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Thursday, December 29, 2011

Well, what shall we write about today? Aunt Lena!

Yesterday I went to the dentist and I am now able to say I know exactly what Mother meant when she whacked me upside the head and told me to quit opening bottles with my teeth.  Wish she would have told me what would happen if I continued using them for a pair of pliers, but she didn't.  And of course the trip across town rendered the usual idiot that passed me on the left, cut in front of me to get to the right turning lane and then swerved back when he finally figured out which way was left while all the while keeping that damn cell phone firmly attached to his ear!  We seem to not have any laws concerning that sort of thing as "Johnny Law"  remained unperturbed behind me.  I thought about tapping my brakes to wake him up, but I know how my luck runs and I do not need a husband named Sally at this point in my life.
So that is what I intended to write about today, but when I woke up I had Aunt Lena on my mind.  Now I do not have a picture of her and Sister Donna is not awake yet, but I can see her as clearly in my mind as if she were standing right here in front of me. 
Aunt Lena was born to Johann Jakob Haas and Maria Dorothea Schrade (nee) on May 6, 1893.  She was given the name Magdalena Haas.  This was in keeping with the name Maria Magdalena, a daughter born to his first wife in Dettingen, Germany who was born in 1874 and passed in 1876 at the tender age of 1 year and 10 months. ( This was common to rename a new baby for one that had not survived.)  Aunt Lena was the 12th of 13 living children born to Johann Jakob.  Two children had died in infancy.  Prolific old fellow if you get my drift.  ;)
The Haas family settled in near Plevna, Kansas.  Now some how this gets very confusing.  The Gagnebin family lived near Abbyville, Kansas.  Helen Gagnebin married Frank Miller.  They had two daughters, Josie and Helen, and  one son,  Lewis Miller.  At some point in time Helen and Frank Miller wound up living next door (within a mile of each other.) to the Haas Family.  At that juncture my grandfather, Christoph Adam Haas (from Great Grandfathers first wife deceased)  in Germany married Josie Emma Miller in 1900.  She became my grandmother.  Seven years later Gottlieb Haas (Who replaced Gottlieb Haas who had only lived 7 months and died the year before Uncle Goll was born.) married her sister, Mabel Helen Miller.  All of these children are double cousins.  When Uncle Lou Miller cast his eyes on Magdalena Haas, Great Grandmother  came un wound and said "No!  Too many Haas's have married too many Miller's!"  Back in those days children actually listened to thier parents, so Lou and Lena were not married.  Uncle Lou later married a lady named Eva.  Aunt Lena never married.  She remained in Plevna and I think she took in sewing and cleaning and laundry.  I am sure she never worked at a job, per se, but she managed to be self sufficient.  I know she rented rooms to "old maid school teachers", but we never called her an old maid.  No way!  She was just Aunt Lena who was not married. 
But she was great!  I remember going to her house which was a block or so from Grandma Haas.  Aunt Lena kept a stock tank there full of water and let us kids get in it in the summer when it was hot.  Course we wore our clothes, but that was the fun part; letting them dry on us when it was really hot!  My first taste of air conditioning.  Her house had two or three bedrooms and was very simple.  Every where was crocheted doilies and table cloths; the same as grandma's house.   I recall the porch and the Lilac bushes all over her yard.  When I smell Lilac's in the yard now, I am transported to Plevna, Kansas and my dear Aunt Lena.  I do not think she ever painted her house.  Seems like it was always old gray bare wood.
She had an old car, which was probably new at the time and sometimes she would take us for a ride in the country.  If we spotted a creek she would whip that old Packard (?) over and we would leap out and climb the fence.  Aunt Lena knew how to pull the front of her skirt between her legs and tuck the tail in the waist band.  This made us wear pantaloons!  We did not dare to get that muddy water on our clothes or we would have been punished.
A funny thing I remember about Aunt Lena was the way she talked.  She never opened her mouth.  It was like her teeth were stuck together.  I'm sure they came apart because she had to eat, but not necessary to talk.  Aunt Lena was never sad, nor happy.  She would tell stories of the old days.  She knew every family member and what they were doing and when they had a new baby and everyone's birthday and where anyone with a drop of Haas blood in thier viens was at any given point in history.  I guess she was the family Historian.  She was my grandfathers sister and since I never knew grandpa she would tell me things about him.  I do not remember the stories, but I remember her saying "Your grandpa."  Never called him by name, just my grandpa.  I do wish I had known him.
Her and Aunt Mable made me a quilt and hand quilted it when Duane and I had been married for 5 years.  They made a quilt called Postage Stamp.  It probably had a million tiny squares and it was so pretty and the stitches were so tiny.  To this day I do not know where it went, but I do know where it isn't.  I think someone stole it when I was in Garden City, Kansas.  It was one of those now you see it and now you don't things.  I remember putting it away in a very safe place in our apartment on Jenny street.  And then it was just no more.
Aunt Lena was tall, or so it seemed.  Back when I was 4 feet tall everyone was tall.  And I remember Aunt Lena was so wrinkled.  I mean her face.  Maybe it was a combination of the hot Kansas wind and the farm life and maybe it was just my imagination.  Or it could be that when I lived with grandma Haas in 1955, Aunt Lena was 63 years old.  But she was the same wrinkled when she died in 1994 at the age of 101.  She lived alone in her home until just shortly before her death.  As I recall some kind soul had made arrangements for Meals on Wheels to deliver food to her on a daily basis.  That did not last long as she couldn't eat tha stuff.  One thing the Haas family is famous for is cooking.  And cook we do.  We use cream, butter, bacon, yeast and when a meal hits the table there are no boxes in the trash.  Kind of hard to eat institutional food after doing it yourself for 90+ years.  I know for supper every night she had popcorn.  Dry, I think.  But sometimes she put milk on it.  Popcorn is a staple here at my house, but it is just an occasional snack, not a meal!
The last time I seen Aunt Lena was at the family reunion that used to be every September in Plevna, Kansas at the high school gymnasium.  That was all that was left was the gym.  Aunt Lena was there and she must have been about 98.  Earl Boyd was also there.  He was a second cousin by marriage or something.  I will have to research that.  (And I will because there is another story to tell.)  Earl was probably 85 or so, but he had macular degeneration and could barely see.  Aunt Lena and Earl were visiting and I over heard there conversation.
"Lena, I would love to go see the old home place, but I don't have a car.  Do you have a car?"
"Yes, Earl, I have my car and it runs good, but I do not drive that far. (The home place was 4 miles away, but you had to cross highway 50.) Can you drive?"
"Well, yeah, but I can't see.  I am blind. But I can drive.  Can you see?"
"Yes, I can see really well, but I just can't drive."  Then Earl had a brilliant idea.
"I can drive and you can direct me!  We will have to go very slow cause if we wind up in the ditch we will be in big trouble!   I don't have a license any more and they would give me a ticket."
Then they both fell into silence and sat there a few minutes before Earl said "This old age sure ain't what it is cracked up to be."  Then they both chuckled and I could not help but smile.
But it is sad.  I told them the next time I made it to town (and at that point I always took Earl with me) I would round them up and go wherever they wanted to go.  But of course time and tide wait for no man and that never happened.  I never saw Aunt Lena again, but how lucky I am to have my memories.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

If only the refrigerator lasted as long as the light bulb.

In 2002 I bought this refrigerator.  Last weekend the light bulb burned out.  So off I went like the little red hen to Lowe's to buy a light bulb for the refrigerator.  While I was there I intended to get a one inch screen for the bathroom sink drain.  I had bought one that was 1 1/8 inch but it would not go in the hole.  So I first looked for the screen.  I only found  1 1/8 inch one.  I asked the lady and she said that was the smallest they made.  That did not make sense to me.  If I have a sink that needs a one inch one, why do they not make one?  So I wandered along and decided I could put the plunger thing in and that would work.  Lot harder than dropping a screen in a hole, but what do I know.  As I reached for the plunger apparatus I spied a one inch screen.  Aha!  The expert was wrong. I grabbed that sucker and headed for the lighting department.
Well, that is not where light bulbs are located.  Silly me!  They are on the other end of the store.  Special aisle for them.  And then I started to get dizzy.  Do you have any idea how many different light bulbs there are?  And how many watts?  and what size screw in or snap on or tube and Lordy, I thought my head would explode.  I finally found what I wanted.  60 watts.  Can be used inside, outside , for appliances or lamps.  Just what I wanted,  but wait one minute!  They come in packs of four.  I have one refrigerator.  The bulb that just burned out had lasted 9 years.  If I bought the four pack could I expect my refrigerator to last another 36 years?  No.  I would then be left with extra bulbs and I am trying to break this hoarding habit I have.   So I continued to comb the aisle looking for a single bulb.  Or I could buy three refrigerators and hope they had no light bulb.  That was not feasible either.  At last I gave in to the giant conglomerate that runs the hardware store and put the 4 pack of bulbs in my basket.
Upon arrival at the check out I decided, against my better judgement, to do the self check.  Ok, scan the little 1" screen.  "Put item in the bag."  I did that.  "Place item in bag." I tapped the bag.  "Place item in bag!"  Now she was getting firm with me. I poked the one that said "skip bagging" and she seemed to relax.  Scanned the light bulbs and went through the whole thing again.  I poked finish and pay.  Fed a $10 bill into the greedy little slot and waited for my change.  Change shot out one hole.  Dollar shot out across the way and the receipt fell to the floor.  I gathered my money and receipt and looked at the man in charge.  I looked at him and said "I hate that bitch!"  He never flinched, just asked me, "So do you want your stuff?"  Red faced I grabbed my bag and hurried to the car and home to my little piece of heaven where no one hollers at me and I am always right.  And if I so choose, I can skip the bagging area!

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Merry Christmas from the land of ice and snow!

I missed church last night.  First time that has happened in many years.  My driveway is about half a block long and according to my calculations we got over a foot and a half of snow on the level.  Course a little breeze did whip me up a few drifts that were well past my knees and made walking to the goose house to tend my feathered friends a real chore.  Out here in the county when the snow plow goes on South Road the end of my drive gets a double dose.  Now my neighbor man has a four wheel drive so he can get out.  A couple daughters came bearing gifts, but then again, we have the 4 wheel drive factor.  I do not know if any of you have ever tried to drive a small front wheel drive car in the tracks of a big 4 wheel drive truck or SUV, but that is one feat you are not going to accomplish. 
Yesterday morning I did manage to make it to the road but I had to shovel my young self out 4 or 5 times.  I finally quit counting.  I made up my mind that if I could just make it back home I would not leave until spring.  So when I made it up the drive and slid into a place where I could leave the car, I jumped out and ran inside.  And here I still am this morning.  And here I shall remain,but then...
Yesterday evening when I saw church was not an option, I went down to sew.  When I came up I looked out and the good fairy had came and cleared the drive and  the parking in front of my house and the neighbors house.  That was a sight which made me most happy.  I strongly suspect that it was the neighbor man's father in law.  He has a bobcat and while his name slips my mind, he is a very nice man.  So now options are opening up for me again here on Christmas day.  I think I will drift over to the step daughter's house or Kenny's ex wife's and then wind up at the Zane house for dinner (the one at noon).  Then I may cruise up to Florence and see Amanda and the Bretster.  Going to load the new serger up and have him show me how to thread it properly.  The sucker has 8 threads and is way beyond my scope of expertise.
But I thought I would just pop on in here and wish you all a very, very Merry Christmas and remember that Jesus is the reason for the season!  While I know most of you think of me as a Grinch, and that would be because I told you I am, I do have a tiny little spark way deep down that loves Christmas. 
Oh, not the shopping, or the sales, or the hoopla that surrounds it, but the quiet little time when I can look up into a clear December sky and focus on a very bright star that twinkles at me and reminds me of the night so long ago when the baby Jesus was born in a manger.  (I know December 25 may not have been the actual date, but it suffices for us to accept that date. ) As I think about that scene with Mary and Joseph and how far the wise men traveled and the Shepard's and the sheep and all of that, I think I can hear the angels sing.
Merry Christmas To All and God Bless Us Everyone!

Friday, December 23, 2011

Now this is what snow looks like at my house.

Happy Anniversary to me.

 First let me say, I do not share this anniversary with Kay and Frank. Thiers is in August.  That is why it catches me off guard when i see it in the church bulletin.  That is a mistake every year.

Well, it is Friday, December 23, 2011. I know where I was on this date in 1983 and I know what temperature it was.  I was here, in this house preparing to become a new bride.  Kenny and I had been living together for just over a year.  My theory on that was that I did not have a very good track record in the marriage department, so I decided if we could live together for one year that it should be good to go.  So now the year was up.

Kenny had dropped a drive line in one of the dump trucks and had left it to be repaired at Pueblo Brake and Clutch.  Gene Baugh was helping him on the repair work.  It was -15 degrees so working outside was not a fun thing anyway.  Well, about 11 AM they had gone to pick up the drive line and found the shop closed for the Christmas Party.  No way to get it and so what to do with the rest of the day?  We had decided a while back that marriage was definitely an option, so him being the romantic that he was, he stomped the snow off his boots, slammed the door behind himself and announced, "Well, let's go get this shittin' mess over with!"

Now, ladies, who could resist anything that romantic?  I happened to have a new pair of jeans, a very nice checkered western shirt, and a new pair of white cowgirl boots.  He had some nice Levi's and a clean shirt, and wellington boots.  So off we toodled to Canon City.  Went there because Pueblo published marriage licenses in the paper every day and we did not want the fuss and bother of explaining why we never invited anyone.  We got to the Canon City courthouse about 30 minutes before closing, grabbed out license and the name of a retired minister and away we went.  4th floor of the retirement home.  Nice little man, but I forgot his name.  Two witnesses to sign.  One was his wife who was bedridden and another was walking down the hall and knew how to spell her name.  Whole thing took about 7 minutes and that included introductions, staging, and paying for his
services.  Then it was off to our wedding supper.  That was a chocolate covered doughnut and a cup of coffee at the doughnut shop.

When we got home we found a note from Gene.  "Congratulations!"  And a bottle of very cheap wine.  We never did get that gagged down.  We asked Gene to share a few months later and his response was "If I knew I had to drink it I would have got the good stuff."  Finally found a son in law who could be talked into drinking about anything.  He shook it up good and when he took his thumb off the cork, it flew out of the bottle, hit the ceiling, and ricocheted into the side of my head and almost cold cocked me.  Made him take it with him when he left since he was the last one to touch the bottle.

So now here I set 28 years later.  It is -7 below zero.  Got a foot and a half of snow out there on the level.  Got no Kenny, but I got a lot of memories.  It may have started out  a little non traditional, but it was quite the ride and I would not undo one minute of those years.  And when life gets a bit more than I can handle, I remember Kenny and the song he always said was "ours" and when you have that once in your life, once is probably enough.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EigVvZMw3Ds&feature=fvsr

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

All these years and now Friday is coming!

This is going to be a Happy Anniversary to Frank and Kay, Friday I mean.  And I am going to do a special on that day because that is also the anniversary of Kenny and I.  Funny how I have known Kay and Frank all these years and it just dawned on me that we shared this day in history.  Guess that is because I been walking around all wrapped up in myself all these years.  Best part of this is that a couple (?) years back I helped plan a surprise Anniversary party for them with their son.  Dense, dense, dense!
So now I am pretty busy with year end orders for eBay and trying to contend with this foot of snow here in my yard and all up my driveway, and the daughter is here and we are making her a quilt.  So,  I will see you on Friday.  In the meantime, if any of you want to come and lend me a hand, you just feel free to come on over with your shovel.  Right now it is 2 degrees.

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

A Colorado snowfall in real life!



Well, now if it has to snow, this is the way to do it.  Here I set snowed in by a foot of snow with one daughter, one grand daughter, one grand something in law, and two great grandsons, ages 2 & 5.  The highways are closed from here to Kansas and beyond.  Help!!
Some one suggested tranquilizers for them, but I find it works better if I take them along with a big shot of Jack Daniels!
I have measured all over the back yard and come up with a figure any where from 9 inches to 23 inches.  So I guess it is anyones guess as to how much we got, but here is the good news...it has stopped snowing and the sun is shining, so snow is going to be out of here in short order.  This is Colorado and I am in the Banana Belt part of the state.  The moisture here is usually nil, if you get my drift.  Even the geese did not get very excited when they saw the snow.  Just walked out and when they figured out their bellies were dragging bottom they just sat down.  They do not seem to mind the snow at all.  The only thing they do insist on is that the straw in the house stays dry.  I guess they are silly.  That is where that saying mother used to use came from...."Oh, you silly goose!"
OK.  I am going to go call Debbie and see if she is buried yet.  Just wanted you to know that I am house bound for a while.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Happy Birthday to the baby boy!

Kind of hard to tell that this is my baby boy.  But it is.  Last one of the litter.  And today he turns 20.  Just one more before the big one.  Course he has already flown the nest and he and his girlfriend are in their own home in Florence.  You would be amazed at what all they are learning.  Gas to drive to and from work is very costly.  And groceries are out of sight.  It is not really necessary to have 2 cell phones with "Everything data" from Sprint for $178.00.  That is not all though.  They have also figured out that if they do not pick up after themselves, house work is a never ending chore.  Think that was their rudest awakening.  I have figured out that they were not the only messy ones living here.
But it is his happy birthday and I can not help but remember where I was when I turned 20.  I had been married for 11 months and was 5 months pregnant with the Debbie.  A couple months earlier we were living in Yates Center, Kansas.  I had gone to the doctor and when he said I was going to have a baby my mind leapt around the small town. 
" Well, where is the hospital?"  That seemed like a very good question to me.  He, however, looked at me like I had just landed my spaceship.
"Well, it is about 75 miles away."
"Well, what about when I get ready to have his baby?  How do I get there?"  Then he sighed and looked at me like I was a complete idiot.
"Well, around these parts, women have their babies to home."  I immediately left his office, ran down the street to where I had left Duane in the pool hall, having a beer to settle his nerves.  When he saw my face he knew we had a situation.
"What did the doctor say?"  And I broke it to him as gently as possible given my terrified state.
"Well, he said pack up your clothes because you are going to have to move back to Hutchinson, cause there is no where to have babies around here."  And we did.
Now what all that has to do with Bret is more than I can understand, but you knew I would make it into something all about me, didn't you?
So, Happy Birthday to the baby boy.  I know he will not get to read this because his new frugal lifestyle does not allow him to have high speed internet and even if he did he does not read my blog.  I only have 3 kids out of  10 that does.  That is 30%.  Kind of poor percentage rate if you ask me, but who am I to judge?
OK. I have got to figure out what to do for the little guy's birthday.  Probably spanking him is clear out of the question.  And when they grow up and leave home, momma is no longer responsible for his every thing like when he was a baby.

But gee, I kind of miss those days.!

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Got to weigh in on this one!

Texting while driving?  Are you guilty of that!  Oh, I got to tell you, most of the people in this town are not capable of driving when they focus full attention on the road!  The sure are not able to carry on a conversation with someone in the car let alone on the phone and drive with any responsibility.  So now lets give them a teeny tiny typewriter and turn them loose on the public.  I am very happy to see that finally the National News is picking this up and running with it.  Why is eveyone so far behind me and I am not that bright?
Now under no conditions do I think the American public that is doing the yapping and texting while driving are responsible for this!  No!  I blame Obama!  Well, not really, but the poor guy gets it for everything else, so just wanted to throw that out as an option.
I do blame Technology.  We can put a man on the moon.  We can put a computer in a device that is 3 inches by 5 inches and an eighth of an inch thick and capable of flashing a missive around the world in 2 seconds, but we can not stop an idiot from using it while driving down the road and 75 miles an hour.  That is almost faster than the speed of light!  It has been stated that it takes 10 to 20 seconds of having your eyes focused on the screen to send a short message.  And then read the return.  Lot can happen in just a few seconds.  Hell, I have conceived in less time then that!
In my usual haphazard way of watching the news I did see that a national something or other has a campaign going showing the last message on the cell phone before hitting a brick wall.  Real important stuff like YEAH, lol, yes, no. And that could not have waited?  I am with them on the ban of these devices while driving.  I am also in favor of enforcing that law.  I would go further and say I am in favor of us drivers who do not do this being able to enforce it also.  If I see someone texting while driving, I should be able to pull out my gun and shoot them.  Or ram them and knock them off the road.  Oh, do I sound a bit radical?  Well, I hate that, but I also hate coming on a twisted mess of metal that was once a car and seeing the body bag being carried off to the ambulance.  See the sad part about this whole selfish mess is it is not always the guy with his finger on the phone that is in the bag.  Sometimes it is the little old lady setting at the stop sign thinking about church on Sunday.  Or the silly boy who thought just cause he was in the cross walk that he was protected. 
I have got to get a sticker for my car that says. HANG UP AND DRIVE.  I doubt that will work though.  I been giving them the one fingered Hawaiian good luck sign and they don't see that.  So for today, this is just my humble opinion.  Don't text and drive and don't talk and drive should be as simple to remember as don't drink and drive. 
Laters!

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

My first Christmas as a single mom, I think.

I do not remember just when I left the kids dad, but as I recall not much changed.  I was in Hutch and immediately went to work at Skaets Steak Shop as a waitress.  That was the good part about Skaet.  When I was first out on my own, I washed dishes at Skaets for a man named Norman Duschene who was the man who first started the place.  After that there were other owners, but always a Bartholomew working in some capacity there.  So when I left the husband and returned to Hutchinson, it was only natural that I go to work at Skaets.  I think my sister Donna was there at that time.  My  mother was working at the Red Rooster.  Ruth and Al Herrington were the owners than.  I had never waited tables in my life, but I told them how experienced I was and they put me right to work. 
Now I do recall that both Duane and I were having a little problem adjusting to this not being married stuff.  I do not remember when we actually divorced, but we surely must have.  The first Christmas I loaded the kids in the car and drove the 130 miles to his mom's house.  Some how one of us missed the memo and he went to Hutchinson to my empty house.  At that time he lived in Garden City.  Hey!  It has been a long time and a lot of water under the bridge, you know.  I know the first year and a half was pretty confusing.  We at one point, well several points actually, reconciled.  I left Skaets and went to the Red Rooster where I met Gilbert who was a good friend of mothers and he and I became friends.  I did not stay there very long because I was offered a job as short order cook at the Red Carpet by Bob Bailey.  That was a dream come true, because I had always wanted to be a cook.  So I bade the Red Rooster good bye and embarked  on to greener pastures.
So now we are to the second Christmas.  Duane did not come for this one.  My dear Gibby helped me shop and then he played Santa.  A note here about Gilbert.  We always knew he was  gay.  But we loved that boy.  He was so much fun and so kind.  Later he was to move to California and be one of the first of many to die of AIDS.  He became infected after I moved to Colorado and when I left Hutch I never saw him again.  He did keep in touch and we planned to meet for Thanksgiving the year he died.  Bad timing.
But back to Christmas.  We had bought a miniature doll house for the girls.  Metal.  And it needed to be assembled which entailed folding out little metal tabs, putting them in a slot and folding them down.  Well, we put the kids to bed and then decided maybe we should have a little eggnog with just a touch of Rum to celebrate the season.  Let me be the first to say, sharp metal tabs, pointy pliers and eggnog laced with Rum is not a good combination.  Nor is a couple drunks trying to climb a ladder and decorate a tall Christmas tree.  In all fairness I must say I never dreamed a Christmas tree had that many pokey things on it and I would never have guessed how much blood you can smear on the little red wagon and the tinsel without some body passing out.  How those kids slept through all that was more than I will ever know.  Course Gib had to spend the night because he was too drunk to walk to the car.  I actually slept under the tree since that was where I ran out of steam.  I think he must have called someone to come get him cause he was gone the next morning.
The kids were thrilled that Santa had actually came and did all he did.  Man so was I.  He almost bankrupted me, but the kids were happy. 
Lot happened there at 217 West 5th.  Some good, some bad.  I became manager of the Red Carpet, but restaurant work is rarely permanent.  I left the Red Carpet and bought a place on 4th right across from MacDonalds.  Named that one Lou's Kitchen  Had that for a year and then fell in love and moved to Colorado.  Course I fell out of love as quickly as I had fallen in, but such is life.  Colorado has been good to me.  I graduated college with a gold cord.  Married a couple guys, one of which is the one I should have married in the first place.  Helped start a construction company; well actually two construction companies.  Started a trucking company.  I have friends and I have people who tolerate me and I have a driving need to keep moving and changing, which I suppose is good, for the most part.  I think this next year I am going to start downsizing.  Who knows what that means exactly?  Just hang with me and find out!  But first I have to get through this Christmas.

Monday, December 12, 2011

Maybe it is time to rethink the Santa thing!

I have once more been called a Grinch.  Now why do people do that?  I am not a Grinch.  I think Christmas is wonderful.  Or at least the part about the baby Jesus.  And the wise men.  And the shepherds.  I like the Christmas tree and the carols and all that stuff.  What I have a problem with is the commercialism.  Black Friday, Super Saturday, Something Monday.  How much are sales up?  How much are sales down?
I remember the last Christmas that I thought the presents were from Santa.  For years I had written the letter to Santa telling him how bad I wanted a dolly.  Dolly's were different than as opposed to now.  They had plastic legs and arms and a hard plastic head.  And if you got a really good one it would cry when you tilted it back and then it would close it's eyes.  I finally got the dolly. And  I loved that dolly.  And I could not figure out how she knew to close her eyes.  Unfortunately for dear dolly, neither could my brother, Jake.  But he had a solution for that.  Little tap on the back of the head with the hammer and all Dolly's secrets were revealed.  There were weights that caused her eyes to close.  And in all fairness he did try to glue the back of her head back on, but she was just never the same.  And since he had pretty well performed a patrial lobotomy on her, it was just another step to rip her stomach open and see what made her cry.  That was a sort of thing that when you laid her down, air went through an opening and made her cry. 
Now Jake did make me promise that I would not tell mother what he had done.  But mother's have a way of finding this stuff out.  I tried to tell her that I had done it, because I knew he was going to get a licking.  I was a girl so I did not get punished like the boy did.  And mother never did it herself.  Maybe Dad did.  I don't remember.  I do know he got in very bad trouble.  I could not understand why Mother was so upset.  It had come from Santa, but you would have thought it came out of her pocket.  Hmmm.
But that is not the Christmas gift I remember the most.  The last one I remember and it will always stick in my mind was simply a book, a red ball, an orange and some candy in a sack.  I  think I remember it most because that was the year I made the connection with momma and Santa Claus.  All the years that I thought he was so wonderful, he did not even exist.  My mother was putting money away a little at a time so us little ragamuffins could get something from Santa.
Santa has been going around garnering praise for all these years while mothers and fathers do without so he can get the glory.  I did it for my kids and in keeping with the season, I am going to tell about some of the Christmas's for my little kiddies.  I am not real proud of all of them, but they are what they are.  It is hard to hide the truth for very long.  So let me get my head together and I will share with you a few of the Seeger Family Christmases!

Saturday, December 10, 2011

And this is why Country Music will be around when I am gone.

I had a friend, key word here is "had", who explained to me that country was not an acceptable venue as far as the true music fans went.  He further went on to explain to me that the others in the Music Chat room on eBay had never tolerated Country until I came along and were only doing so because I was well liked in the room and had become buddies with some of the old timers.  Well, the Chat rooms on eBay are now history, but I still hang out with a few of those who were in there.  We have located to another chat room outside of eBay so we are all good to go.  Unfortunately I do not have the friend who said that to me, but I do still have Country Music.  And that is just why Country is here at my house and it always will be. 
See us country women do not have to dress up to the nines to go out.  We are just as at home in a pair of cut offs as the city girls are in silk and satin.  Some times we do like to "put on the dog" just to show the "good old boys" that it can be done.  We could stand around in a shimmery gown with our hair piled up high and hold a martini glass and you would never know we were hicks.  That is the beauty of country girls.  Try bringing your fancy ladies down to the farm to wrestle a baby calf away from it's momma, or throw the hay over the fence to the horse.  Ain't gonna happen, is it?  Your women don't like the smell of manure, but to us old country gals it is the smell of freedom and a steak on the grill.
And when you listen to the music that you listen to, does it tie your guts up in a knot?  I don't think so.  When we sing, we sing of heartache, pain, death, lust, happiness, tears and laughter.  Oh, yeah, and prison.  Our music has words that can wring tears out of the hardest heart.  I listen to yours and I have to try to identify the various instruments and then of course there is that other kind about "Whose yo' momma?" or "Who Let the Dogs Out?" God help me if I ever ended up at the Opera.  Oh, but then there is the "Grand Old Opera" isn't there?  My music tells a story of my roots and it doesn't pull any punches.  Give me a man whose left hand is calloused and I will give you a guitar picker.  I tried to learn to play the guitar once and my fingers were so sore that I gave it up.  And it did not matter that my teacher kissed them, they still hurt. 
Now I think it is fine that you like your music and I do not dispute your right to that, but leave me alone with Willie and Waylon and the boys and a little Hank and Lefty and we will be good to go, cause I gotta tell you this  Redneck Woman  is here to stay!  Hell Ya!  Hell Ya!

Friday, December 9, 2011

Happy Birthday to Kenny.

Kenny with the Polly dog.  Kenny sharing breakfast with Rowdy bird.  Jimmy modeling for Kenny!

Just a few of the things I miss.  Today he would be 80 years old.  Lots of people are living way past that, but I think that is not good always.  He spent his last birthday in ICU.  That was definitely not good.  And he spent his last Christmas on a respirator.  New Years too.

All I have to say today is that I am very glad I have my memories and if I ever lose them, just shoot me.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Weaver Guild Christmas Party!!



Now if you will click on that slide show it will get very big.  then you will be able to read what they are also.  I did not put names on them because that would take way to much of my valuable time.  Suffice it to say a good time was had by all!  A better time was had by these two!
Joanne Caldwell brought some wedding punch which contains a quart of Tequila.  She omitted the Tequila since we were all driving, but these two did not know that!  This is Donna Graham and Cathy Coatney who normally are very quiet and sedate, you know respectable members of the guild, but for some reason it was laugh at Lou day and I did not say anything to get them started.  I was my usual quiet sedate self.  They were discussing Mistletoe and I may have made an off handed remark, but I can not be sure.
So, any way, there was lots of very good food there and if you ever get a chance pop in on a pot luck hosted by a bunch of gabby women trying to out do each other.  I am thinking of joining a lot of these womens groups so I can get big and fat.  Or not.
Just want to say Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to my Handweavers Guild of Pueblo.  Probably not going to see most of you until the next meeting, so this is for all of you:

May your joys be many,
Your heartaches be few.
And may the dear Baby Jesus
Sprinkle Star Dust on You!

Smiles, Lou


Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Both ends of the rainbow at my house this morning.




See this?  It was very cold and wind chill was -16.  This is when I went out to take care of the geese.  When I poked the hole in the surface with the wrecking bar water squirted straight in the air.  That tells me I need to pick up a tank heater to keep my tank from rupturing.
Ok, I got  a dentist appointment this morning so I got to get around.  Just wanted to show you my rainbow.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Milton Hershey School and my boycott on Hershey Products.

In case you missed it, this statement was released on December 1, which was World AIDS Day.  I can not let this one slide by and was on facebook until late last night with defenders of MHS. I must say these people are very biased and uneducated.

Here is the entire statement from the Hershey School:Today, Milton Hershey School had planned to file a request in federal court asking the court to review our decision to deny enrollment to a child who is HIV positive because of concerns for the health and safety of our current students.
We had been in discussions with the AIDS Law Project of Pennsylvania, which is representing this 13-year-old boy. Recognizing the complex legal issues, the School was preparing to ask the court to weigh in on this matter. Unfortunately, attorneys for the young man took the adversarial action of filing a lawsuit against the School.
The decision to deny enrollment was a challenging one for us to make. Like all our enrollment decisions, we need to balance our desire to serve the needs of an individual child seeking admission with our obligation to protect the health and safety of all 1,850 children already in our care.
Attorneys for this young man and his mother have suggested that this case is comparable to the Ryan White case. But this case is actually nothing like the Ryan White case. Milton Hershey School is not a day school, where students go home to their family at the end of the day. Instead, this is a unique home-like environment, a pre-K to 12 residential school where children live in homes with 10 to 12 other students on our campus 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
In order to protect our children in this unique environment, we cannot accommodate the needs of students with chronic communicable diseases that pose a direct threat to the health and safety of others.The reason is simple. We are serving children, and no child can be assumed to always make responsible decisions which protect the well-being of others.
That is why, after careful review and analysis, we determined we could not put our children at risk.

By
Dan Stamm for NBC News (Philadelphia)


Now, my take on this.  I am sure the MHS is a privately owned and privately funded school and I am sure they do not have to let this boy in.  That is neither here nor there.  What upsets me is the reasoning and ignorance behind the statements "our decision to deny enrollment to a child who is HIV positive because of concerns for the health and safety of our current students." and "In order to protect our children in this unique environment, we cannot accommodate the needs of students with chronic communicable diseases that pose a direct threat to the health and safety of others."
We work very hard teaching people that HIV/AIDS is a chronic disease and must be managed as such, and then we encounter educated people like this that runs screaming from a 13 year old boy who carries the infection, just breaks my heart.
I volunteer with a group that is funded by Ryan White.  The Clinic is funded by Ryan White.  Education is one of the main goals of Ryan White.  The White family did not ever want another child to go through what their son went through, hence the goal of education.  We deal with AIDS clients on a daily basis.  I feed them, hug them, kiss them good bye.  I have set by bedsides as life ebbed from the frail body and held them so they were not alone.  I remain negative.
One of the defenders last night told me they have a trust fund and do not need my piddly amount of money that I spend on Hershey products.  That came as a shock to me because I use a can or two of cocoa every month and sometimes I grab a candy bar.  I will not go into all the conversations on facebook last night, but I must post this one.  Well, never mind.  They have suspended all posts on their site and  it is gone, but I remember it and it went like this "I AM A FIREFIGHTER AND GO TO THIS SCHOOL AND I DO NOT WANT HIM HERE!"  There was more, but it is all a moot point.
So I say this to you;  I will no longer buy any Hershey product. I can not in any way bring myself to put another cent into the coffers of a  member of this world community that refuses to be educated in a disease that strikes the innocent as well as the not so innocent.  We are all God's creatures and Hershey makes no mention of compassion, understanding and they are sending 1,850 students into the world every year to carry on thier message of intolerance.  If the people I encountered on thier site last night are any representation of these self same students I do not want to meet any of them on the street.  They have become mean intolerant big people.  I will stay here in my little world and do my humble service to the clients who need me and I will send a donation to this kid as soon as I get a site for him.  Not for his legal fund, but because it is kids like this who become the Ryan White's of tomorrow.


 

now:\r\nhttp://gan.doubleclick.net/gan_click?lid=41000000005217789&pubid=21000000000389168\r\n\r\nOr,

Thursday, December 1, 2011

World AIDS Day and the bliss of ignorance in youth.

Today being December 1 is of course, World AIDS Day.  I went to the Library at 10 this morning and hung my Memorial Quilt display with the help of John Mark, Linda, Julie and another lady who I forget her name.  Then I went to lunch, Bought goose food, stopped and visited my banker lady, came home, fell asleep in the chair and woke up to a whole new world.
The grand daughter came after school so she could go to the Observance this evening with me.  I forgot the cookies.  I forgot the camera. I forgot my water.  So I was pretty sure I was on a losing streak.  The program was fairly simple and went well.  Linda was the emcee. Joanne Grove presented the statistics which amazed me even now.  I must verify them before I report them, just cause that is what I do. Eddie Three Eagles told how AIDS affects the Native Americans.  And he remembered me from last year. I presented my two new panels and then they were blessed by Rev. Lamb. John Mark then gave his story putting a face on AIDS.  He has been positive for 27 years; over half of his life.  Then we all gave names to people who have passed and wrote their names on a red ribbon and hung them on the tree.  the ice cream cake donated by Dairy Queen was by that time starting to melt.  They should have opened a window and it would have frozen right back up.
The plan was to then go down to the first floor foyer and pick up a candle and have it lit and proceed outside.  Deven and I were inside and I was in no hurry to go out in the 1 degree weather.  Two young teenagers came in past the candle lighters and stopped near us.  The following conversation ensued.
Girl: I wonder why they are lighting those candles.
Me: It is in observance of World AIDS Day.
Girl: What is AIDS Day?
Boy:  That is that disease you hear about.  AIDS!
Girl: Oh, wow!  They are celebrating STD's?
Boy:  No, I don't think so.  I think they are not happy about it.
Me:  We do it in rememberance of all the people who have died.  But listen, we were up on the fourth floor and there is a lot of literature about it up there.  Also an ice cream cake that needs eaten.
Boy:  Gee, thanks. 
And they got in the elevator for the fourth floor. Deven and I looked at each other in amazement.  She is 14 and very wise for her years.  I was amazed that the two on their way up knew what STD's were.  I never figured that out until I was 40 years old.
But World AIDS Day is over for another year and my camera is hanging on the newel behind me where I hung it this morning so I would not forget it.  My quilts will be hanging on the fourth floor for a week and then I will go pick them up.  Guess they are on loan to the Library.  I am rather happy that they will be there so people can see and wonder what they are for.  So I put up a short paper on what they were and why they were there.
Now I am tired.  And it is very cold.  So I am going to nuke my rice bag and my corn bag and call it a night.  And I am going to throw another blanket on the bed.  I love to crawl in a cold bed and pull the covers way up, but I have the hot thing down there on my feet and off to sleep I go.  Life is good.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

I am just as serious as a heart attack!

Here I am having a visit with my geese.  There are 13 of those feathery fowl now.  This summer I did away with the pond and bought a really big stock tank.  My thoughts along that line were that it would be much easier to keep clean.  It is definitely easier.  And they love the thing.  Course I had to build them a dirt berm into it and a platform to give them footing to get out.  And in the digging process I screwed up my foot and neglected to go to the doctor so when I do get around to that I will probably have to have it amputated.  That is alright.  Easy come easy go.
So I had reason to be on the Southside a  week or so ago and happened upon a house which is currently being put on the market.  Full basement, 2 bedrooms up and 2 down.  Laundry down.  Patio. Storage shed with electric and cement floor in the back yard.  2 Car attached garage.  And neighbors.  Located on a cul de sac, so low traffic.  3 blocks from my friends Kay and Frank.  And the price is right.  I could sell this place and buy that one and put enough in the bank to live on for probably the rest of my life.
Now, I am thinking about this very seriously.  Yard work would be minimal.  Kitchen is a bit dated, but so am I.  The appliances are all new.  So is the furnace.  Only draw back is no outside fowl are allowed in the city.  Imagine the neighbors when I pull up with my stock tank and 13 honking geese!   If I could get lucky and find someone to buy this place that would take the geese and promise to never sell them, or eat them, or let the fox eat them, I would be headed for town in a New York minute. (That means really fast!)
Winter is coming on and I am sure at some point it is going to snow.  The pond will freeze.  The geese will run out of feed and all kinds of problems happen out doors.  I do not like winter.  Pueblo is not as bad as Hutchinson used to be.  We are kind of in a hole here and severe anything is just not the norm.  But if I was in town, I could just stay in the house.  Well, I still have to shovel the walk.  Except there I would have to shovel the driveway, my sidewalk and the one in front of the house. Here I just mash it down.  Cities have rules.  I forgot that.
So maybe I will just wait a little longer until I am really old and I can go into the Assisted living.  Hmmm.  Wonder if they will let me bring the 2 dogs, cat, 2 looms, machine quilter, embroidery machine, ebay crap.....
Guess I am going to be cursed with living forever!

Monday, November 28, 2011

Hey, I may be on schedule with WAD!



There is my little slide show.  I went down last night and actually started the AIDS Ribbons.  See on World AIDS Day, which will be December 1 at the Hoag Library, I have much to do.  First I had to make 2 new panels for friends who have passed this last year.  I got that done on Saturday.  They will be dedicated at our program by Rev Jeannine Lamb and Rev. Mark Hild.  That is always a very solemn occasion.
I also need to make cookies for the reception and gathering time.  I have a freezer full of those already.  See PFLAG gives out goodie bags to all the clients at the SCAP Christmas party.  So since we need 36 bags this year and have very few bakers, I will do my share.
The last thing on the agenda is our candlelight service.  This is when we dedicate a ribbon to someone who has died from AIDS.  I have 50 made and will probably do another 25 or so.  Already bought the sharpee to write the names with .  We then take them out side to a tree and hang them on as we call out thier name.  Some times we tell a  little about them.
Eddie Three Eagles and his group will sanctify the tree and grounds as per native traditions.  Now this year is special, or at least to me it is.  The Pueblo AIDS Memorial Quilt, which is my personal project, will hang on the 4th floor of the Library for one full week.  I need to write up a thing on what this is and how it came into fruition.
This will once more be an all day event.  Not at the Library, per se, but both colleges will be doing testing.  That is always a busy time.  Last year we only did the PCC campus and we had no positive results.  In this case, positive is not good.  We are testing for the HIV and positive means you have it.  So we want negative.  We are hoping for the same thing this year.
So this is what I been up to.  Hope to see some of you at the Library.  We are shooting for a 5:45 P M start.  See you there!

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Wouldn't it be great if we could keep the kids little forever?

I guess probably the hardest thing for a mother to do is nothing.  There comes that time in a child's life when Momma can't help.  It is called reality.  They must make their own decisions and follow through.  That is where my son is at this moment.  His doggie has lots of problems that are not going to go away.  So.  The hardest thing in this life is to decide to euthanize a beloved pet.  Our pets never hurt us.  They give unconditional love and they do it every day, all day long.  They may not feel well, but they love us.  I can not remember how many times I walked in the vet's office with a dog, or cat, or bird, and walked out with my arms empty.  It never gets easier.  I always thought some day I would get used to it, but I never have.
I do think that I am a better person because of the animals that have gone through my life.  So tonight while I am sad, I am proud that my son can do what is right and know that he will be a better man.  More understanding because he has loved and lost.
Some one wrote a piece once.  It is called the Rainbow Bridge and it tells it just like it is.
Rainbow Bridge
There is a bridge connecting heaven and earth
It is called Rainbow Bridge because of its many colours
Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows,
hills, valleys with lush green grass
When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this special place
There is always food and water and warm spring weather
The old and frail are young again
Those who are maimed are made whole again
They play all day with each other
There is only one thing missing
They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth
So each day they run and play until the day comes
when one suddenly stops playing and looks up !
The nose twitches !
The ears are up !
The eyes are staring !
And this one suddenly runs from the group !
You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet,
you take him or her into your arms and embrace
your face is kissed again and again,
and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet
Then you cross the Rainbow Bridge together, never again to be separated
Author Unknown


This has brought me much solace.  Peace Little Oliver.  

Friday, November 25, 2011

Class? Me? No, I don't think so.

Some one told me one time that I had class.  Well, did not so much tell me as mentioned it to someone else and I over heard it being said.  So now yesterday I had  hours alone with myself in the car and I had occasion to think about class.  There seems to be more than one kind of class, as near as I can tell.
If  an older woman walks by, dressed in a sedate outfit, maybe a hat, rings on her fingers and smiling sweetly, one might say "That is one classy lady." 
If a younger woman with an hour glass figure, short skirt and lots of bling sashays by, one might say "That is one classy broad!"
If we are entertained by an act that gives us pleasure, we say "That was a real class act!"
When some one responds well under pressure, they are said to have "class".
Well, I would like to tell you what I perceive as "class".  That would be saying and doing the correct thing at all times when in a public setting.  And what brought this on?  Well, SWM (Single White Male) that I see on a more regular basis than any other SM (Single Male) wrangled an invitation to Thanksgiving Dinner at some one's house.  Now, granted had I been cooking I would have probably invited him and he probably would have eaten with me, but I did not, so neither did he.
So, he talks to himself a lot and I am privy to his conversations.  "I will take a bottle of white wine, since that goes with poultry.  I will wear my black slacks, a white shirt, my camel hair jacket, the gray, I think.  The black loafers.  No tie.  What will you be taking?"
"The car."
"What will you be wearing?"
"My green fatigues, if they are clean.  The white and green tennies.  An obnoxious tee shirt and the corduroy coat.  I will snack on a bag of Clementines and tortilla chips with Black Olive Hummus!  And Willie and Charley will serenade me all the way."  Love that country stuff.
The man is over 6 feet tall and so he definitely has the height advantage going there. And  his nose always seems to look longer when he looks down it at me!  He listens to Classical music in his garage for crying out loud!  He knows the origin of every painting on his walls.  One is to be donated to the museum in St. Louis when he goes for his final dirt nap.  (There is another one.  He prefers to think of it as his demise.)
So, to make a long story short, I am here to tell you that class is here to stay.  I am the working class, the blue collar class, the common every day country western lovin' hick or hillbilly class.  My bumper sticker reads, "If it feels good, do it!"  When I wake up on the wrong side of the sod I will be cremated and my ashes thrown to the wind.  That way I do not have to lay in a dress on a satin bed and have anyone look down on me.   But I do want to clarify something before I leave.  I have a lot of classy friends. They know which fork to use and when to not cuss and all kinds of things.  And most importantly , I know they love me just like I am and that makes the whole class thing a matter of perception on the part of the beholder.  SWM considers me a unique individual.
"Gonna' take me to St. Louis?"
"Oh, hell no!"  :)

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

November 22, 2002

Very few dates live in memory here in my head, but this one does.  Nine years ago this morning my husband passed away here at home.  I was not aware of this.  I knew he was not doing well and I planned a little visit to the doctor that morning with the little fellow in tow.  He did not like to go there so I was girding myself for that little confrontation.  We have always been early risers, he more so than me. So it was unusual that I was up and he was still in bed.  I knew he had a rough night so I thought I would just let him sleep and I pulled the door shut behind me.  I sent Bret off to school and then decided to get him stirring so we could go to the doctor.  He seemed disoriented and that frightened me, so I called his daughter, Jackie who lives right up the road.  She came and then we called 911.
They arrived in very short order and assessed the situation.  Did he have a DNR?  Yes, but it was with papers that since had been moved and I could not lay my hands on it.  Fatal mistake #1.  If you have a Do Not Resuscitate order, keep it in your hand at all times.  Or at the very least within arms reach.  Do you know what happens if you don't?  The rescue crew will resuscitate you and put you on life support and there you will stay. If you think "putting them on life support " is the end of it, it you are sadly mistaken.
Life support is exactly what it says.  A machine breathes for you and another beats for your heart.  Kenny had a very strong heart so it kept beating without the help of a machine.  The first few days in the ICU he remained in a coma.  When he awoke from that and looked around he began to cry.  He had apparently been in a much happier place and I, through my ineptness had forced him back into this world.  And there he remained.  For three weeks he was in ICU.  Then came the point when he was stabilized enough to "take him off the respirator."  That sounds very simple, doesn't it?  Not so.
When a machine breathes for you for three weeks, your body begins to accept that as normal.  They have hospitals that are skilled at respiratory care and know how to remove a patient from the respirator with great success.  Or so they say.  So off we went to Colorado Springs, to a place called Semper Care.  And there he stayed.  I went every morning and came home evey night.  Bret was in grade school so I tried to maintain some semblance of normality.  Yeah, right.
Kenny never spoke again.  He did know us and his friends came to visit.  His kids were in and out and his mom, sister, brothers, ex-wife, the preacher, whoever would pop in and his eyes would light up in recognition.  Or at least at first they did. 
Man was not meant to be kept alive on machines.  He began to have seizures, brought on by the staph infection, Merza.  That was cleared up.  By then we began to notice that he was not his usual self.  Then it returned.  More seizures and by then it was evident that there was brain damage from the seizures or high fever or something.  What now?
If putting him on life support had been hard, taking him off was even harder.   That is a chore I would not wish on my worst enemy.  For some unknown reason all of his kids were there that morning that the decision was made.  I had kept Bret home from school and brought him to the Springs with me.  I guess we all just knew it was time.  We met with the Chaplain and the arrangements were made.  Then began our long watch.  The oxygen was left on, but the machine was turned off.  After all the time he had been on the machine his body had learned to replicate the breathing.  Towards morning it began to slow and at 5:23 A.M. on January 30, 2003, it stopped. 
The purpose of this post?  What words of wisdom do I have for you today?  Just this.  Get your affairs in order.  Have a DNR?  Put it on the refrigerator where mine is now located.  If God chooses to remove me from this place today, I want to be able to go peacefully.  Kenny would have liked that, but it did not happen.  Losing that man was like losing my will to live, and going on alone is not what I had it mind, but that is what we call life.  So that is what I will do until I hear that trumpet call in my mind and then I am out of here! And you bette wish me God Speed!

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Are you talking really fast? Or am I listening really slow.

Made the mistake of going through the drive through at Wendy's in Pueblo West yesterday.  Have you been through one of those lately?  Damn near a fatal mistake.  First, I do not have the menu committed to memory, so I have to actually look at it.  Well, no, the first thing that has to happen is I have to manuver the car into a position so I can SEE the menu.  That being accomplished I then need to see the words.  Now I wear trifocals so one of the three levels of glass should afford me the ability to actually see the words.  Now seeing the words and awakening my taste buds to that particular item is usually like passing something through congress.  And it helps to have some little chickadee blasting through the speaker "Yareddy?"  "Reddynowhuh?" 
Now there was not another car in sight so I am sure I was not holding up the line.  I finally had to tell her, "Listen honey, I am 70 years old and any meal I eat may be my last so I want to be sure it is something I will remember on my luge ride to the Pearly Gates.  So cool your heels and I will call you when I want you."
Apparently that either ticked her off or appeased her cause she got very quiet.  I finally decided on the value menu hamburger with french fries and no drink.  So I called her back to the mic.
"I would like the hamburger and an order of french fries on the value menu."
"Yawantcheeseonthat?"
"Huh?"
"Yawantcheeseonthatornotcheese?"
"Huh"  This girl was talking way faster than my ears could listen.  "Wait a minute, just let me slow that down."  I put my brain in warp speed and played it back to me. "You want cheese on that or no cheese."
"Ok, I got it.  No I do not want cheese on that.  For future reference had I wanted cheese I would have ordered the Cheeseburger for 40 cents more."
"Whatsizefriessmallmediumlargeorsupersize?"
"Huh?"
"Whatsizefriessmallmediumlargeorsupersize?"  Once more I played the warp speed slow down and play back game.  "What size fries?  Small, medium, large, or supersize?"
"Well honey, which size comes on the value menu for $1.19?"
"Small."
"Ok, I will take the small."
"Whattadrink?"  I immediately translated that and told her, "Nothing."  Not going to guess what I might have ended up with on that one.
" $2.47."  And I took that as a dismissal.  Since no drawer was proffered and no hand came out the window I took that as a signal that I should proceed on the drive way to the next window.  Sure enough a hand popped out, grabbed my money, an pushed a sack towards me, which I grabbed before it hit the ground.
Now this is an open letter to all you little fresh faced little newbies entering the work force.

Dear Who ever you are,

    I am old.  My ears have apparently not kept up with changing times.  They are slow.  When you speak to me you need to leave spaces between your words.  At the end of the sentence there will be a period which indicates a breathe before forging to the next sentence.  Like this..."Hello, Old Lady.  I know you are slow witted and not always sure what you want, but I will give you a little time to decide.  I realize you did not wake up this morning knowing what you would want for lunch at a fast food place and since you are paying and eating it I will let you decide.  And I realize your bladder is only so big and I will not push the super size drink out the window at you."  Or something like that.

   I choose Wendy's over the other places because of the fresh faced little girl and Dave Thomas and his honest appeal.  MacDonalds has a reputation of luring children with thier ads so I never go there.  Burger King is alright, but seems a little pricey and austere.  I actually prefer the Senior Menu at Village Inn, but that involves setting alone and I do not like to do that.

   You need to know that since you are just entering the work force you probably have 50 years ahead of you during which you will no doubt encounter a lot of us old farts, but remember this, some day you are going to look down at the cuff of your shirt and see your mother's hand coming out of the sleeve.  To interpert, this means some day you are going to be old.  When I was young we were taught to respect our elders.  To help them across the street.  And if we encountered one who seemed a little confused we were to be patient with them.  Try it.

    In exchange for that, I will pay my bill promptly and move out of the way for the next customer.  And I will smile at you, because I actually like people and I know the next generation will be the one that slaps me in the nursing home.
   So have a good day and take pity on us old people.

And those are my thoughts for today. Today I will take a sandwich with me. 

Saturday, November 19, 2011

Oh, I been so busy!

Well, if you wonder where I am, try Pueblo West at the Jingle Bell boutique.  And if you wonder what I am selling, try the Arse Lookin at You face and body butter.  Had to run home last night and make a bunch!  And for those of you who do not know, I only have two hands.  So I am giving you a quick update and then into the shower, off to the West and stop and mail out 100 Crown Royal bags to a lady in MN.  Lovely lady named Mary who is going to make a quilt and I hope she sends me a picture.  I am sure she will.  Got the Crown Royal bags from my niece in Oklahoma (Hi Cindy) and they are to sell and raise money for my SCAP clients.  Can not beat a deal like that!

I think the weather is supposed to get nasty, but I hope not.  I plan on going to Lakin, Kansas for Thanksgiving.  Course it will be my usual 8 hours on the road and 2 hours visiting.  Got the geese and animals to take care of, you know.  But it is not the length of the visit, but the quality that counts.  Sam said he might drive up for the day.  We will see. 

Course then Friday is the Parade of Lights.  As I recall every time I go to that I about freeze to death.  I was dating that guy in the high rise that sets right off Union and had I kept that connection I could have watched the parade from the sixth story balcony.  But you know me and how this dating thing goes.  Men require time and when was the last time I sat still and did not fall asleep?  That ticks them off.  Well, sorrrrrrrrrrrry!

So now I am off to do the 8 hours at the Boutique.  I promise I will get back to interesting stuff as soon as this is over.  Sunday is church and then break down the tables, etc. at the VFW.  Then Monday meeting with the Insurance and Century Link.  Then I should have a breather.  So bear with me.  :)

Thursday, November 17, 2011

But are you missing my real calling?

Just a little note here to let some of you know that if you are not checking in on http://www.delilahsdatingdilemma.blogspot.com then you are missing my feeble attempt at a novel.  I do not want to give it away, but I am writing ahead of what you will be reading and I have to work on it in the daylight because I am scaring myself.
You will need to go to the address above and go back to the November 6 post to start at the beginning, unless of course, you like to read magazines as I do.  I start at the back and read to the front.  But on books I start at the front.  All a matter of personal preference, me thinks.
When you read this please keep in mind that it is pure fiction at it's very best  And leave me a comment which you do by clicking on that little envelope at the end of the post.  Give me your real opinion, cause you know I appreciate honesty!
The name of it is Chapter One.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Well, the Arse is now on hold!

This is what is going on in my kitchen this morning.  Absolutely nothing.  See I invented this wonderful face cream with the main ingredient of Hemp Butter.  I mean this stuff is great and I have testimonials if you want to read them. "Lou, this is great!  I wear it under my make up and no grease.  Will be back for more."  That from one of my eBay customers.  Send some to a friend in New York and told him to let his girlfriend try it.  Told him it made my face as soft as a babies butt.  He had the brilliant idea to name it "Arse Lookin' at You!"  Course he loves it and is not sharing with the girlfriend.  says she can just buy her own.
Then he came up with the brilliant idea to put it in black or camoflague tubs and market it to men with the slogan "Every man needs a little Arse!"  I have not gone there yet, nor have I needed too.
So I made a bunch of this and slapped the Arse label on half and Hemp Butter on the other half.  Between the church and the weavers sale I sold every bit of it. So yesterday I got out all my ingredients, the scales, the tubs, and the cooking pan and stick blender.  What I did not get out was the key ingredient, because I am out of that.  Seems I got busy making stuff up for the sales and neglected to order a tub of Hemp Butter.  So I got on my trusty sight and ordered 5 pounds of it.  Checked 3 day ground because the "I forgot to order and need this bad so please rush it to me" method of shipment would have added an extra $126 to the price.  Now even I am smart enough to know that if I want to make money I have to keep my cost low.  So here I set, telling you about it instead of making it.
Now I do have some in the refrigerator, but it is for eating.  It is not refined and has seeds in it.  I put it on toast in the morning with just a little jelly cause it is just like peanut butter only different.
So now I measured everything out so all I have to do is put the Hemp Seed Butter in and finish the job.  I can put all this stuff away and get busy and make something like this:
See I have a little friend coming up from Florida to spend a few days and she has a sweet tooth that will not quit.  I just wanted to let all you people out there who think I am infallible know that such is not the case.  In my defense, however, I worked very hard getting ready for the Church sale and the weavers sale, but this Jingle Bell just snuck right up on me.  Think I have plenty of other stuff, just the Arse is missing.  Should pull it on eBay but I am sure my stuff will get her quickly.  Those people in Utah are nothing if not speedy.
Hopefully tomorrow I am going to have the pictures of the towels my friend Alex sent me from Wales.  Got to frame them because it would be a sin to actually use them!
Until tomorrow then,  
May the good Lord take a liken' to you!

Saturday, November 12, 2011

As promised!

Donna Graham, like the cracker!

Drum roll, please!!!!  This is Donna Graham from Walsenburg, Colorado.  She is standing beside her art work that was actually in a New York Gallery.  Oh, I am hobnobbing with the big girls now!  I am so honored.  She explained to me that these three items are actual things she crocheted, knitted or wove and then saturated with something ( big words and my mind closed up ) and then draped them on somthing else.  See, the best part about art is that you actually have to see it and touch it.  I seen this and touched it and I was impressed.  She may be an artist and hang her work in New York, but she is still a Colorado girl!
And here is a close up of the art work as well as the tattoo she got so long ago that it had to be redone.  Seems like the original one she gave to herself when she was bored in Biology class.  Got to tell you, I have never been that bored!  Never poked myself and never let anyone else come at me with a needle either.  But as far as photography goes, I would say this picture is worth a thousand words.  We have the art work, which is absolutely mesmerizing and then we have the hand in front of it that belongs to the artist and lets us know that she is a real human.  The card from the New York Gallery which shows success.  Full Circle is what I will call it.
This is a little number that Donna knitted but first she spun the yarn.  Oh, I do envy this girl her patience.  Bet she makes Apple Pies also!                                                                                            I think this is a shawl.  I could be wrong.  Would not be the first time.  Let me go check the album captions.  Well, that was not much help because I apparently did  not know when I put the captions on the pictures.  But I will say it is Donna's until some one corrects me!
Now, I recall Donna telling me she lives in WalVeta.  That means it is the same distance from her house to Walsenburg as it is to LaVeta.  I am going to go see her next summer and hike in her mountains. She can carry a shotgun and make sure a bear does not get me!
Donna was also on the board that put this sale together.  They mostly stayed up in the inner sanctum and ran figures through the computers.  Last year they gave me an award for shutting down the computer the most times.  They gave me a pink sheep with holes all over it.  Elvira   thinks it is hers and shakes it.  The stuffing is all gone now.  I do want to commend all the ladies who made this years sale such a success.  And these are in no particular order.  Oh, wait!  They are in alphabetical order!!  Hats off to :

JANET ANZLOVAR ........DEMONSTRATIONS              
JOAN ARCHULETA.........CASHIER TEAM                  
INA BERNARD.................ADVERTISING
MARJORIE BRATZLER...REFRESHMENTS         
LYNNE GNAIZDA............ADVERTISING
DONNA GRAHAM............CASHIER TEAM-INVENTORY & INVITED ITEMS
MARILYN HOISINGTON.STANDARDS & CHECK-IN
BETTY KOCHEVAR.........PROPS & SET UP
TARA MATTHEWS...........SCHEDULING
JUDI PATTERSON.............GUILD PRESIDENT-EX-OFFICIO
TERRI ROSTAD.................GUEST ARTISTS
KAREN SMITH..................STANDARDS AND CHECK IN
COLETTE WRIGHT...........CO-CHAIR & CASHIER TEAM-TREASURER
DONNA GOWER................CHAIR & CASHIER TEAM-HEAD CASHIER
CAROLE SNOW.................SCHEDULING
CAROL SALAS...................STANDARDS & CHECK IN

                       Tomorrow I will post just a slide show of the closing day of the Handwoven Holiday Sale!  Watch for it!

Friday, November 11, 2011

Five Minutes on the soap box.

Well, I know I am in the middle of something with my ladies, but I have got to hop up on my soap box here for just a few.  I know they will not mind this little diversion.
America, what in the hell are you thinking?  Riots over Penn State coach firing!  Is a ball game that important?  Where have I been all my life?  I see acts of cowardice on the news when a 2 year old girl was hit in the street and people walked past and paid no attention.  I think that was in China.  What did the world say?  They said  "Things like that happen in the United States, but not here."  We have become known as a country of callous beings.
Where else are athletes paid millions of dollars to play a season of ball, put them on a pedestal, and then riot in the streets because a 10 year old boy got himself raped and the adults who were supposed to protect him turned blind eyes?  That particular coach was to be excused because he had a winning team!  I am sorry, I just don't get it.  Sandusky is the guilty one here, you say?  Sandusky is not the only one to share in this debacle.  There are laws in place to protect the weak and young and they are there for a reason.  There were a lot of responsible people who turned a blind eye on this one.  This one and how many more just like it?
I am so sick of turning on my television and seeing some one with down cast eyes making their little spiel about "Oh, well, I am so sorry.  I should have done more."  The politicians who lie directly to the camera for weeks and then when confronted with the actual picture of them with thier hand in the cookie jar tell us, "Oh, well, I remember now.  I am so sorry.  I am an honorable man, but there was that one time."  And Lord only knows if all of Tiger's women were ever uncovered.  (Well, we know they were uncovered, but I mean in the sense of publicly discovered.)  I do admire his wife, oh, excuse me, his EX wife. 
I rather live in my own little world and try to just do what I think is right, and people, this is not right.  I look at my world around me and I am so happy that I am old and this is not going to be my fight that much longer.  Man's inhumanity to man is just about more than I can stomach for many more years.  I see the "Occupy " forces over on the corner and I watched the Tea Party blossom, falter and splinter.  I long for the days before technology when we did not see what was happening in virtual time. 
If I indeed do get to come back for another shot at this life, I hope I can come back in the time of the Pony Express and no phones, no television and I can eat fresh cows cream on my cracked wheat in the morning and top it off with a pat of real butter!

Thursday, November 10, 2011

This is Marilyn Hoisington who taught me to weave.

This is Marilyn Hoisington, my teacher and mentor who taught me to weave at the Sangre de Cristo Arts Center up there in the class room. I had wanted to learn to weave since I was knee high to a grasshopper.  I think it went back to the days when momma would tear rags into strips, cut a slit in one end and link them together and have us kids roll the rags into a big ball.  This was then taken to the "rug weaving lady"  who took the balls and in due time returned to mother a rug six or 7 feet long.  That always amazed me.  The cost of the weaving was about $3.00.
While looking through the paper the Arts Center put out periodically I saw that I could take weaving lessons so I was all over that.  I remember how scared I was that first night.  Marilyn was very understanding as to my intimidation by the loom and all the threads. Just did not look like anything I could possibly master.  But under her tutelage I not only learned to weave, I learned how to measure a warp and warp the silly loom.  When classes were over, I bought her floor loom and it and I have become inseparable.
On the left is one of her items for sale.  It is a tapestry wall hanging of some sort.  And on the right is the tapestry work that greets the customers at the front door.  You should know that all the tapestry work she does is designed by her and she has wonderful taste.  I just kind of look at a blank piece of paper and all I see is a piece of paper, but she sees visions and all sort of designs.  And colors and dreams, I think.
Tapestry is not all she does.  She started weaving 30 years ago and the tapestry came to be her medium several years back.  I think in another life her name was Rapunzel and she spun straw into gold.  I have never seen anything come off her loom that was not a work of art.
But look at this one.  She says this is a failure.  Remember when Aunt Grace gave you a baby blanket and you washed it and it shrank up to be the size of a dinner napkin?  We called that "not taking care of something handmade and ruining it."  Now they do it deliberately and they call it "felting" and it is very much to be desired.  So she was trying a new technique called 'bead leno'.  That involves using a bead between the heddles and beater, I think.  She said it did not work so she felted it or something.  I got a little confused, but here is the important part.  When she held it up to the light, a design was inside the scarf.  It could not be seen looking at it on either side, but it could be seen through the scarf. And that is just cooler than anything!

Here is our little Marilyn doing what she does best which is teaching someone how to weave with nothing but a piece of cardboard and some string.  This is called card weaving.  And see the things over on the right side of this page? Those were all made on card looms.  The round ones were made on the paper plates.  Isn't that about as ingenious as you can get?  She embellishes with beads and whatever happens to be laying around.  I think her mind goes 24/7.  The little brown bear you see in the pictures is Star and he has his own little hand woven scarf that Marilyn made on the card loom.  She says when she is away from her loom her hands need something to do and this is quite easy to pick up and requires very little equipment.  So as I left Marilyn today she was busily making another scarf for little Star. Such a good Mama Bear!
 I have decided that there are so many ladies in our Guild that need to be spot lighted that one week is not nearly enough time, so I will be continuing to present more of them to you as I can catch them and beat them into submission.  I will drag them kicking and screaming through the pages of Lou Mercer's Words of Wisdom or know the reason why!
See you tomorrow when I think I am going to corner that wily little Joanne Caldwell.



Another year down the tubes!

Counting today, there are only 5 days left in this year.    Momma nailed it when she said "When you are over the hill you pick up speed...