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Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Thursday, January 28, 5:15 PM So now what do I do?

I have calendars all over the place.  I even have one on my desk top computer that dings to remind me I have something to do.  Usually I have a vague idea anyway, but a little reminder is always nice in case I get a tad bit forgetful.  I know I am supposed to meet up with Kenna this morning.  She will give me a call at some point after her doctor's appointment.  Wednesday is open for the time being, but Thursday is a mystery.  Written on the back of the ONA paper is a notation  "Thursday, January 28, 5:15 PM".   That is all I have written and that meeting was last night.  No name.  No place.  No dress code.  Nada.

I have asked everyone I can think of if they have any idea what that is about and of course there is more blank looks then I can tell you.  They are actually all blank looks.  I look at them with a blank look and they return a blank look.   So, I am appealing to anyone who reads this to call me immediately if I am meeting you on Thursday.

Oh, crap!  I remember seeing an advertisement that shows an appointment like that only it said "Fred's heart attack will happen tomorrow at 3:15."  Wonder if that is my wake up call and I wonder if I better go get some of that medicine?

I have a dentist appointment someday, but that is not it.  Doctor is once a year and always the first one of the day.  I do not usually go anywhere after 4:00 cause I have chores to do.  All I can say is "Damn it all to hell!!"

I had a lady friend tell me the other day that she thought she needed a keeper.  I told her I could be her keeper and that would be like the blind leading the blind.  Maybe I need a keeper or at least some sort of an overseer.

So here is the deal...If you are reading this and plan on seeing me at 5:15 on Thursday, call me so I know where I am going.  Ask your friends also.  If we all put our heads together maybe we can come up with something.  In the meantime, I shall go look at that piece of paper some more.  I may take a nap!  Oh, maybe I will bake a pie.  Or cookies!  Oh, look...a butterfly.

Monday, January 18, 2016

Hand washing dishes may be an art!

I like to fill the sink with dirty dishes and then run it full of warm/hot water and put in a squirt of Ivory .  I can then plunge my hands into that and look out my back window at my domain while I wash the dishes, rinse them and put them in the drainer.  But my mind is never still and this morning it flashed back to Plevna and I heard Mrs. Crawford explaining the fine art of washing dishes correctly.

"Be sure that all the dishes are scraped and piled before you begin.  You will pile them in the order they are to be washed.  Glassware first, then silver, then plates, followed by the cooking utensils.  Each item will be rinsed in your tub of very hot water."

"Some times a bit of food will be stubborn and not come off when you whisk it with your dish cloth.  Do not, I repeat, DO NOT attempt to remove it with your finger nail.  Your hands are in the water and the nail is soft and you do not want to do damage to the nail. There is a wire scratcher that comes in handy for removal of stubborn things that do not want to be removed.  You will want to keep your hands lovely and soft for your husband, so when you are finished with the dishes and the sink is clean and dry, apply a little lotion and rub in in well."

Do I need to interject here that I failed Home Economics under the able tuteledge of Mrs. Crawford?  Now when I say failed I do not mean C or D but a big Red F.

I can still see her in my minds eye standing in the home economics room in her skirt and jacket with every hair in place pointing to the sink and the dish drainer as if they were the most important items on earth.  I actually grew up believing that man was superior and I must do all I could to please one of these creatures if I ever was lucky enough to catch one.  I had a helluva lot to learn back in those days!

At the end of the semester my grandma passed away and I was returned to Nickerson and enrolled in Home Economics where Miss Irvin was my teacher.  Here I attempted to learn how to make a simple dress.  As I recall mother bought me the required pattern in the size I needed and cotton fabric that was white with small blue flowers.  And thus that exercise I futility began.  We measured each other to get the proper measurements.  And then it was time to cut the pattern and pin the darts for the chest area.  Well, until I was 16 years old, I never had a sign of a boob, so darts were pretty well wasted on me, but nonetheless, there would be darts because as sure as there was a God in heaven, I would develop before that dress wore out!  Not sure that happened though.

After 4 1/2 months of cutting, ripping, stitching, and crying, the dress was finished.  The darts in the chest were perfect, but there was nothing there to hold them out for the world to see.  My sewing career was finished and Miss Irvin gave me a final grade.  Seems I had been a very difficult student.  I had not listened and I was disrespectful with all that crying.  You guessed it.  A big RED F.

Now, after a full year of schooling on how to cook, clean and sew for my man, I walked away empty handed!  My life was over as far as my mother was concerned.  I would never catch a man.  Even grandma kept telling me things like "Where spider webs grow, no beau ever goes."  The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."  And more crap like that. 

So I finished high school and began life in the real world.  My first marriage lasted 10 years and produced 5 kids.  After a string of husbands I finally found one that understood all I needed was stability.  I do not think my cleaning and cooking skills were ever on any of the divorce papers. 

What is the most amazing part of this whole thing is that I am now an excellent seamstress.  I have a sewing room to die for and am the proud owner of 5 sergers,  5 sewing machines, a machine quilter and a 6 needle embroidery machine, all of which make me money. 

I raised my kids on money I made as a short order cook, a dinner cook, a caterer, and personal orders as needed.  I baked and  decorated wedding cakes while I was at the Red Carpet.

Sorry, Mrs. Crawford and Miss Irvin!  I know you tried, but I am just one of those people that have to learn the hard way.

Isn't it amazing how I can get off track?  Guess I was not meant to be a writer.  Oh, wait a minute!  I am a writer!!


Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Damned old age!

So when bedtime comes around here I start turning out lights and then head into the bathroom to hop into my jammies.  Elvira always manages to get in before I close the door. Elvira is the little furry cream colored one.  She waits patiently while I change clothes and then we go into the bedroom.  Icarus gets her treat up on the dresser.  She gets 5 pieces cause they are small.



Then I give Daisy her milk bone and then Elvira.  This is the order of the pack.  There always has to be an alpha and that is me, whether they like it or not.  Then comes Daisy because she was the first dog.  Elvira is the baby, but she may be the oldest.  But the pecking order remains the same.  It never varies.  At no time am I ever left alone.  When I am on the computer I have a cat on my lap and a dog at my feet.  If I nap in my recliner I have a cat on one side, a dog on the other and the other dog is under my foot rest.  When I go to close the geese up at night, I am accompanied my my trio.  Some times Elvira is tired and waits in the house.  Are you getting the picture?  My animals love me and I in turn, love them.


Of course there are times I need to go do errands and they can not go.  At those times they set in a row and watch me go out the door.  They know I will be back and I know they will be there.  And homecoming is always the same.  They are so happy to see me that I feel guilty for leaving them.  Daisy is the most insecure as she is always first to greet me and there are not enough pets to calm her.

As I was driving in to town yesterday, I was thinking about my menagerie.  And then I was jolted to reality by the memory of a stray dog on South Road.  I thought how many people get dogs and tie them outside.  I pictured myself as a dog in that postition.  

I could see my humans inside the warm house.  I could see them eating and drinking and laughing, and I could see myself alone.  Alone and cold.  No warm food for me.  No one to hold me close.  The ground is cold and my water is frozen.  Maybe they forgot about me.  I barked to remind them I was there and the man just opened the door and threw something at me.  All I wanted was a little attention.  Why did they bring me here?  If they did not want me to be part of the family, why didn't they just leave me at the pound?  At least there I had hope.  Here I have nothing.  There is nothing I can do.  I have an old rug, but no house.  I can not even run away because I have a chain holding me to a tree.

Of course I had to  set there and bawl about it, but what can I do?  I am not sure that it was even about dogs.  It rather parallels life, doesn't it?  Once I was young and vital and active, but now I am slowing down, much like the old dog in the yard.  But whatever it is , I do hope if you are reading this and you have a dog and he is tied outside that you will bring him inside.  It is cold and why do you want an animal if you aren't going to love it and keep it warm.? Take it back to the pound.  Of course it will no doubt end up being euthanized, but at least that is quicker than the slow painful reality of living on the end of a chain.

Don't know why I am on this trip tonight.  I suppose we all go through this when we get older and lose someone.  It makes us face out own mortality and I face mine in the guise of a dog.  So guess I will go to bed.  Tomorrow is another day.

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...