loumercerwordsofwisdom.blogspot.com

Monday, December 31, 2012

The year in review.

Here we are at the end of the year again.  I have been here 71  times and it never ceases to amaze me how many people are off and running to the party.  Not me.  I can not stay awake that long.  I will put on a big pot of black eyed peas so I can eat them tomorrow because that will bring me good luck.  Or so I hear and the way my luck runs, I do not want to take any chances!  Actually, my life is pretty good.  Few bumps here and there, but nothing insurmountable. 
January started out with a bang.   My dear friend Sherman was told his cancer had become active and invaded  his spine.  This would set my course for the rest of the year, if not the rest of my life.  His friend, Libby, who was his office manager when he had his business in Denver, came to act as his liaison with the medical community.  She and I became very close friends over the next few months and remain so today.
His very good friend, Mark, came from St. Louis and stayed for 3 weeks while he was in radiation.  Mark and I became good friends and like Libby, it remains so.
I lost him on July 13, which just happened to be Friday the 13th.  I think he might have done that on purpose.  He just had that kind of sense of humor about him.
I met his family and keep in touch with them.  I plan on going to St. Louis this next year.  I have never been there.  Bret has.  The Babylock company is there so that is where he attends classes.  Maybe I will take the train.  That is my plan.  Stop in Hutch.  Stop in St. Louis.  Finish in Dallas, and then reverse the whole thing.  Sounds like a dream come true.  I will probably sleep all the way through the trip.
I "self" published my novel Chapter One...Loose Ends and was able to place a copy in Sherman's hands before he passed away.  That was a shining moment for both of us.  And while I have not sold nearly enough copies to pay the publishing costs, it has been very gratifying.  I am working on a story line now that he and his brother requested.  It is purely fantasy and is what "could have been."  That can be read here.  Some of the descriptions will be real and the basic story line covers some of our time together and how we met.  I think it will be fun.
I did remain active in SCAP through the year and we had luncheon every second Tuesday of the month and several cookouts in the park.  Attended the movies once.  Played miniature golf.  You know, just fun stuff to escape the harsh realities of life.  World AIDS Day was observed at the Hoag Library on December 1.  Great turnout.
We had the Weavers Sale at the Vail Hotel, the craft show at church and the Jingle Bell boutique.  All those were in November.  I made enough money from those to pay the house insurance and part of the taxes.  I missed my vacation this year. 
I sold some stuff and managed to come up with almost enough money to rip out my carpet and put in wood laminate floors on the main level.  I am busy now trying to empty those three rooms and paint.  You got to remember that I have ceilings that are 14 feet high (at least on one end) so painting is a major undertaking.  Old women and ladders are not conducive to anything good happening so I am looking for children who love me, or a windfall to pay a painter!  Neither one has happened yet.  My only hope, Dan, is busy moving his mother and brother up from Arkansas, so I am open to any suggestion that does not entail doing it myself!
As I reflect back on the past year, I think it was a good one.  The part about Sherman was very sad, but for the most part it was a good year.  I made lots of friends through Sherman and we had some good times.  While I miss him I am keeping busy and carrying on just like I had good sense.  And as for the painting thing...I started this blog early today and about 2  my friend Lyn showed up and now everything is painted except the tall wall, and that is coming tomorrow evening when I have her and her husband to supper.  Life indeed is good!
Happy New Year to you and yours!!

 

Thursday, December 27, 2012

Today fur shall fly!

Hey, I got me a helper coming this morning.  I am so excited.  I got 2 bookcases full of books up into my bedroom.  Got the little desk Sherman gave me up there, also.  One corner empty, one old lady worn out.  Took the day off yesterday and just chilled.  Well, took the kids to lunch, met a fellow at the library to help him with his computer, came home and emptied, or nearly emptied, the top of the china cabinet.  Then I took a bunch of pictures for eBay and then wove about 8 inches on my towels.  They are going to be absolutely beautiful.
Last night the phone rang and who do you think was on the other end?  Grandson Mikey!  Mom said grandma needed some help and he was just hanging out so he could sure come and give me a hand if I wanted him to!  So I got to get out of the pj's a little early today.  Oh, yeah, and the guy is coming for my furnace inspection so today is going to be pretty busy. 
I picked a color to paint and I think it is going to be alright.  Bedroom is purple, bathroom is pink, office is aqua, and the main level will be something called desert straw, unless I go with the chenille.  Either way, all the stuff has to come off the walls.  Seems like a never ending job here.  Really makes me long for the good old days back in Nickerson, when mother was in charge!
I do want to tell you about my Christmas's there.  Seems like the first one in that house was when Jake broke it to me that there was no such animal as "you know who" (in case some one is reading this to a little kid!).  Seems that was the first year that mom and dad let him have the job of bringing in the stuff and putting it on top of the pieces of paper with our names on them.  We needed our socks, man!  Could not be hanging those up for some fat guy to shove stuff in and stretching them out of shape.  Many years later I did have a stocking, but it was no big deal by that time.
I heard him sneaking back to his little bed in the middle of the night and asked where he had been.  So he told me.  And it seemed that he had proof.  I was getting a tin doll house that held tiny people and tiny furniture.  That was hard to believe because that seemed like something a rich kid would have gotten  I learned later why.  Seemed my dear Aunt Helen Lang had taken pity on us that year and wanted to make our Christmas special.  She sure did!  Aunt Helen would pop in from time to time in our lives and when she went away there was always wonderful stuff left behind.  Once she enrolled me in Brownie, which is the really beginning of Girl Scouts.  Even bought me a Brownie uniform.  I was so cool!  I had a little brown beanie for my head.  Do they still have Brownie's?  I need to research that. 
The next Christmas that I remember I did not fare nearly as well.  Seems there was a book of children's poems, a red rubber ball and an orange, oh, and that godawful candy that was dry powdered sugar and something and then dipped in chocolate or something that was meant to be chocolate.  The candy I liked was the ribbon candy that tasted like licorice.  It seemed that we always made the trip to Grandma Haas's in Plevna every Christmas.  It was a very long ways.  I think 23 miles.  And it seemed the car always over heated.
Any way we always had a Christmas tree.  The reason we had one was because at school every room had a Christmas tree and when school was over for the year, the tree went home with some one poor who needed it and with at least 4 kids in school there, one of us was bound to luck out.  And here we would go down the road with our poor little tree with a few strands of tinsel clinging to the branches as if we were the proudest people in the town. 
I would like to interject here, that I do not regret growing up in poverty.  At that time we were not the only poor people at the school.  Everyone was poor.  It was right after the depression and the war had just ended.  We did what we could and we all hung together.  That is how things were done in those days.  The best we could hope for was that the rich girls would get new clothes so we could have their old ones.  Jake fared the worst because boys wore their clothes until they fell to pieces so he never got any new "old" clothes.
I have yet to have a Christmas when I do not remember back to Nickerson.  Seems we always go back to our roots and no matter how far away I roam,  I am still "from Nickerson." There is probably no one living in Nickerson today that remembers those Bartholomew kids. I probably would not know them, because I am still remembering the people who were there when I was.
My poor little jumbled mind is ready for bed, so "Goodnight, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are!"

Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannaka, and HO! HO! HO!

Just want to throw the seasons greetings out to all my readers who ever and where ever you are!  I will be spending this evening in my church.  Tomorrow will be very informal as I am having lunch at the nursing home with a lady friend and her father .  After I will stop and visit Penny and Cathy, then the Mercer family and then home to pack belonging and move them out to the garage.  I want to be ready to start painting my main level by about Thursday.  Then rip out carpet and wait for the floor installers to come after the first week in January.  This has been a long time coming and I am excited.

So to all my friends out there in the real world, I send you the best of the best for this holiday season and the upcoming New Year that we all hope will bring peace and posterity! 

 
************************************************************************
Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's entirety. Lou Mercer


From the back cover
Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Sunday, December 23, 2012

December 23, 1983

Thirty years ago Kenneth was putting a drive line in a tandem dump truck.  Gene Baugh was helping him.  The temperature was -15 degrees.  They went to Pueblo Brake and Clutch to pick up the repaired drive line and the place was closed.  What to do now?  We had discussed marriage for the past year, so he sent Gene home and turned to me and said, "Well, let's get this shittin' mess over with!"
Now what girl could resist a proposal like that?  While he jumped in the shower, I donned my wedding apparel.  I dug out my new jeans, a gingham shirt with flowers on the yoke, my white cowboy(girl) boots and we were off to Canon City.  Buying the license took about 3 minutes and then we were given a list of ministers who would do the deed.  We chose one in the assisted living facility just up the street.  We could not meet with him until 4  o'clock so we went to the doughnut shop  and had our wedding supper.  He had a plain raised doughnut and I chose a chocolate covered one.  Coffee was our beverage of choice!
We arrived promptly at the 3rd floor suite at 4 P.M.  The minister signed the license and pronounced us man and wife, then went in search of witnesses.  His wife was bedridden so we stuck our heads around the corner and she smiled at us.  That was one.  He stepped into the hall, waved someone down and we never laid eyes on number 2.  Kenneth paid the man and we came home.  At home we found a cheap bottle of wine in the center of the table.  Seems Gene knew our plans.  We did not open the wine for over six months and then only to get rid of it.  That took three or 4 tries!  But thanks any way, Gene!
Now thirty years later, I can still remember the temperature on that day!  It is going to get up to 51 today.  That is alright.  Kenny has been gone almost ten years, but I do not think his memory has faded at all.  I still hear him.  I still see him.  His ashes are still beside my bed.  While everything has changed, it has still stayed the same.

Happy 30th Anniversary
Kenneth and Louella Mercer!

 

Friday, December 21, 2012

Well now what?

Just got up and started checking eBay for ending listings.  Got those taken care of and got my second cup of coffee.  Just setting here planning my day at 5:30 AM and realized that today is the day the world ends.  Damn!  I wonder what time that is going to happen?  I want to shower, but I am not going to get naked and have the world suddenly end and there I stand in front of God and everybody dripping wet in a birthday suit that sorely needs ironed!  And say I do that real quick and make it back out.  What about breakfast?  That is the most important meal of the day, you know.  Can I be expected to go flying across the universe on an empty stomach?  Will there be signs pointing us in the right direction?
In all seriousness, some one posted a picture of a Mayan Calendar and an Oreo cookie on facebook the other day.  I thought there was an amazing resemblance except that the Oreo cookie was chocolate!  Oh, just thought of something else!  If the world has ended, wouldn't my Internet be down?  Oh, and I just had an email from Google that says if I want some one to be notified that I used their name in my blog I should put a mark before their name.  I digress but let me just try that here. +Stephen Smalley .  Now, dear cousin, let me know if that worked!
Back to this end of the world thing.  I did not bother getting ready for this one just like I never bothered the other umpteen times.  I hold firm to the Bible and the part where it says "No man shall know the day nor the hour....".  Oh, and trust me on this, there are a whole lot of other parts that I hold fast, also.  So now that the world seems secure for just a little longer, I will get back to planning my day.
I am gathering up a box full of soap that I made and I am going to take that and a bunch of lotion and body butters out to Los Pabros, the migrant center east of town.  I want the women out there to have something nice for Christmas.  I am not going to wrap it, but rather just have Sister pass it out with the food stuffs.  I was visiting with her the other day and they are sorely in need of men's clothes, so when you are cleaning and tossing any time, think of them.  I know it is easy to drop them off at the ARC or the Goodwill and those are very worthy causes, but so is Los Pabros.  If you will give me a call, I will be most happy to pick items up and deliver them out there.  The things we take for granted are luxuries at the center.  And needs are not limited to men.  There are lots of women and lots of kids of all ages. 
If you ever feel moved to do something, just leave me a comment at the end of my post and a way to get in touch with you.  Or visit my profile and I think my contact info is in that.  For now, I am off to brighten my little corner of the world while it is still here!
******************************************************************
www.shop.loumercer3.com
 

Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Happy Birthday, Sonny!

Today you turn 21!
 
I know you think that this is the pinnacle, but you are so wrong.  Now you can drink legally.  You are the age of majority.  21!  Off to Cripple Creek?  Have fun.  I would like to say my work here is done, but that is not the case.
I have yet to be "done" raising any of them.  You were just the last one.  Now it is up to you to go out into the world and make a mark that will tell the world that your momma did a good job.  Tell them that you hold the same values today that I instilled in you for the last 21 years.  True I was not your mother all those years, but I was always there.  Just around the corner and a phone call away.
I was there when you grew pot in your room.  There when you skipped school.  There when you made the merit roll, and when you didn't.
And now you are living out on your own, paying your own way,  with your own girlfriend, your own dogs and whatever else, but try to remember that momma is still here.
 
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MR. BRET A. MERCER!!!

 
 

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Off and running!

Going to be a rather fun day today.  First I am meeting my friend Jeanne at Starbucks for coffee.  Been neglecting some of my friends and that has to stop.  Then it is off to church and after that coffee with Dan in all probability.  Got to run by Office Max and pick up some labels and packing supplies.  Then home to figure out just how to pack this spinning wheel to mail through UPS.  Do not want it damaged.  Course I have yet to figure out how to get it in the car!

  Oh, and some where in that I need to stop by Lowe's and check the price on my floors.  Would be much easier if Staples had not ticked me off cause it is right by Lowe's, but they did.  Guess Deven is not going to church with me this morning.  That is alright because I long ago learned to travel on my own.

And let's see, I need to talk to the kids and see what the plan is for Christmas.  And I am going to plot my little vacation next summer.  Surely someone wants to see me!  Anyway, this is just a note to let you know that tomorrow or Tuesday I should be back to the good old days. 

See you then.
 
************************************************************************
Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's entirety. Lou Mercer
               
                                                           

From the back cover
Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.
This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rocky Mountains

Saturday, December 15, 2012

Once more life has gotten in the way.

Bet you been missing me.  I sure been missing life!  I went and got my drivers license renewed and guess what!  I do not have to wear glasses when I drive anymore.  Had that vision restriction on there since I was 22 , quit smoking 3 years ago, and now my eyes are back to normal.  I still need reading glasses, but hell I am 71 years old!  What did you think?  They told me what the cigarettes would do to my lungs, but never mentioned my eyesight.  Little added benefit there.
Had lunch with Libby in the Springs last Tuesday.  We went to the Fine Art Center at the College.  That was really great.  Don't ask me where the rest of the week went.  Some where I am sure.  Oh, I had a delivery to the garage for the yard sale.  And it was cold so extra work trying to break the ice.  And that little side trip to look at flooring took another day.  But now that was worth it.  I think I am going to go with Pergo in the Montgomery Apple.  Course this also entails painting the first level.  So now I am looking for a painter who will do this for nothing and do a good job.  We will see how that works out for me.
And then there was that nasty business in Connecticut yesterday.  I rather long for the old days when we heard the news through the grapevine and it was a month old.  Man's inhumanity to man never ceases to amaze me.  But little children?  Do you remember when that one guy killed all those Amish girls?  I thought that was about as low as one could go, but seems like every one that happens is lower and more base than the last one.  Like these guys just have to out do the one before.   It is sad that life has come to this, and I have no advice on how to stop it.  Sure we can regulate firearms, but that only affects the people who obey the law in the first place.  I have no answers.
So I will close up my geese and just do the best I can to try and control my little corner of the world and make it a better place for someone.  Going to work on my next novel a little tonight.  Always nice to escape from reality into a dream world.
Going to try to get back to Nickerson soon.  Kind of miss the good old days.

www.shop.loumercer3.com

Saturday, December 8, 2012

Let me fill you in on my shenanigans then tomorrow it is back to Strong Street, Nickerson, Kansas

Icarus, the calico cat that seems to run the place here, just walked across  my modem, knocked my coffee cup on the floor and settled herself on top of the HP tower.  She is thinking about swatting that blinking light and if she does that she is going to hit the power button and I will be on hold for a while.  Let's hope that does not happen.  Just so you know I am keeping busy, I took the grand daughter and her beau to the Friday night Art Walk on Union. 
We first went to the library to see the Pueblo AIDS Memorial Quilt display.  We arrived simultaneously with the fire engine and the ambulance.  I do not know where the emergency was and no one inside seemed too alarmed.  We checked with the lady at the desk and she told us we were on our own for the art walk.  She suggested that we start over at the Cup and Cork, but since I knew what the "Cork" was and these kids are 15 or 16 years old, we skipped that part.  We were advised to just walk across the bridge and on up Union.  I opted to drive down there and leave the car in a central location and walk both ways.
Just wanted to see what that was about.  First it was cold.  We saw one group of carolers twice.  This very quickly lost all luster to the three of us.  We decided we were hungry and I wanted a greasy hamburger that would slam my aorta shut and get me out of my misery.  Where to go? 
I remembered Carl Jr's or Carl's Jr, or something like that and their advertisements that showed all kinds of stuff squirting out when the guy took a bite.  I figured some of that had to be grease, so off we went.  Bad choice.  I got a Bacon Cheeseburger, French fries, and a soda.  That was the driest thing I ever bit into.  Totally it consisted of a bun, hamburger patty, a piece of cheese, 2 pieces of tissue paper thin bacon that clung together for safety, two dried out onion rings that actually had at one time held an onion ring, and a stain on the bun that I later identified as barbeque sauce.  I squirted a couple packages of ketchup on it and did finally get it to drip.  Gross.  Even the French fries were not greasy.  The Dr. Pepper was pretty good.  Total cost for the three of us was $21 and some change.  I still have a fully functioning aorta, so if anyone knows where to get a greasy hamburger, please let me know.
Ah, I see Icarus has now gone over and settled herself in her box on top of the filing cabinet.  I see we are supposed to maybe by some miracle, get a little snow tonight.  Not thinking that is going to happen, but it is winter and it should.  I am going down and whip out a couple seed catchers a lady ordered and then I think I will work on my warp for the loom.  I will probably leave the computer asleep tomorrow since it is a busy day, but I fully intend to dredge up some memories about Nickerson, Kansas on Monday or Tuesday.  See you then.
 
************************************************************************
  This is the novel I have for sale. Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's entirety. Just click that little BUY NOW button.     Lou Mercer


From the back cover
Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Sorry, I got side tracked!

Well, right in the middle of the mess came World AIDS Day and now that is over and for some ungodly reason known to no one in the whole world, I decided that the garage has got to be emptied.  See, my dear husband passed to his heavenly reward 10 years ago and left all his tools, truck parts, peg board, wood working equipment, nails, grease and dust behind.  Now in all fairness, I did sell what ever anyone was interested in at the time, or gave it away.  That was long ago.
Now PFLAG is storing stuff in my garage for the scholarship yard sale in the spring.  Bear in mind that this garage is large enough to park a semi with a long dump trailer attached and still have room for 4 full sized cars.  Getting the picture?  So a friend of mine moved from Vineland to Pueblo West and needed temporary storage.  The a son-in-law came dragging in a great big bunch of racks.  And lord only knows who stuck that pool table in the corner!  Are you getting the picture?  Forgot to tell you that this thing also has a loft!
So they been hauling stuff in and putting it in the garage and the center is now full!  And it is creeping towards oblivion. Along the south wall are steel shelves 3 deep and about 2' x6'.  On the said shelves were broken chains. lug nuts, valuable stuff and total crappola all mixed together.  Since my back has gone south long ago, I got my friend Dan over here and pointed and he carried.  I began to find stuff that I knew was good, but I had no use for it so I called my friends, Frank and Cliff.  These guys have been my friends forever and when I need something they are always there to help.  I knew they were still out and kicking because I had lunch with them last spring.  We had all started Colorado Dirt many years ago and they are frustrated "pickers".  And here they came in their car.  We checked the garage and the next day they returned with a truck and trailer.  Yesterday the returned with a truck, trailer and a bobcat!  Today will be the third day of actual loading and I can see bare floors popping out everywhere!  This is wonderful. 
Today they are on their own because I have to take the dog to the groomer and I just happened to notice that my drivers license expired 3 months ago, so I will be setting in that little room with the hoards waiting my turn.  The dog takes about 3 hours so this should all work out well.  At least it would in a perfect world.  Then it is off to lunch with my friend Linda at SCAP.  Then home to see if I can install Microsoft Office on this computer from Hell!!  And I have satin sashes to finish sewing for the rodeo club.  And listings are running out on ebay so I need to take care of that!  And I want to get a warp measured out for a set of towels.  Wish there was two of me.
In the meantime, I am neglecting the story on the Chapter One Blog and the desk is piling up again.  Good news though!  I did get the cookie bags ready for the SCAP clients and Sherman left me a new pair of jeans and I have those marked and ready to hem.  And did I tell you I have the old computer set up down stairs and the printer is working and God is Good!

Sunday, December 2, 2012

I know I showed you this, but...

I just want to point out some things of interest.  Like see that thing in the lower left hand corner?  Do you know what that is?  That is a sewing kit that sets on the cabinet or some where that it will be handy.  The whole thing is wooden and usually hand made.  The bird has a pair of scissors that makes up his head feathers and the blades are his beak.  Under the beak is various colored spools of thread.  In the center is a pincushion and in the pin cushion will be a needle.  I can walk in anyone's house now days and tell them I need to sew a button back on and I will be met with blank stares.  Needles and thread are just not the common items they were 50 or 60 years ago.
The couch they are setting on is a dark blue sort of plush fabric.  It is called an overstuffed divan.  The pattern etched in the fabric would have been some sort of leaf design or flower.  The walls are papered it is matched!  It is very neutral, because bold statements were not made in those days.  The pillows are of course, hand sewn, probably either by hand or on an old treadle.  I just don't remember the sewing machine at grandma's , but I am sure there was one there.
But the crème de la crème can be seen on the back of the couch between mother and grandma Haas.  See those white round things?  Those are crocheted sets that go on the back and arms of anything you set on.  These particular ones are made by first crocheting the round things.  They are made up of probably 85,000 tiny crochet stitches and probably in a size 20 thread.  Back in those days these were considered necessary.  If they were not on there the couch was "naked."  And trust me, it would have been more acceptable for me to cavort naked in the street as for that couch to not be finished with it's crocheted trimmings.  And the matching overstuffed chair would have a set that matched.  Heaven forbid that it looked any different.
And any table that was in any room would have a doily on it.  The center of the dining room table, a very large,heavy, round oak table had a big pineapple doily as the centerpiece.  It was about 2 feet across and the pineapple ruffles stood about a foot high.  When this was "soiled" it was washed and then "finished" by soaking it in a very heavy sugar water and then placed on a towel to dry.  The ruffles were pulled to full height as it dried and when it went back on the table it was perfect and looked like it had been ironed.
So that is it for this picture.  Oh, one more thing.  See how they are dressed?  Dresses, aprons, hose, shoes, the whole nine yards.  When those women came out of the bedroom this is how they looked.  They were dressed "for the day" and that was that.  You might catch me in my jammies at about any hour before 10, but not them.  I do not think I ever saw grandma in her night gown any time except when I put he in it at night and took it off in the morning.
So much for the grandma's for today.

(I know there are some of you out there who read this blog as a means of keeping up with family history.  You should know that I have my blog converted into a pdf. file  regularly and if you would like I can send it to you as an attachment.  I have not done it for this year, but just let me know if you want one and I will make sure you get it when it is ready.)









 

Thursday, November 29, 2012

And we "settle in".

The next morning arrived, as mornings have a way of doing.  John Britan and Ed Crissman came by early to get the cook stove unloaded and the pipe put through the hole in the ceiling.  It was heavy work, but accomplished very quickly.  I am sure mother hustled around and built a fire so coffee could be made.  This was done with a large enamel coffee pot, water, grounds and an egg shell.  Egg shell was to make the grounds settle better.  I do not remember what our first meal in the new house was, but I am willing to bet it was some sort of "mush."  Mush was made by boiling water and stirring some sort of cornmeal into it.  I think today it might be called "grits".  I have since perfected this recipe.  Mine is called "Scrapple." 
First I boil some kind of pork or beef until it is very tender.  I season it with a bay leaf, some sage, maybe salt and pepper or chicken broth.  Then I fish out the meat, add coarsely ground yellow corn meal (grits or polenta) and cook that until it is done.  Then I stir the meat in and pour the stuff into a loaf pan that is lined with wax paper.  When this cools it will set up and be firm.  Then I take it out of the pan and slice it about 3/4 inches thick and fry it in hot oil.  Serve that with Maple Syrup and  you have some happy people on the other end of the forks.  Hard to believe that recipe came from the heart of the depression years.  We just didn't put meat in it back then.
So with the cook stove cooking away, the next item in was the "heating stove" or parlor stove or what ever.  Since the linoleum in the front room was still in very good shape, we did not need to replace it.  The first thing to go down was the 4' x  4' square of asbestos that was clad in tin.  Usually the tin was painted so it was pretty.  The purpose of this was to keep the stove separated from the linoleum cause the stove would get very warm.
 ( A little aside here!  The Environmental Protection Agency and every one else in government would have us shut down today.  Asbestos is now hazardous waste and I am sure that linoleum under it was a case of lung cancer waiting to happen.  But in those days all this was considered luxury. )
The stove needed to set about 2-3 feet from any wall, so our metal mat was placed accordingly.  Then the stove was carried in and placed exactly in the center with the door facing into the center of the room.  Do not ask me why, but that was how it was.  Step ladder was brought back in and the pipe installed connecting the stove to the hole in the roof.  Always amazed me how that worked out every time, but apparently there was some sort of plan.  There was no chimney, just poke it out the hole and we are good to go.  The wood box in the kitchen was located just inside the door.  The one for the front room was just outside the door.  Hey!  Do you think we were hicks? 
Then everything left on the hay rack and the trailer was carried in and taken to the room where it belonged.  The zinc tubs were put in the kitchen, because that was where the washing machine would go and that was where we would have our weekly bath.  In case you missed the blog on the bath, I will tell it again later.  The three legged cast iron kettle that was the mainstay of life was placed out back near the pump. 
I have  got to extol the three legged kettle.  It was about 3 feet high and 3 feet across.  The sole purpose was to heat water over an open fire, hence the legs that held it up out of the ashes.  See, it set there and a fire was built under it and buckets of water were carried from the pump and poured in it.  About anything could happen in that kettle!  Mother raised geese, ducks, chickens and rabbits.  When it was butchering time for the geese, ducks and chickens the water was heated in there.  Off came a head and in went the body.  Geese and ducks had to have a little soap added so the water would penetrate.  Then the feathers were plucked off and the "down" saved.  Down is the light feathers under the wings and inside of the legs.  It is used in Down Comforters, pillows and stuff like that.
The kettle was also used to heat water for washing clothes, washing kids on Saturday night, rendering pork fat into lard, dipping the pig during butchering and lord only knows what else the inside of that kettle seen! I do remember many years later when we moved to the big city of Hutchinson, mother left that kettle.  Her words then were, "I am so happy I will never have to heat water in that thing again."  We also left the stoves, but that was many years later. 
Father strung new wire on the clothes lines.  We never hung curtains, because we didn't have them.  Someday we would, but not now.  And since we mostly used a kerosene lamp, we usually went to bed early. Back in those days, most people functioned with the sunlight, so who was going to see us anyway?
Want to tell you just one more thing for today.  The ice box was just that.  It was a big brown box that was insulated with, you guessed it...asbestos.  The ice man drove by the house with his ice wagon once a week.  We had a card that went in the front window.  The number that was up was how much ice we needed.  Usually 25 pounds was what we got.  When he saw the 25 on top, he would stop and get his ice tongs and pick up a 25 pound block and carry it into the house, open the ice box and set it inside.  The money was always left laying there and he would pick it up and leave.
Bet you wondered how he got in without a key, didn't you?  Every house in town had a door with a lock and the lock could be opened with a skeleton key.  I mean every house could be opened with the same key.  If you lost your key, you went to the hardware store and bought another.  Doors were rarely locked.  I do not think we even had a key.  Back in those days there was a whole different breed of people.  We still had "vigilantes" and if some one did something the town did not approve of, there was talk of "tar and feather and ride him out of town on a rail."  Never knew it to actually happen, but heard it a lot.  If you were out and needed a drink of water, just go in someone's house and get it.  Of course there were the codes of honesty, common courtesy, decency and all kind of things the new world does not understand.
Guess maybe that is why it is called "the good old days."

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Landowners at last.

We arrived at the "new" house in grand style.  Our first act as new tenants was to check out the place.  It consisted of 4 rooms and a kitchen area across the back.  Enter the front door of 709 Strong Street in Nickerson, Kansas.  Nothing was to be brought in until the room was "repapered".  This was always the first thing that happened when you took possession back then.  Wall paper has always fascinated me.  You first measure the room and figure out how many square feet of paper you need.  This leads to another conundrum.
You figure how many square feet of paper it will take to cover all four walls of the room.  It matters whether or not it needs to "match" but only when you go to buy it. For the record it usually does need matched, so there you are.  Ceilings were about 10 or 12 feet up there in those days.  This is something I never understood.  No one ever grew to 6 feet in those days, so why the ceiling needed to be so high was more than I could fathom.  These rooms were about 12 x 12.  So 12 x 12 x 4= 576 square feet.  Wall paper is sold by the single roll, but is packaged in one big roll that is called a double roll.  So say a single roll contains 36 square feet then a double roll would contain 72 square feet.  So this job would need 16 single rolls, or 8 double rolls.  Now you have to add a roll or two extra for "in case ofs", and there are a lot of those. 
See this is what happens, you lay a bunch of newspaper, or old towels or sheets or something on the floor.  You then measure you very first strip of wall paper.  It will need to be cut a few inches longer than the wall height, in case you measure wrong.  Then you take the roll and the next strip will be "matched" to the first strip, and make it just a little longer in case you are off a little.  You will do this for the first wall.  So there they lay face up.  One person on each end and flip the whole pile so it is now backside up.  Now the fun begins!  And I really to love to hang wallpaper.  Well, I used to. Little old for that crap now.
The step ladder is brought in and placed in the first corner.  The paste is mixed and the paste brush laid out.  The decision is made that Father will climb the ladder because he is the only one that can be trusted that high up in the air.  The paste is applied to the back of the first strip being sure to "get the edges good."  This is a job for Mother.  The strip is then folded and readied for transport up the ladder.  The top of the strip is folded to the middle paste sides together and then folded back up so the very top edge is free.  The bottom is folded accordion style with the paste sides together leaving a strip that is now about 7 feet long.  Father slides his left arm under the middle of the strip and catches the top free edge and up the ladder he goes.  The first piece is hung in the corner, and then they realize that the room is not "plumb" so an adjustment is made while a string is hung from the ceiling.  The first strip is crucial because if it is not straight, the whole room is "off".
Father pats the first strip overlapping the top where it meets the ceiling.  This is folded down straight and cut so it butts nicely against the ceiling.  While he is doing that Mother is "matching" and us kids are patting and smoothing.  The brush is then brought into play and the strip is smoothed and all bubbles worked out and then Mother cuts the bottom straight with the mop board.  We admire our "new wallpaper" and then in a frenzy we attack the job of "finishing what we started."  With all of us working it is done in just a few hours.  Many hands make light work!
The moving and the papering took most of the day, so we did not completely unload the belongings that night.  We did bring in the beds.  Two for the front bedroom and one for the middle bedroom.  One bed in front for Father and Jake and one for Josephine, Donna, Mary and me.  Mother had the other bedroom with Dorothy.  Sometimes Mary slept in there also since she was "almost" a baby.  Sometimes Mary slept with Father.  And mostly Jake slept on the floor behind the stove.  Sleeping was just something that had to be done in a prone position.  Nothing special about that chore. 
Now I am sure sometimes Mother and Father were at least more than casual acquaintance's, but I was never privy to that!  (Just want to clear that up.)
So ended the first day at the Bartholomew residence on Strong Street.  We would live there many years and make many memories, but tonight we were tired and the front room was papered and we were in our own beds.    So as I lay in my bed I began to worry about what we would have for breakfast since there was no stove to cook on and no pans were inside the house.  While far away in another place kids were dreaming of sugar plums and stuff like that I was dreaming about survival.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Ring! Ring! Oh hell! Sorry about that.

Mother worked at that time cleaning houses for people in town.  Mrs. Hawk, the dentist's wife, Mrs. Massey, and I forget who else.  Our means of communication was a black telephone that was in a wooden box that hung on the wall.  To call some one you needed to pickup up the ear piece and then turn the crank on the side.  This would ring in the telephone office down town and the "operator" would put a plug, the other end of which was attached to her head piece, into the circuit which was lit up and say,  "Number please."  The person calling would then say the number which was usually two digits.  Later it changed to three.  The operator would then plug the wire that came from your number into the number you were calling.  And thus a call was connected and would ring and some one would answer.  I know all this because we took a tour of the phone company.  You could call it a tour if you want, but that place was so small that we could only get in two or three at a time.  The operator set on a little stool and could connect the whole town without having to move.
At that time there were "party lines."  A party line meant something way different then than it does now.  Take our phone.  We were on a party line with the Rumble' s and several other people.  Only rich people could afford private lines and we were far from rich.  The way the calls were handled was this, each person on the party line had their own distinct ring.  Ours was two longs and a short, Rumble's was one long and two shorts, and so forth.  We knew when someone got a call cause it rang in all the houses on that party line.  These means of communication were rather primitive, but they did work and they called for a certain etiquette.  If we wanted to place a call, we picked up the receiver and first listened.  If some one was talking, the line was in use, so we should hang up and try later.  If the line was free and we wanted to call some one on our party line, we simply turned the crank and rang their ring.  Like Rumble's.  We rang one long and two shorts and Mr. Rumble would answer.
Or if you are little kids home alone and bored you could pick up the phone and "listen in" which was not only rude, but illegal.  So one day we were rather at loose ends and the phone beckoned to us.  Now I say "us", but I am pretty sure it was Jake and me.  Donna may have been involved.  So we kept picking the phone up and some one was talking to some one else.  We may have tittered and they heard us.  This made it more exciting.  We were eavesdropping and they did not know who we were (or so we thought at the time.) or where we lived.  Then we discovered that if we turned the crank the phone made a very loud noise in their ear.  They were getting very upset and made threats about turning us in to the phone company.  We knew there was no way the phone company could track us down.  After a while they got tired of our shenanigans and just hung up.  So we moved on to more exciting things like wallowing in a mud hole.
And then mother came home.  So and so up the road had stopped her and told her about what her babies had been up to while she was at work and Josephine was laying around some where reading.  We, of course, pointed at the younger kids.  They did it, not us.  They were just playing and we were doing our chores and knew nothing about that.  Those kids were just trying to get us in trouble.  Mother had not forgotten when we hid behind the tree and threw rocks at every car that went by and we had tried to blame them innocent babies for that too.  I began at that time in my life to think that mother was clairvoyant and I resented those little kids because they were always trying, and succeeding, to get us into trouble.  Had we had the mindset, we might have murdered them and hid their bodies in Bull Creek, but we were just a couple ornery kids trying to find our way in the world with very little actual guidance.  Back then kids just kind of raised themselves and fathers were mainly "head of the family" by sheer virtue of having been born men.
And so I close the door on the Ailmore Place and lock it against intruders.  There are things I can see that when I went back years later were not there.  The long walk to town was maybe four blocks.  The big bridge over Bull Creek is actually a culvert.  The big beautiful home of Roy Keating, the pig farmer was just a little house with a couple of sheds out back and a couple pig stys.  The Rumble's house had collapsed and where had they gone?
I think not long after the big storm, Doc Ailmore died, so we were on the move again.  I remember that my dad had horses and a hay rack and a hay wagon.   These were pulled by a team of horses.  I was too young at the time to realize that the tractor was an up and coming thing and horses were on their way out.  All of our belongings were loaded on these two conveyances with the kids thrown on last and the horses pulled us through the edge of town to the other edge and to our new home. This one my father would buy.  We had not seen the house until we pulled in front of it and began to unload our precious belongings. 
I had way more important things to worry about because I was in school and I had to learn my ABC's and numbers and lots of other really important stuff.

Friday, November 23, 2012

Still on the Ailmore place.

Just read the last post I made before I wandered off to do my craft shows.  We were on the Ailmore place and had just had our cyclone.  I have a few more memories I need to share there and then I will move on. 
I mentioned Bull Creek being right by our house.  I am going to try to figure out my directions here.  Sorry, I got confused, but if you want to look just click here and you can figure it out.  Just know that the Arkansas river runs on one side of Nickerson, Cow Creek figures in there some where on the other side and Bull Creek is a little furrow you can step across most of the time and has no water in it at all.  But it is, or was at the time, a whole different story in the Spring.  I think it is still the same because I used to make several trips down there every year and some times I like to take 96 Highway just for a change of scenery.  Starting about in Rice County the sheriffs and volunteers would be out to make sure that when cars crossed the flooded parts of the road there were no casualties.  Just one of the hazards of the area.
I recall once leaving our house and walking to check on the Shultz family, which was about 3 blocks away, and wading water all the way.  As quickly as the floods came, they receded and we were left with puddles of water in all the low places.  So we built little boats and sailed them in the puddles.  As I recall, our house was set up off the ground so the water did not get inside.  Most of the houses there were that way.  I do not recall having a pet at the time, but I sure there was an old mangy dog around some where.
Back somewhere in the far recesses of my mind I can recall my father "pulling a prank" on friend of his or at least on his wife.  Her name was Salina.  I think she was married to John Britan, the guy my dad share cropped with for many years.  All I remember is waking up and hearing them laughing and John saying "Just look at the egg my chicken laid!  I am going to take it to the newspaper."  Then they laughed some more.  "Damn, Rueben, where did you get that turkey egg?"  I do not know if anyone ever told Salina Britan that her chicken did not lay that egg, but it was a source of amusement at gatherings for a very long time as it quickly circulated through the town, and I am remembering it over 60 years later.
There are a lot of things I remember on the Ailmore place.  Some one up the road had a car and took the children to school.  They would stop at the end of our drive and let us ride with them if we were out, but if not, then we walked to school.  There was a young man about Jake's age that sometimes hung out at the house, but he preferred to hang with us girls.  Mother, Dad and Josephine would run him off the place.  I did not understand then, but now I think I do.  I thought they were just being mean because he was my "friend", but looking back, that was pretty strange.
The man right across Bull Creek on the way to town raised pigs.  Right now his name escapes me    ( Roy Keating) but some times dad would go do chores when the man left for a few days.  We always went and gathered the eggs.  That was really nice because he had a special little shed built for the eggs to be taken into, cleaned and put in crates.  Our hen house had blown away and our chickens just laid where ever they felt like laying.  Oh, but there is nothing more terrifying than reaching under one of those hens to get the egg.  I lived in mortal terror that I would be pecked.  Still afraid to do it now, so I just don't have chickens.
Jake always wanted to be a mechanic.  I recall once he wanted me to blow in the gas tank while he looked under the hood.  Then he had the bright idea to syphon the gas out of the tank and coerced Donna into sucking on the hose to get it started.  She had no idea what she was doing so she got a big mouth full of gas.  Lordy, mother liked to beat that Jake to death!  And we had to make Donna throw up and maybe there was another trip to the medical place in Hutch.
Lots of gaps in my memory back then, but remember I was very young.  Life back in those days was straight out of a John Stienbeck novel; poverty in it's purest form.  But everyone was in the same boat, the war was just over, and better days lay ahead.  I know cause we heard the adults say so and adults knew every thing!  But we were about to move again.  I had been born on one place, moved to another and was on my way to a third.  I was 7 years old and the world lay before me like an open oyster, and sorry to say, smelled about the same...a little fishy!

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

From Vista to Windows 8 and so to the nut house!

Oh, I am way to old for the leap I made today.  I went Sunday, as you read, and came home with a new computer.  I finally decided to pull it out and hook it up when the other one completely refused to get online today.  So first I made a carrot cake and then to the business.  Have you seen Windows 8?  That is the one that opens with all the apps on little cards and you just take your finger and throw the one you want to the forefront and the rest disappear.  And when you are done with that one you throw it out and pick another one.  Not me.
I decided to go the mouse route as opposed to buying a new monitor for $300.  So I kept jacking with it and missing my AOL and I do hate that Bing.  I like Google and IE.  After many hours, a sugar free Pecan Pie and lots of coffee I am setting here writing you on my blog which I just found and added to my AOL toolbar which I also found and installed much to MSN's chagrin.  I feel like a genius!
So that is it for this little update.  I look forward to being back in my little rut after Thanksgiving since the craft fairs are over. 
Right now I have to go down and hook up the old computer and find the notepad and get all the addresses that I have in there so I can find all the places I used to go to.  Going to be a long night!

Monday, November 19, 2012

Customer Service could be the key to our salvation!

After much wringing of my hands and holding of my head and balancing of the sorry little checkbook, I decided that a new computer is a definite must.  Since I needed ink anyway and I was in Pueblo West instead of at church I decided to stop at Staples.  I always go there when I need anything since I get a 2% discount when I use the American Express card and they usually seem pretty friendly.  So I whipped the little gray Ford into a parking place and went inside. 
I saw the counter where they work on computers and fix them and thought I would stop there first.
The man was busy with a young lady so I went over and got my ink.  Since he was still busy, I went to take a look at what they had in the line of computers.  Not much on the one end and since the clerk was busy visiting with another clerk and a customer(?) I had to walk around another counter and come in from the back side.  No problem since I can still walk.  Not much on that end either and no one in sight to ask without interrupting, which I do not like to do.  So back to the repair counter where that clerk was still talking with the young woman.
Since I was meeting someone for lunch I thought I better just pay for the ink and go.  No one at the service desk.  No bell to ring that I could see.  I stood there for 2 or 3 minutes and finally decided that I must be invisible since I had been in the store at this time over 10 minutes and had neither made eye contact with any one, nor been acknowledged in any way.  Rather then just walk out with the ink I left it lay on the counter.  Bet they think they have ghosts there.
After lunch I called my step daughter who had recommended Best Buy.  Yes she would meet me there.  Since I was closer I got there much quicker.  Immediately a clerk was by my side.  In very short order I had gathered the things I wanted.  Well, not really what I wanted since I am still on Windows Vista and that is now obsolete and Windows 7 soon will be.  I got an HP tower with Windows 8 and a new monitor and a mouse.  Oh, and the tri-pack of ink that matches the one I left at Staples.  No step daughter yet, but I am a big girl.  I managed to buy almost $500 worth of stuff and put the points on her account.  Unfortuneately, I am now getting her email and I do not know why, but I suspect.
Business all done and he loaded all this on a low cart, thanked me and pointed to the door.  I am sorry, but at that moment I could have cried.  I really expected to be helped to the car.  Or at least asked if I would like help.  So I dropped my purse on the cart and started that way.  In a computer store there are lots of obstacles, but I made it to the door.  Getting across a rough place in the concrete and keeping my load from jumping off the cart took about all this 71 year old broad could do to accomplish.  In all fairness a couple clerks looked at me as I rearranged the load so as not to lose the monitor on the ashphalt.  As I reached my car, my step daughter pulled up.  She helped me put it in the car.  Very happy about that since my back has been crippling me for 3 months and is just now getting so I am not in constant pain.
I explained to her that this was not right.  An old woman should have been offered a little assistance and not just sent out the door with $500 worth of stuff and hope she could make it to the car without being mugged or dropping the whole thing.  She was in agreement with me on that.
I brought my stuff home and she called to tell me that she had discussed this with the manager and he had said. " It is Corporate policy that the clerk not go to the car with the customer unless they are ASKED by the customer to do so. "  She told them they might want to rethink that one.  I am not a person that ASKS for help.  Never did it; never will.  I go to the grocery and they ask me if I would like help out to my car.  When I went to Staples a trip or so back and bought a printer, they loaded it for me.  Every where I go I get offers for assistance, but not at Best Buy.
So the crux here is this...businesses are suffering because people are not buying.  What a surprise!  I go to the store and finding a clerk is usually an effort in futility.  I gather my whatever I want and go to the counter and maybe someone is there to ring me up.  A couple weeks ago I had made an appointment to see someone.  On the day of the said appointment I received a call that they could not keep the appointment.  What am I to do?  Well make an appointment for next week.  I am busy next week.  Well, you have to make one then.  No I don't.  Here let me just hang up and call someone who will see me this week.  And I did.
I rarely if ever shop at Safeway any more.  Know why?  I stand in the checkout line and wait.  I wait while the clerks visit with each other and whoever will listen to them talk about the grandkids or the Bronco's, or what ever.  The last time I went there and managed to drop over $80 and never made eye contact with the clerk, was the last time.  King Soopers has a new policy; you do not have to wait in line and they will open another register if you do.  In and out and they actually make eye contact and say a few kind words.  And that, my friend, is called Customer Service.
It amazes me that they call us old people crabby, bitchy and whatever else comes to mind, but you know what?  After 70 years of living on this big green ball, I have decided that I am going to be treated with a miniscule amount of respect or I will take my little pile of money some where else to someone who will treat me with kindness.  I can not help that I got old, what I can help is what businesses I will support.  At this point in my life if I have to ASK you to help me, you may just find yourself standing at your counter with a tri-pack of ink, or a basket full of groceries.  I have decided to set the computer up because I seriously entertained the idea of returning it and telling them why.  Instead I will not return to Best Buy for anything.
As a matter of fact, when I buy something online, I immediately get a receipt and a thank you letter.  It is a form letter, but there it is.  Then in just a few days, whatever I ordered is delivered to my house and the UPS man or mailman or whoever brought it smiles and asks me how it is going.  Then I get another letter that asks if everything was satisfactory.  More of that stuff called Customer Service.  Brick and mortar stores could learn from the faceless business men and women online.





 

Saturday, November 17, 2012

If you wonder where I went...

First was the Church Bazaar at First Congregational United Church of Christ.  That tied in nicely with the Handwoven Holiday at the Vail Hotel, and now I am out in Pueblo West for 4 days at the Jingle Bell Boutique.  And while all that is going on, I am selling like crazy on eBay.  Christmas season is upon us you know.  Sunday will wind up the craft sales and I will be left with just the eBay stuff, but I am making good use of my time.  House taxes and insurance along with the car insurance will pretty well wipe out my meager savings.  That and the fact that my list that I buy for went out the window when it reached 45 recipients explains my poverty.
I decided many years back to just give the kids soap and lotion and maybe a little something personal.  So usually when Santa pulls out of town, my cupboards are bare.  Had a granddaughter call the other day and say she wanted to come for a visit.  Sorry, dear girl, but I am tied up and can not get loose.  I do hate to do that, but I can only be in one place at a time.  Next week is Thanksgiving and then the Weavers Guild meeting and in the meantime I need to get ready for World AIDS Day.  And all the time eBay marches onward.
I do enjoy doing the Jingle Bell Boutique.  I see people I missed at the Vail and others, I just never get the chance to see.  I did not realize that the Jingle Bell has been going on for 37 years right there in Pueblo West.  It has been held in various locations over the years, but it is unique in that each person has thier own specialty.  Like I do the Soap and Lotion.  Helen does the crochet and knit.  Sue does canned fruits, jellies and such.  Mary Jo does breads, toffee and peanut brittle.  Booths, Beech's and Mary Petersen are wood workers.  Marjorie used to do the baskets, but she retired.  Rikki does quilling.  And we have a couple new ones this year, but I forget thier names.  I get to sell my books cause they never had an author before.  Last night they all went to the Hen House for supper, but I could not go cause I have the geese waiting at home, you know.  And the dogs and the neurotic cat.
So just be patient and I will be back into my routine here very soonly.  And I  will have a full report on World AIDS Day happenings here pretty soon.  And, yes Amy, I will get you cookies sent before Christmas.
398485_Give the gift of cookies and save 10% from Mrs. Fields. Use discount code: MFCG. Offer ends 12/31/12

 
Free Shipping on All Orders of Ink and Toner at officemax.com

Monday, November 12, 2012

Cyclone, Tornado and Bull Frog!

For some ungodly reason, I woke up at 3:33 this morning and after laying there I decided to get up and face the world.  What I had on my little pea brain at that time of morning was thinking about my childhood.  After we left the "Stroh" place we moved to a place called the "Ailmore" place, again on the edge of town.  I remember it a little better since I was a little older.  It was a wood frame house with 4 rooms; kitchen complete with a wood stove and a sink that drained into a bucket, a front/dining/family room, a bedroom with 4 beds like a bunk house, and a back porch.  We did have electricity, I think.  Our water source was about 15 feet out the back door.  Jake and I were in charge of keeping the stock tank pumped full of water for the horses and the milk cow and water brought into the house for drinking, cooking, cleaning  and what ever else  was needed.
Josephine was in charge of us, as usual.  Her job was to clean the house and make sure we did not get into trouble.  One day mother had left us money to go to the movie.  I think it cost 7 cents each.  Only Jake and I could go.  So off we went.  I had on my good dress.  In those days a wardrobe consisted of a dress and a good dress.  Good dress was for town and church.  We never wore shoes in the summer.  We were bought a pair of shoes before school started and we better hope those stayed the right size until the ground thawed out in the spring.  Of course we handed our clothes and shoes down to the next kid, but remember I was a girl and Jake was my "hander down".  I digress.
So off we went.  Between the house and town was a bridge that spanned Bull Creek.  Cow Creek was farther from town and much bigger, but Bull Creek fed into it.  Bull Creek carried just enough water to make seining for Crawdads a lucrative chore.  We would take the big wash boiler which was used to heat water for the laundry and a seine and catch a bunch of crawdads.  If we were real lucky we would catch big ones.  We pulled thier tails off and boiled them.  Then we would remove the shell and eat the meat.
  (It was shaped and tasted much like a teeny, tiny, little bitty lobster, I think.  But today was movie day!  I must add here that since those days I have tasted crawdad and it was not nearly as good as back in those days when daily fare usually consisted of potatoes, corn, beans and that sort of thing served up with a loaf of bread that cost less than a nickle at the store.) 
As luck would have it we were almost over the bridge when Jake spotted a big Bull Frog.  Nothing would do but to catch that bull frog.  Down the bank we scrambled and after that frog!  He was fast, but we were faster!  We had visions of froglegs soup for supper!  Mother would be so proud!  At last Jake stood in front of me with the biggest bullfrog in the world clutched in his two hands.  Now what?  He was covered with mud.  I had not fared much better myself.  A plan emerged.  He would go down the creek a ways where the water was not so muddy and I would carry the bullfrog in my skirt back to the house and have Josephine put it in something.  Then I could put on my old dress and come back and we would go on to town.  Ah, the best laid plans of mice and men some times go awry.  And such was the case with the bullfrog in the skirt.
As I approched the door, Josephine ripped it open with her eyes very, very wide and her mouth drawn up in a tiny, tiny, very tight scowl.  "What have you done?"  Ah, but my pride of what I carried could not be contained as I stepped in the door and opened my skirt.  "Look what we can have for supper! " And you already know what happened next, don't you!  Mr Bullfrog saw his opportunity for freedom and leapt from my confines. Josephine screamed and ran around in terror ordering me to catch that monster and get it to hell out of the house.  Ah, that I could, but he was very good at escaping.  Even better than on the creek bank.  Under the bed, and as soon as I got there, he was out and under the dresser.  By this time Josephine had found the broom and was urging me onward.  What followed has probably scarred me for life,  but to make a long story short, eventually the frog was caught and set free outside.  I think the cat finally killed him.  Jake got tired of waiting and returned to the house just as the frog was launched out the front door.  He spoke not a word.
Josephine confiscated our money and the movie trip was cancelled.  My dress was removed and I was scoured clean in the stock tank with the cow and horses looking on in bewilderment.  Life returned to normal.
Across the road lived two sisters.  Well, we thought they were old maids, but they probably were not that old.  We used to hide in thier forest and watch them set in their back yard and drink tea.  Wasn't that exciting?  On up the road lived Mr. and Mrs. Rumble.  Mr. Rumble always wanted me to sing Buttons and Bows and told me that when I learned all the verses he would give me a nice shiny dime.  Then he would hold it up for me to see.  I dreamed of that dime all the time we lived in that house.  I could not learn the words because I could only hear part of the song sometimes and isn't like now when I can type it in the browser and there are the words.  I remember him.
There was a family friend named Ed Chrisman.  He and dad share cropped for many years.  This one particular time I recall, dad had gone off drinking in Hutch.  Mom was home and Ed Chrisman came by to see him.  A storm was expected and he did not want to leave a woman with a bunch of kids there alone and no one knew when dad would return.  So we closed all the windows and waited.  Jake and I went to the pump house to fill the tank before the storm, so we were out there when it hit.  We felt the shed begin to shake so we turned and ran as fast as we could into the house where mother waited with the door open. 
I still remember that wind and how scared we were.  And when it was over and we went outside it was like a war zone.  The haystack that had been so neatly piled for the winter was every where.  The only building left standing was the house.  The barn was gone.  The hen house gone and the chickens wandering around like little lost souls in the yard.  The tool shed was in shambles and the old milk cow lay dead in the field.  The horses had escaped and were Lord only knows where.  Later dad would come home and go "round them up."  We learned later that it had been a cyclone.  I think a cyclone and a tornado are basically the same thing, but I am not sure.  There was a lot of controversy over the proper term at that time.  I just couldn't see what difference it made, the results were the same.  I guess it is just like when you are in total shock, you reason things out and put all the facts in their own little places and then you can make sense of the situation.
I started school on the Ailmore place.  First grade and Miss Donough.  She later married Mr. Breece.   The circus came to town and I had a free ticket.  When I went to the circus and presented my ticket, the man told me I had to pay 5 cents.  I was devastated.  Mr. Breece stepped up and gave the man a nickle.  I was so happy and every day after school I stopped by his house to see if I could do some chores to pay him back.  He always said no and finally I stopped asking, but I never forgot.  I often wonder if I have ever done anything as I wandered through this life to make some little kid remember me.
 Funny the things that stick in your mind as a kid.


 

Saturday, November 10, 2012

The upper room at the Vail sale!! (poetry)



This is the slide show for the work that goes on at the sale that no one sees, but everyone appreciates because that is where our paychecks come from. 
I have very carefully put the caption under these and I hope they are still there.  Let me know if they are not and I will spend hours and hours correcting that little chore.
Today the sale is ending and we are picking our stuff up at 5:30.  If anyone can help Susan on Sunday with the loading out, she would be most grateful.  I am churching, then PFLAGing and then they will be done.  If I get a minute I will zip by and see if I can help.

Friday, November 9, 2012

Janet Anslovar and her many talents



See the lady in the center?  That is Janet Anslovar, a very nice lady.  She has been with the guild like forever (which means longer than me!)  Seems that every thing she touches turns to a work of art.  In the center she is giving a weaving demonstration on the Baby Wolf loom that is owned by the guild.  I was her little helper and we had a very good time.  Would have had a better time if I could have stayed setting and left the cookies alone!
Janet has won many awards for her dolls and other works of sheer genius that flow from her fingers.  Today I am going in and buy one of the dolls.  My favorite was a fellow she had a couple years ago named "Harley"  and just try to guess what he was setting on!
The sale is going to end this Saturday at 3:00 PM so if you have not been there yet you better get to hopping.
This little guy came in yesterday from Colorado Springs PAWS which trains animals to be service animals.  Cool huh?  I forget his name.

Just never know what you might happen upon when you get a bunch of weavers together!
 

Tuesday, November 6, 2012

At the Vail Hotel with the Handweavers Holiday Sale


I just want to show you that weaving is not the only thing that goes on sale at the Handwoven Holiday Sale at the Historic Vail Hotel.  This is a gourd decorated by our own little Marianne Cardinal.
 
And here is another one by her.  You have got to stop in and check these out as my pictures do not do justice to her work.  I took a gourd class from her several years back and she really knows her stuff.  And she is an accomplished and prolific weaver.  Not only that but she is just the sweetest little lady I have ever known.  I just love her to pieces.


I do not know who made these felted soaps, but they are just cuter than cute!  One of them has his tongue hanging out and one has vampire teeth!  The sale runs through Saturday November .  10-6.  Saturday until 3. 










 






This next one is made out to wire and it looks to me like I could get my finger poked if I am  not real careful.  But it is absolutely beautiful.  She did tell someone that it was actually made on her Baby Wolf loom. Going to find out tomorrow who did the soap and the wire weaving. 

Right now I am getting just pretty sleepy, so I think I will be off to bed with me!  I see the good people on the television are counting votes and want to tell me who is going to be president, but I am just too sleepy to care right now.  So if something really wild happens in the middle of the night, I am going to be pretty surprised in the morning.  So off I toodle.  You all have a good evening and I will check in tomorrow with something pretty for you to look at and I would be really happy to see some of you pop in tomorrow.

Sleep tight!

For the record...both of the above items were made by Sandy Wells. Congrats, Sandy.  That is some beautiful work!!!

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Saturday at the Vail Hotel.



Well this was the scene at the Vail Hotel Saturday when I stopped in after the sale at the church.  Busy bunch of people and some beautiful pieces.  I am working tomorrow, so I will have more pictures then.
Enjoy!

 

Lou Mercer Words of Wisdom: First Congregational Church Annual Craft Bazaar.

Lou Mercer Words of Wisdom: First Congregational Church Annual Craft Bazaar.

First Congregational Church Annual Craft Bazaar.




Well yesterday was the day and off I toodled to the annual Craft and Bake Sale.   And a good time was had by all as you can see in the slide show.  I saw lots of old friends  and made a few new ones.  I sold several copies of my book.  Made a date to meet a couple guys at the library Tuesday evening.  And I made some money.  That is always the high light of my day!
Oh, and I sold a couple purses.  I ate biscuits and gravy, and nachoes, and a big baked potato.  Drank 2 cups of cappachino and one Coke.
I finished up the craft sale by modeling the vintage apron that I had just finished a few days before.  I think I will sell it on eBay cause that is what I like to do.
After the sale I loaded up the car and drove over to the Anita Goodesign show that Sprinkles was putting on over at the Prysbeterian Church on University Circle.  Amanda was working there and Bret was over on Eagleridge running the shop, so I did not get to see him. 
Then I stopped by the Vail to see how the girls were doing at the Handweavers Guild sale.  But more on that later today because I have to work there from 2-6. 
I finally drifted home and the dogs were very happy to see me.  I shut up the geese, set the clocks back an hour, ate a bowl of cereal, answered a few emails and then off to bed with me!  Slept the sleep of the innocents and woke up this morning at 3:10.  I hate time changes and it is probably a very good thing that I live alone!
So now I am off to bigger and better things.  Will try to report in tonight with a slide show from the Vail Hotel.  For now it is off to chores, shower and then to church in that order.
 

Thursday, November 1, 2012

What a lovely day I had and got a lot accomplished!

Dan showed up bright and early to load the car!  It is drop off day for the annual Handweavers Guild of Pueblo sale at the Vail Hotel.  First weekend of November every year, just like clockwork.  Drop off day is always a hoot.  Being the competitive person that I am I always have to be first in line.  Dan had my 208 items inside when the key hit the door.  Dayle MacCormack was the lucky check in lady who got me.  We were both absolutely amazed that not only were my 5 big boxes labeled correctly, but they were in a semblance of order.
The guild always amazes me at how well organized they are.  It took them 3 years to convince me that the inventory and the codes and the items numbers all had a relevancy.  The first year I sat on the floor with Terri Rostad and wrote my initials, item #, code #, and price on 200 items on a little tag 1" x 3/4".  But not this year!  Hooray!  I printed the sticky labels up on tiny labels on my computer and stuck them to the little tags.  Well, I had one tiny glitch and that was the computer refused to print the item # so I left that blank and did it by hand.  Thank you ladies for your patience and I will see you on Friday which is opening day, when I bring in my cookies.
You people have got to check this sale out.  November 2- November 10, 10 AM -6:00 PM at the Vail Hotel.  I work Sunday, Monday and Thursday. 

And then it was off to Beulah and the Stompin' Grounds to visit my friend Jan.  It was Halloween so she was dressed up like robin Hood.  I thought she was a brownie, then I thought she was Peter Pan, then I thought she must be a Pixie, but she told me she was Robin Hood, so I know that is right!  We had a lovely visit.  I have not been up there for a while so that made it even better.  I met a guy there named Russ and sold him one of my books.  He and Dan had a nice visit and I think Dan may rent a house he has over near his home for his mother.  His mother and brother are moving here after the first of the year from Fayetville, Arkansas.  That will be nice.  His mom is named Nancy and she is a lovely woman.  I think the brother is just named Brother.  I am looking forward to meeting him.
After I had what I like to call a "Cappachino Blaster" we took our leave of Jan after promising that I would bring soap, lotion and body butter to sell in her area for Christmas.  I told her I would be back next week.  Hope that works.
Dan is quite the hiker and back packs a lot so I took him to the Rocky Mountain Park just up the road a ways and he located several trail heads.  Now a little interjection here...I do not do this.  As I understand he takes his little back pack and walks off into the wilderness and usually spends the night.  I saw no signs of running water, heat, memory foam mattress, bathroom facilities and sure no stove to cook my daily meals on.  What I did see was a poster telling about the wild animals in the forest and what to do if I encounter one.  No, no, no.  Not for me.  So little Dan, with his dreams of a trip into the forest giving a happy glint to his eyes and me, sorely in need of a nap, started back down the mountain and home.


Upon arrival I decided to whip up a bunch  of cream puffs.  See, Dan wants to start his catering business and he is fascinated with my kitchen, so it is sort of a match made in heaven.  Ater we ate our fill of cream puffs with French Silk filling, all made in my kitchen, Dan departed.
I spent a little time downstairs sewing and then it was off to the Chiropractor for an appointment at 6:30.  Dr. Walters jerked, poked, massaged and manipulated my poor bones until I think she finally cracked a rib.  I made it home at 8:15 and the geese were anxious to go into thier house.  I was in bed by 9 and this is the first night I have slept all night since the back went south back in August.  What a relief that was. 
So, now it is the next day and I am full of piss and vinegar, I tell you.  I am off to Canon City for a meeting, then stop by Sprinkles to see how they are doing for the Anita Goodesign show they are having at a church on the south side Friday and Saturday.  So you have a good day and try to stay out of trouble.

 
************************************************************************
This is the novel I have for sale. You can buy it by simple clicking the Buy Now button.  This will take you to an invoice.   Do not be confused by the title. Chapter One simply means this is my first book. There may never be another, or there may be many more. I am very proud of this endeavor and guarantee you will enjoy the book in it's enirety. Lou Mercer


From the back cover
Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

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...