage of my only son.
Of course, I have my own fear of flying to
overcome, and the fear of the unknown that
has developed with age, in order to be part
of the ceremony. However, a trip to the
Virgin Islands and a paid vacation is hard
to resist.

SHE'S HERE!

2009-06-10T06:34:00.000-07:00

The new baby arrived to meet her family yesterday
at 3:12 p.m. Her mother, my niece had been admitted
to the hospital Monday night and her labor induced by
an intravenous drip. The labor began in earnest around
daybreak and proceeded slowly all day. I arrived around
ten o'clock and tried to provide moral support for my
anxious sister.
After dilation reached 6, an epidural was given and
there was some fear that it was wearing off around 1:00
and the anesthesiologist was called to give a little extra..
The pushing began in earnest around 2:45 and little
Pateyn Brooke arrived soon after that. She weighed

8 lb. 3 ozs.
She is a beautiful baby and will probably be blonde
like her mother and sister. She has a pert little nose
and big eyes and a sweet, little rosebud mouth. I can't
wait to hold her. Her sister was hyper in the waiting room
but unusually subdued when she met the baby. She was
more excited to be going home with her little cousins to
spend the night. It should be interesting to see if she
is willing to share the limelight with the new baby.
I came home exhausted. I must have pushed with
every contraction, holding my breath with each one.
I remember how tiring it can be to spend days (and
nights ) in the hospital, with love ones. It is not the
physical activity that drains one, but the emotional.
I am so glad that it is over and we have a healthy
baby. She is our miracle baby as her mother was
stabbed on both sides of her abdomen, barely
missing the baby with each wound. Now that the
baby is here, her mother will have surgery on the
hematoma that has formed on her leg between
the three wounds there. The trauma of her mom 's
attacked by a deranged total stranger while shopping
in a local store is still causing her daughter to fear
closed doors, all knives, and any absence of her
mother. Hopefully the arrival of a sister will displace
all those bad memories. I pray for health, and
happiness for this young family. Thank you, Lord,
for the blessings we have already received.

TRESPASSER

2009-05-28T18:27:00.000-07:00

Well, I still haven't gotten that last rose planted. My lawn care men

have not been here in three weeks now and with all the rain, my grass

is very high. But not high enough to hide the trespasser that sneaked

up behind me. When I turned and saw IT, my mattock went one way

and I went the other. I haven't moved that fast in three years, since I

hurt my knees. I paid for it yesterday evening, with pain all night.

but I was moving on.

I tried to call both my son and my friend and could not get in

touch with either one. When I told them about it later, their mild

unconcern ruffled my feathers, to say the least. As did their

assurance that IT was long gone by then. Just passing through.

So, today, I thought I'd keep my eyes pealed but get that rose

into the hole that had been dug and abandoned.

My eyes were darting to and fro and sure enough, I

spotted the invader again, this time on my porch. I must

have been slightly incoherent when I called my son at the office.

The next thing I knew a police car pulled into the driveway and

my good friend Jim began the search. He stopped once to ask

me if I was sure that it wasn't a coil of television cable by the

fence. He must have been convinced for he resumed his search

and this time he saw it. He managed to use his trusty pepper

spray before it went under some wood. He advised me to call

the local "Mountain Man" who has many years of expertise in

this field. My son called him and he came at once. It did not

take him long to spot and capture his quarry. I tried to pay him

but he refused and instead took the captured prey to his own

barn, where IT was welcome as a rodent hunter. Good riddance.

I have had a bad case of nerves since then, jumping at

every thing I see or feel. It will take me a while to recover.

In the meantime, I am sending that last rose to my daughter

or putting it in a pot till next spring. If ever!

HOLIDAY HAVOC

2009-05-26T09:04:00.000-07:00

Well, this holiday has come and gone,

and I must admit that I am glad it's over. While

I like to remember my departed loved ones on

Memorial Day, I find that old emotions are stirred

up and surface as raw spots. Perhaps it helps

with healing deep wounds, but there are sad

feelings when you place those floral tributes.

My late husband's resting place is in a

cemetery on a hill located on "The Trail of

the Lonesome Pine," and actually is directly

across from a tall pine that is silhouetted

against the skyline. I always think of the Fox

novel by that name when I see it. My daughter

made a beautiful arrangement for her father.

She can always outshine the florists on an

arrangement.

She loves flowers as much or more than

I , and we spent Saturday touring all the local

greenhouses. Her garden is incredible and

her new found passion for roses is consuming

all her free time. If the boys leave any, that is.

She was searching for Jackson and Perkins

climbers, "Blaze of Glory" and "Voluptious".

She had seen them earlier and bought others

instead and grieved because they got sold.

She did not find them , but I bought three.

These were my favorite ones that she has

blooming. One is a double "Knock-out",

and the other two are climbers; "Scent

of Heaven" and "Double Delight". I planted

two yesterday and trying to decide on a spot

for the other one. Mine will never be as

beautiful as hers (her pictures were accepted

for an online garden magazine) but I am hoping

for blooms.

Daughter and SIL took their son to the

airport yesterday to return to Iraq. She tried not

to cry, in order for the departure to be easier for

him, but she just couldn't help it. She said folks

were coming up and thanking him for serving

his country and it was very emotional. His two

weeks home just flew by, with dinners and

cookouts for him. He will be gone a year. Pray

that all our boys will be home by then.

Guess what! My niece had contractions

last night. Doctor said she would not make

it till June 1st, her due date. Today is her

little girl's birthday. New baby made it past Mem

Day, and if she isn't born today, she will

get a day of her own to celebrate her birth.

My niece is scheduled for surgery the 3rd,

because of the hematoma on her leg. She

is the one that was stabbed by a stranger

in a store as related in a previous entry.

Pray for an easy birth and a well baby.

We took the grandsons to the Sunday

School picnic and had a great time. We

enjoyed the food and afterward there was

a rousing softball game between the

"Has-Beens" and the "Want-a-Bees." The

Has+Beens were the over-35 bunch and

held their own, even though accused of

crowding the field. It was fun and frolic.

Son and friend had made a short

trip to Boone, N.C. a quaint little ski town

and Grandfather Mountain and area. He

was home yesterday and we just lounged

all day. We wore P.J.'s most of the day.

I was glad he had a day to rest. Me, too.

No more holidays until the Fourth of July,

and only one birthday in June. But I am

already looking forward to those.

Spring is hectic with so many events

that one has to be reminded sometimes

to "stop and smell the roses." Oh, yeah,

that reminds me, I have one to plant.

Catch ya later.

I MUST BE MURPHY!

2009-05-15T06:41:00.000-07:00

Murphy's law is known by practically everyone,
it seems. The likelihood that anything that can
go wrong will go wrong seems sometimes to
especially apply to me. It could be caused by
my extreme "bumbling" instead of chance, do
you think? Anyway, the chances of something
going wrong are extremely ex "ass "erbated by
getting in a hurry. Now, I am not a "hurry" type
of person by nature, and as I age less than
gracefully, seem to have slowed to a snail's
pace.
I have begun to dread any event for which
I have a set time to arrive. This trait has become
stronger since my retirement, since I no longer
have to be at work on time, a fact that I am so
enjoying thoroughly. That alarm clock has been
thrown right out the window, something I've
wanted to do for 20+ years. Oh, the joy of late
morning sleep!
I digress, back to timed events. That includes
weddings, funerals, graduations, showers, and
even church services. Since it is not "cool" to
make a late entrance to any of these, I have now
begun to question whether I even want to attend.
Now I love going to church and I have years of
non-attendance to make-up for so it is not an
option to skip these services. The rest can be
replaced with a card containing money in the
preference of personal attendance, or so I
rationalize when I am trying to talk myself out
of going.
It is not so much that I do not enjoy these
outings once I get there (well, maybe not the
funerals!) but the option of not going causes
me not to be fully prepared for the occasion.
I don't know why I do not purchase multiple
items like pantyhose that I know I am going
to need. It is inevitable to get a big "runner"
at the last minute, causing the panic to well
up in one's throat, knowing you have not
allowed time for an emergency stop at the
local Wal-mart.
For instance, this weekend I attended a
funeral that involved a four hour trip each way.
Delay followed delay, almost as if a little
demon planned the agenda to frustrate me.
Some were insignificant things that could be
shrugged off or changed. Others were major,
like rain beginning while I was inside a rest
stop bathroom. My hair does not react well
to humidity, much less a downpour. (I could
have taken an umbrella inside with me, but
my not thinking ahead caused a frizzy do.)
My appearance was nothing compared
to major accident which occured a few cars
ahead of us that blocked the highway with
demolished vehicles, rescue squads, fire
trucks, a wrecker, and an emergency heli-
copter. The arrival of the chopper signaled
us to turn around and retreat 30 minutes to
another parkway exit which was an alternate
route, but added another 30 minutes travel
time. Now, things like accidents and rain
storms are things that is beyond one's control,
but it is small things that are more irritating.
I am absent-minded at best. (Note the
fact that I left my only curling iron in the hotel
room when we left, causing an even worse
hairdo the next day.) Knowing this weakness
causes me to doubt my own self, generating
paicked thoughts that spoil any event. For
example, thinking "Did I or did I not leave the
iron on?" or "Did I check the stove after I
heated the soup?" or "Did I lock the front
door after the unexjpected company arrived
while I was getting dressed to leave?" A
series of things like this is what causes my
usually unruffled countenance to disintergrate.
Since I abhor profanity, I have a few choice
words , expletives , that explode unbidden at
moments like these.
I've noticed that it doesn't matter so much
to me when others have to wait for me as the
fact that I hate waiting for others. My friend
has the need to be early for events, which I
find is tiresome. He also wants to leave them
early, while I, once I have got there, do not
mind to linger and gab, knowing that he is
fuming all the while. I like to be on time. If
something starts at the stated time, I like
to be there no more than three minutes prior.
Needless to say, any small delay can cause
one to enter sheepishly right behind the
bridal party. Oh, well, I guess there is some-
thing to be said for making a grand entrance.
(and probably is said, in a mumbled undertone.)
When will I learn? Probably never. I could
apply several old adages that I have in my stock
of philosophical references. Like "You can't make
a silk purse from a sow's ear", and "You can't
change a zebra's stripes". But also, "Better late
than never!" and "You're never too old to learn".
I have a tendency to pass the buck and blame
some one or some thing for my failings, a common
tendency, I've noted. I've recognized my weakness,
now working on me, instead of blaming fate or even
Murphy's Law will take some time and effort. I'll TRY!

RECESSION RECIPES

2009-05-07T11:17:00.000-07:00

While preparing my traditional Thursday's spaghetti sauce,
I had the random thought, "Nothing gives you as much bang for
your buck than good ol' spaghetti"! Thankfully, all my family
loves spaghetti with or without meatballs. I usually make a meat
sauce because it is easier. I prefer a chunky tomato marinara,
but my son likes it smooth. Anyway, it set me thinking about my
frugal family food.
I have written in prior posts about my mother's comfort cooking
and how she loved feeding her extended family members. She
loved cooking big pots of food to have simmering on the stove
when family members strolled in unexpected. My parents and
my husband's parents had all survived the depression era and
adapted their menu's and recipes to fit the meager times. My
era was not quite as deprived as theirs but they continued their
simple food preparation mainly because they had become
accustomed to it and even preferred it to more expensive dishes.
My husband's favorite dishes were typical farm fare. We
did not know at the time how loaded with fats, white flour and
sugar could contribute to health problems like high blood
pressure and cholesterol. We only knew that he loved gravy
and biscuits with fried sausage, bacon or ham. Occasionally,
he spoke longingly of his mother fixing Banner Brand sausage,
a cheap canned version that was loaded with fat. I did not
fry it , because I suspected that it was "mystery meat", even though
he assured me that all the fat fried out leaving a unique flavor.
The canned meats that I used were Treet and Spam and I came
up with a delicious version of chopped ham for two. I sliced the
small loaf almost through into six sections. Into each split, I would
place a half-slice of pineapple and cover all with a glaze of mixed
brown sugar and prepared mustard. Baked, it was great! Not
exactly gourmet, but a welcome change from fried bologna (which
he also loved, by the way.)
Our standard staple was brown (pinto) beans and fried
potatoes. (We called them Irish potatoes, because they saved
many an Irish family from the famine.) Other beans were often
cooked, white navy, lima and butter beans but never as often
as our soup beans. These simmered all day on the stove and
eaten with big pieces of corn bread and various pickled foods.
We ate fresh green beans in summer and home canned ones
in the winter time. Bushels of potatoes were covered in the ground
in "tater holes", covered with straw and soil to prevent freezing.
One of my husband's favorite meats was pork side meat that
was salt preserved like country ham. He liked slices of it rolled
in corn meal and fried crisp and golden. As a matter of fact, he
liked anything rolled in corn meal and fried. We both would have
eaten a ______ if it was rolled in corn meal and fried. LOL!
No, we did not indulge in some of the ethnic dishes like
"chittlings" and "mountain oysters" that were very cheap but my
mother liked hog jowl and pickled pig's feet, but I could never
even look at those dishes. She occasionally wanted some
potted meat or vienna sausages even though she was not to
eat that as she got older.
She cooked some things with bacon renderings all her life
and would not substitute oil for the fat in some dishes. Her
German potato salad was loaded with bacon drippings. It is a
good thing that the older generation worked so hard. There
certainly was no need for exercise classes back then. Hoeing
a cornfield would work off a multitude of sinful indulgences.
Her biscuits were light and golden and her cornbread was
perfect, and I suspect a little lard made the difference. She
scorned green beans and pinto beans that were not cooked
with a strip of "fat-back" meat. And it sure added flavor!
I always made salmon croquettes (patties) as a special
treat for my husband, because he loved them. I hated for
the house to smell like fried fish so sometimes I fixed them
on the porch in the electric skillet. He also liked chicken
livers sometimes instead of buttermilk fried chicken or
chicken and dumplings. Of course, we had lots of veggies,
greens and baked dishes. In later years, I tried to limit
fried foods as I became more health conscious but they
remained his favorite foods all his life.
My son grew away from our eating style while in college.
He began to appreciate a more international cuisine. Plus,
he often dined with his girlfriend of eight years. Her grand-
father was a wealthy cattleman, among other things, and my
son became a steak-lover during those years. To be honest,
he never cared as much about our home-cooking as we did.
He acts incredulous about some of the things we liked (I say
he is a member of the spoiled generation of burger, pizza
lovers.) sometimes when I have an especially "country"meal,
he sneaks out to his favorite local steak-house. I don't know
which is worse, our variety meats or his red meat. I guess
to each his own.
I think I have learned a more nutritious way of cooking.
(Maybe! ) However, when the spectre of recession hovers
over us, not to even mention dreaded depression, the old
days and old ways do not seem so bad. A simple life was a
good life when it was always seasoned with love.

I KNOW WHAT I WANT

2009-04-21T09:06:00.000-07:00

After all this time, I have made up my mind. No more
searching movie star magazines and hair style booklets
for me.
I am tired of trying to explain the style I want to my hair-
stylist (if you can call her that) because no matter how I tell
her about a new do, she cuts it the same way every time.
I know what I want but apparently, so does she and she
wins. The one time she changed was when I was relaxing
with eyes closed while she did the comb-out and gasped
when I looked in the mirror. I said, "But I do not part my
hair in the middle. My face is too round!" This woman
has been my stylist for three years now and I have never
requested a center part. She has conveniently ignored
the torn-out pictures of every starlet from Alba to Zeta-
Jones, and every modern style I have seen or devised.
I know it is hard to concentrate on snipping while
carrying on a conversation on a cell phone tucked
under her chin. Perhaps that is why I get a blunt
cut when I request a layered look. Perhaps that is why
I get a curly perm when I want just body. Maybe that
is why I get orange instead of champagne blonde
highlights. I get anxious when the timer has gone off
several minutes before she returns from the back.
But the cut, (Oh, my, the cut!) everyone knows that is
the most important part. Last time when I examined
the final results in the mirror, I gulped audibly. Then
I began telling myself, "Don't panic, it will grow out.
Your hair grows fast, it won't take long." Ha! A bad
cut lasts FOREVER! And you have to live with it
in the meantime. Of course, all the important occasions
come around during this time of exasperation. She
had the nerve to say ,the last time I went for a trim
after a bad perm (she had said, I am going to use
pink, then gray, then pink rollers this time and hope
it will give you more body") that "Your hair seems a
little dry." I did not say, " I have just had two hot oil
treatments and a deep conditioning treatment at
home!"
I am not a difficult client. I hide my displeasure
and write it off as lack of communication. But, I
think I have a solution. I have found a picture of my-
self that was taken twenty years ago, that has the
style I want. It is beside the point that the face was
thin with only one chin, the skin was smooth and
unwrinkled, and the hair was thick and glossy. I
am not asking for miracles. I know she does not
do plastic surgery or tummy tucks or camoflauge
make-up. Just please, please, for once can
we do it my way?

Postscript

2009-04-20T19:42:00.000-07:00

I had forgotten to include in my previous post
the bit of news that inspired the whole thing. Among
the highway hazards that I noted was the latest::
Motorists in the county adjacent to mine (where my
friend lives) spotted a meteor descending in that
vicinity one morning last week. At 6:30 a.m, early
morning commuters on their way to work saw it come
within a few hundred yards of earth before it split into
two pieces. The newspaper quoted a scientist as
saying it was a meteor instead of a meteorite because
a meteorite would have disintergrated when it entered
the atmosphere. He said it was probably farther south
than reported . No debris has been found thus far.
The article said that an average of 2 meteors a
day hit the earth (or oceans) and that 40,000 tons of
space material is added to the planet Earth each year.
My question: Who weighed it? I will never understand
how these calculations are arrived at but I find them
fascinating, none the less.
My falling rocks hazard does not seem quite
as bad as a meteor strike. I think I heard somewhere
that the city of Middlesboro, Ky is the only city
known to have been built around a crater left by a
meteor. Must have been a big one. Something to
ponder while looking skyward. I wonder if the
tool kit abandoned by the space shuttle can be
seen orbiting the earth with a good telescope.
Did you know that the Hubbell telescope was
engineered by a Kentucky scientist? Anyhow , a
fellow Kentuckian told me that. I must do a little
research on Snopes.com before I pass on these
things. In the meantime, watch for falling rocks.

HIGHWAY HAZARDS

2009-04-20T08:46:00.000-07:00

I resolved to make my next post a happy one.

Therefore, I have my work cut out for me since I

chose the temporary title, "Highway Hazards".

Well, where I liive you can encounter various types

of hazards anytime you chose to go for a drive.

The highways going north and south have both

been built at great expense and effort since

portions of them must be carved from limestone

mountains, leaving highwalls that are terraced

to protect from rockfalls. Drillmarks are evident

from blasting and loose rock occasionally fall

onto highways. Sometimes wire mesh fences

are erected in the most dangerous places. We

joke that a search still continues for a missing

Indian chief named "Fallen Rocks" (and you can

see signs telling you to watch for him! )

You may also see signs picturing a leaping

deer at the usual deer crossings. That joke is

that a elderly lady who had a deer crossing sign

near her house called the Highway Department

asking them to change the sign to somewhere

else because "too many of those little fellas are

getting killed there where it is nowl". I dunno.

I'm not going to even comment on our supply

of coal trucks, log trucks and Sunday drivers. we

seem to have more than our share.

I love where I live nestled in a valley between high

mountains. A flatlander friend said, "How do you

stand being closed in by mountains on both sides.

You can't see the sky." But I can, you just have

to..... " look to the hills from whence cometh my help.

My help cometh from the Lord, who made heaven

and earth"..... and I feel sheltered and protected

by my beloved mountains. But I will be glad

to see them green again.

2009-04-17T07:48:00.000-07:00

I mentioned briefly, in my last post, that I,
along with my family, had just endured a very
traumatic event. That event could have ended
the life of my precious niece and the life of
her unborn child, as well. Her almost four-
year-old daughter may have memories that
will haunt her for a lifetime. Even I have had
issues to overcome, as her aunt, and I can
hardly imagine what my dear sister, her
mother has endured. I can hardly answer
questions when asked because of waves
of nausea and trembling. So, I made the
decision to write a short version of what
happened as it was told to me. I hope this
will be thereputic for me.
Perhaps some of you will remember
the short poem describing my niece, that
I included in my previous journal. Here's
a tidbit,
" ............flower petal skin,
like the purest porcelain.
And the bluest eyes,
beneath the skies,..............."

This beautiful little girl that I love so much, is
all grown up now with a little blonde miniature
replica of herself that is now almost four and
is eight months pregnant with another little
girl baby.
She and her daughter went shopping
one morning last week. She became un-
easy when she felt that she was being
followed around the store by a stranger.
The woman (age 34) did not look and
act quite right, so my niece hurriedly took
;her selections to the check-out counter.
My niece was suddenly attacked from
behind by the woman, who slashed at
her repeatedlly with a steak knife. She
shielded the baby with her arms while
she screamed for help. She said it
seemed an eternity before another
customer, a brave man, tackled the
woman and pinned her arms until the
police arrived. His wife helped to
console my niece's daughter, while
they were trying to control the bleeding.
She had been viciously stabbed 6 times,
along with numerous cuts on her arms.
Two of the cuts were to the abdomen,
one on either side of the baby, barely
missing it (which they did not know at
the time.) The one to the thigh proved
to be most serious, as it entered the
muscle. She was taken to a nearby
hospital for emergency treatment,
then later transported to a neo-natal
hospital 150 miles away. An irregular
heartbeat from the baby was probably
caused by the stress.
When my sister called me on the
way there, she requested that I call
my prayer chain , which I did, and I
know that other local churches began
praying for them. Praise God, the
tests that followed showed a restored
rhythm and that the baby was fine.
My nieces wounds were treated and
she was released on crutches the
next day.
We were told later that the woman
had been released from jail the previous
day. She had been imprisoned for
stabbing another woman a few years
ago. Apparently, she was mentally
deranged, with a violent history.
The shock of this happening has
stunned our entire family and community.
I can't begin to express how violated we
still feel. Her little girl, in her grandmother's
care, refused to go into a store because,
"that woman might be there and kill me."
Accidents are hard enough to cope
with, but a vitriolic act of hatred and violence
shakes one to the core. We warn our
children to avoid dangerous places and
people, but to not be able to feel safe in
ordinary places in plain daylight just
blows ones mind.
It would be easy to slip into a
vengeful mood of retaliation. I was
helped very much by viewing a film
on "20-20" a few nights ago. It
showed a mother's journey to her
forgiving the murderer of her small
child abducted on a family camping
trip. As she said, "Hatred can eat
you alive." As a result of her efforts,
the killer was captured and convicted.
I definitely want my niece's
attacker to recieve the treatment she
must have. I am also praying that she
will not be loosed upon society again
until they are certain she is rid of the
demons which obviously possess her.
I pity her for her torment, but I embrace
loved ones that I could so suddenly
have lost. Thank God for answered\
prayers, and for sending that brave
man to her rescue. I , along with my
family, will be eternally grateful.

GONE TOO LONG

2009-04-16T13:21:00.000-07:00

Hello! I am sheepishly back to blogging,
for the time being anyway. Kinda like missing
church for no good reason, one is reluctant
to return for fear of having been spotted
having fun. Well, I did enjoy a miniature
vacation to the Smokies, but other than
that, it has just been a hectic time for me.
I tore into spring cleaning those few nice
days in March, literally pulling out many
things that had been stored away, or
were cluttering my closets. I soon ran
out of steam, not being as young as I
once was, unfortunately. I attribute my
lack of enthusiasm, which caused the
postponing of cleaning, to the fact that
the weather turned ugly and cold, and
I just can't clean when it is dark and
gloomy. That said, I left everything
topsy turvy, waiting for sunny days. (Then,
I will want to be outside, gardening!)
Another reason for my dampened
spirits involved a family drama, actually
a tragedy, which I may or may not write
about later. Thank God that the family
member involved was protected by
angels, I believe, that prevented an
even worse result. I was terribly shaken
by this event and definitely needed a
brief vacation to gather my wits again.
Happily, I'm back and recovering.

MY RADIO FLYER

2009-03-30T08:14:00.000-07:00

My Radio Flyer has assumed a position of importance
in my life. I received this red wagon as a gift from my late
husband. His offbeat sense of humor was tickled by the
idea, when I had mentioned that I needed something to move
things around in the yard. I found a wheelbarrow to be too
heavy and awkward for me to manage, and I was always
needing some way to transfer plants, branches, and other
debris that seems to accumulate.
At first I was embarrassed to be seen pulling my red
wagon around the yard. I would wait until there was no
traffic on the nearby road and if a car chanced to come
by, I'd drop the handle and appear to be busy elsewhere.
Now , I pull it proudly and say, "What do I care if my wagon
is getting worn and a little rusty? So am I." If anyone is
embarrassed to see a little old lady pulling a red wagon,
that is their problem. I will never forget the day the village
"bad boy" stopped to see if I needed help!
I have hauled load after load of wind blown branches from
the silver birch tree in my yard over to a nearby field. In
the fall, it drops millions of leaves on the ground around
it. I rake, and bag and haul them away in my trusty wagon.
I have just cleaned and prepped my flower beds for spring
and loaded planters to haul back to their summer place.

Each Monday I take my plastic bags filled with garbage
from their cans down the long driveway to the bin for
collection. Some are heavy so I transport in my Radio
Flyer. My garage is across the road and anything I store
has to be taken there. I have made many trips back and
forth with items. Just yesterday, I needed a shelf for
towels in my bathroom and I knew my daughter had a
nice one stored there. So I took my wagon, loaded
it carefully and gingerly pulled it up the driveway to my
home.

I have had a hard time accepting that I am not as
young and vigorous as I used to be. Due to bad knees
and back , I cannot lift and tug to things as I once did.
I always enjoyed doing my own painting and papering,
changing furniture around . Now I have to wait for some
one to help. One fall from a ladder is more than enough.
I just have to accept that at my age, I need help and not
be too proud to ask for it.

Anyhow, back to my little red wagon. I was telling my
gentleman friend how much I depended upon it. He
confided to me that the only toy he could remember
getting from his father was a Radio Flyer wagon.
His father died when my friend was five years old.
Perhaps his father knew how useful the wagon would
be, as my friend used it for years helping his family.
He gathered many a load of firewood for them. So
he could relate to my realization that like diamonds,
"Wagons can be anyone's good friend." And to my
late husband, a belated "Thank you, it was a
wonderful gift!"

Trying to find someone

2009-03-04T08:32:00.000-08:00

Hi, I am trying to find my blog.

SNOWFLAKE FRENZY

2009-03-01T17:50:00.000-08:00

Today is the last of February
and I wish that it would hurry.
March will be welcome here
for we have had a frosty year.

As we are out tonight so late
A friend's birthday to celebrate.
The falling rain turned to sleet and
soon iced the walk beneath my feet.

On the long drive home,
in the headlights glare
the snow was swirling
through the chilling air.

It seemed like we centered
the blowing snow as into
the nucleus of it we drove,
me and the man I love.

The snow was a beautiful sight,
sparkling in the shining light.
It did not stay to give me fright.
But vanished quickly tonight.

To our homes we did arrive
and I had to breathe a sigh
for that lovely enchanted ride.
It's so good to be alive.

The weather now will be mild.
After a winter that was wild.
A few more days left to go
to enjoy invigorating snow.

MAGIC CARPET

2009-02-27T18:31:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a beautiful day. We have been getting

teasers this month when a sunshiney day will appear only

to be followed by more blustery weather. Anyway, the temp

was near 60 and I so wanted to be outside that I was willing

to clean or weed or anything in order to soak up a few rays.

I suffer from S.A.D. anyway and at winter's end, I need real

sunshine to warm my aching bones and lift my spirits.

So, I decided to clean my sorely neglected porches. I was

planning to move the glass-topped table and chairs from

the upstairs porch down to the one near my driveway, but

I soon realized that was much too big a project for me so

I decided to postpone that chore and to tackle the carpet

instead.

I had a piece of indoor-outdoor carpet (8X10', or there-

abouts) that had a glider and a setee and a small table on it,

which I scooted off to the side. The only water hose that is

hooked up now would not reach to the upstairs porch. I

rolled up the carpet and threw it over the railing. As it was

getting late with me expecting my "date", I decided I'd

best wait till today to scrub it down. So I pulled and tugged

until I got it spread lengthwise on the chain link fence out

back. It really isn't all that heavy until it is wet. So I went

merrily on my way and forgot all about it until I had gone

to bed when it briefly crossed my mind. The wind was

blowing strong, howling gusts. We have had March

winds early this years, trouble with trees blowing down

and such.

I awoke before daylight around six, I guess and I could

hear the rain pouring down outside. I remembered how

strong the wind was blowing last night and thought, "I'd

better look." Our lot is at a "Y" where two roads intersect

and the wind comes sweeping down from both directions.

I have learned not to leave baskets, patio cushions, etc.

out or I will be retrieving them from across the highway.

Right now I have four garbage cans that are minus their

lids. After many rescues, they are gone forever perhaps

in the nearby swollen stream. My garbage service was

always leaving them off anyway. Well, I digress, on with

my tale, or fable, or whatever it is.

I turned on the outside floodlight facing the back fence.

No rug! I peered right and left and saw no sign of it. It was

still raining so I did not venture out and waited until later in

the morning. But as I drank my morning cuppa, a stray

thought crossed my mind. What if...........what if my rug

had blown out in the road in front of a passing motorist??

Would they think it was a UFO, or maybe Aladdin's

magic carpet? I thought wistfully of an inside joke that

my late husband and I shared throughout many years.

Once I asked him if he knew where my broom was and

he smart-alecked back with, "Why, you going for a ride?"

Could I let that pass with a wry smile and go on. Oh, no!

I got so irate with ruffled feathers that he enjoyed it so

much that he used it time and again to annoy me and it

never failed to do so. I always told my kids to ignore

joking as it only encouraged jokers to tease and poke

fun but I couldn't follow my own advice this time. I do

miss his offbeat humor and good nature. It helped us

through some tough times.

I got side-tracked again, didn't I? To conclude, I

found my magic carpet in a ditch line at least 30 feet

from the fence. Can you imagine wind strong enough

to blow a big piece of carpet that far? I finally got it

scrubbed and laid out to dry on the steps to the

barbecue shed. But I am going to keep an eye out

for a genie, now what would I wish for?

As a postscript, we are supposedly getting SNOW

tomorrow and Sunday. No, No, I reject that forecast.

I want more sun. I object, I reject, I will fly to Florida.

TURBULENCE

2009-02-23T07:25:00.001-08:00

Nightime snows
blanket the ground,
and muffle the noises
from all around.
The stillness echoes
without a sound.

A picturesque place,
a stately home ,
but inside the family
emotions churn.
The friction worsens
and anger burns.

Tempers erupt and
spew out insults.
A sterner discipline
will be the results.
Teenagers feel caged
and ache to explore.

Even mother and father
are weary and sore.
It seems that all peace
has flown out the door.
Please don't despair, it
will return as before.

The bright morning sun
will melt all the snow,
and you will be free again
to come and to go.
Spirits will soar, and
you won't feel so low.

Winter will flee and the
snows turn to rain.
Hearts will be light and
you'll be happy again.
So, in the meantime,
just try to remain sane.

Spring will return with
its warmth and its cheer.
You won't even remember
why you felt so drear.
Cabin fever will pass, or
at least for this year.

Spring will return with
warmth and with cheer.
You won't even remember
why you felt so drear.

BACK TO THE GRIND

2009-02-09T08:21:00.000-08:00

Hello! Well, my brief sabbatical is over, so I am back to

blogging. I thought I would wait for something great to relate,

but alas, that could take forever, so I am stuck with the mini-

events that make up my ordinary but wonderful life.

One of the perks of aging, in my humble opinion, is

being able to experience youth again vicariously, through

the grandchildren. You can use their energy to participate

in sports, social events and academics without having to

expend your own, except for cheers and praises. Of course,

one must curb their enthusiasm , especially at ballgames,

in order not to distract the foul-shooter or embarrass the

player in front of his friends. Kisses are especially a no-no.

And hugs. Definitely, do not call out pet names or BABY,

regardless of how many times you have diapered that

six-foot shooter in the past.

Oh, by the way, if you are privileged to take your newly

dating grandson and his beautiful cheerleader girlfriend to

a buffet lunch after church, follow their lead and eat like a

little birdie. No loading that plate down. Mince lightly, and

do not relate tales from the young man's childhood. He

wants to be percieved as a man with no parents and no

past, I suppose. It would be better if you did not open your

mouth at all, except to tell them to have a good time at the

movie. No, strike that , too!

I am getting better at following my detailed instructions.

I know that if he gets hurt playing ball, I am NOT to run out

on the floor, and to keep an immobile face while he is

being revived. No shouting at the referree, either.

Proper dress for parents/grandparents is very , very,

important to teens. Dress should be conservative, not

to draw attention, but not old and fuddy-duddy. Beside

the point that they are wearing new jeans with holes on

the knees and pockets, and hoodies with weird names

like Abercrombie and Hollister. Go figure.

I had become paranoid about such things as causing

my teens to die from embarrassment. That is until the

mother of the above mentioned cheerleader told me

that she had been thinking that G-Son Tyler was shy

until she took the couple to the Mall on Friday. She

said that a dress-up day was scheduled for this

coming week at school. an event both kids enjoy.

She purchased a Hannah Montana wig for her

daughter to wear, and was astonished when shy

Tyler wore it all over the mall. He has always

liked costumes. When he was two or three years

old, he would have a towel tied around his neck to

make a Superman cape and could terrify us for

hours jumping from the furniture. While I encourage

him to become a doctor, I secretly think he would

make a great actor. He has the looks for it and

he was a hit in the Christmas play at church. But

right now, ball games and girls are his focus.

Yes, it is wonderful to relive your youth through

your grandchildren and give them the things you

wistfully wish you could have had, but just remember,

if you want to keep your good standing and be

allowed this privilege, you best WATCH YOUR

STEP and get that silly grin off your face!

Blue Moon

2009-01-12T19:22:00.000-08:00

EGGS-ACTLY RIGHT!

2009-01-09T12:22:00.000-08:00

Thank God IT'S FRIDAY! Or thank God if it is Monday,

or Tuesday, or any other day of the week. We have a

lot to be thankful for and every day should be filled with

gratitude to live yet another day. And thankful to live

in the USA . With all her problems, she is still the

best nation on earth, in my opinion.

Guess what, I ate an egg this morning! I probably

do not eat a half-dozen a year scrambled or fried. I

bake with them and I like deviled eggs but I really could

live without them entirely. But this morning I made

myself a loaded omelet. Bacon bits, diced peppers,

and cheese. then I had to have catsup. This egg

was a medium size but when I broke it, it had two

yolks. That rarely happens, and I really do not

like to think about it, but anyway.........I am

reminded of an old Archie Bunker show where

he was gagging and carrying on because Edith

said she liked hog jowl and he said, "I can't

believe you'd eat something from a hog's

mouth." To which Edith calmly replied,

"Well, Archie, you eat eggs, don't you?

Nuff sed. I am making a meat loaf for

supper and the aroma is reachin in here.

I don't make one often as there's only the

two of us. I like it cold for sandwiches later.

Not on my son's favorite list, though he

likes spaghetti, lasagna and burgers. I

tell him it is all the same ingredients but

he insists that it isn't. (I also tell him that

Mexican is all the same, just different

names prepared a little differently.

My meatloaf is pretty good. I have

eaten others that I like better than mine.

I use oatmeal for a binder and to slip

in something good for us, and NO!

I do not use an egg in it , do you?

WIPE-OUT!

2009-01-05T21:01:00.001-08:00

That's an old surfing term, wipe-out that is, from back

in my younger days. Oh, well, in my imagination, at least.

Fact is, I wrote a rather long post on January 5, and totally

erased it, and I do not know what I did. Guess I'll test the

tides by publishing this before I go any farther. I was quite

annoyed and I pouted a few days before trying again. I wish

I wasn't such a novice at the computer. Heck, you should

have seen the ancient Remington that I learned to type on,

then you'd say, "You've come a long way, baby!"

In case I lose this and it floats forever out there in cyberspace,

I have only one thing to say, and that is:

Life's a beach, isn't it?

Life's a beach,

DAZE OF AULD LANG SYNE

2008-12-30T18:42:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-29T11:12:00.000-08:00

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.

2008-12-11T05:25:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-09T08:54:00.000-08:00

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?)

2008-12-08T11:32:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-08T05:40:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-07T21:12:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-01T15:30:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-24T06:24:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-20T08:38:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-19T06:46:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-11-18T11:38:00.000-08:00

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!

2008-11-06T08:11:00.000-08:00

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

2008-11-05T12:03:00.001-08:00

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!

2008-11-03T08:00:00.000-08:00

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

2008-10-31T09:05:00.000-07:00

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

2008-10-28T11:48:00.000-07:00

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............

2008-10-27T19:39:00.000-07:00

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!

2008-10-09T12:48:00.001-07:00

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!

2008-10-09T12:48:00.000-07:00