Rethinking that flight!

Lou Mercer Words of Wisdom: Welcome to Texas little Colorado girl!

 I hit the send button on that post last night and went to bed.  My mind immediately told me, that I was not going to sleep and it was right, but then it always is, isn't it?  Momma told me more than once that everything happens for a reason and we all know momma was always right.  Momma was always right.  So this morning I will reveiw with a clear head .

Was that flight deliberately detained to make me suffer or was it perhaps detained to change the course of my day to make me just late enough to avoid a car wreck or something else that was in my future that only God could know?  Something bad, or to give me something good?  Or was it even about me?  

God has his own way of reaching down and touching people and places that need touched and I like to think that He spends way more time taking care of me than I take thanking him for doing it!  And you know what, it may not have been about me at all!

Maybe the man setting beside me needed to hear something I said.  Or maybe the lady two rows back who was so helpful in charging my phone on the bank of chargers needed to help someone that day.  Maybe she was missing her mother.  Or someone on that flight, or someone waiting for that flight to land needed to be detained to avoid a situation.  Or maybe the man across the aisle who could not set still needed a lesson in patience.

I do know this was harder on my son and my friend Ross, then it was on me.  My mother had a caveat that she spat out fairly regularly and that was this "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."  And I have come to know that when something goes wrong it immediately (if not sooner) snowballs into an avalanche, much like the lemmings walking off the cliff!

So, in the cold hard light of day, I have this go say..I had a wonderful trip down to Dallas, and had a wonderful time seeing the sights and my friends (They are actually Sam and Allen's friends, but they accept me.)  I made a (hopefully) new friend on my 12 hours on the plane.  There were restroom facilities, and I did not suffer a bit.  I wanted to get home earlier, but that did not happen.  So be it!

Thank you, Sam and Ross, for being so caring and considerate in the drop off's and pick-ups so I did not even have to worry about anything!  

And thank you God for always being around close enough to catch me if I fall!

Is there still love even at my age?

 When I first met Earl Duane Seeger 68 years ago, I knew immediately what love was.  One look in those sky blue eyes, a toss of that sunshine blonde hair and the muscles rippling in his arms and I was in a tailspin.  He was fresh out of the service and looking for love!  He had a job and a car and lived with 2 of his brothers.  A short 3 weeks later we were standing in front of the minister in the Presbyterian Church on Sherman Street  in Hutchinson, Kansas.  His mother had come in from Jetmore, Kansas and a blizzard sent her and Walter back before the service began.  October 30, 1960.  One or 2 of my sisters were there.  I can still close my eyes and remember my first love.

They say you never forget your first love and I believe that to be the gospel truth.  I know he loved me till the day he died and I still hold a very special place for him.  The marriage lasted 10 years and produced 5 beautiful, healthy children!  We shared custody and no one paid child support.  Some times the kids were with me and some times with him.  Even when I married husband #3 and moved to Colorado, the kids traveled back and forth.  Child support was never an issue.  Early on when the kids were with me full time he made the statement "Why should I pay you child support?  You have the kids and I have nothing."  Made sense to me!

So now, many years later he is gone.  I am a widow of 20 years from my 5th husband.   I live in a 2400 square foot house and do not even date.  Church on Sunday, Lagrees grocery through the week and occasionally the little grandson spends the night.  I do have a male friend and sometimes I make lunch or supper for us.  I have coffee with his brother a couple times a month if I remember.  I work as a seamstress for the local uniform store to make a little extra money.  That is my life.  That and taking walks around the neighborhood several times a week and going to the doctor in the spring for my annual checkup.

So what I am wondering this morning, is when did the fire go out and complacency set it as my new normal?  There was a time when I marched for gay rights.  A time when Martin Luther King's dream was also my dream.  When child abuse and neglect would bring me toe to toe with the offender.  A time when I would grab my fishing pole and head to the river all alone to catch the "big one".  A time when a man in a pair of tight Levi's was like waving a red flag in front of a bull!

I guess what I want to know is this:  At what point did I become an old woman and leave the vibrant being I used to be soaking up the sun in a solarium some where?  Is there an internal clock in all of us that one day just shuts off all the emotions I used to have and turns on the nap in front of the television through the news mode?  And through the Jeopardy! I used to like?  I still like to cook, but that is because I need to eat.  I take a shower every morning, but I do not even see the reasoning behind that because I do not even get dusty most of the time.  When did dancing all night end and 8:30 bedtime begin?  Is this all there is to life?

Do not misconstrue this missive as me complaining about my life.  My life is good.  I am secure in my retirement.  I do not want to join the Red Hat Club or volunteer at the local food bank.  Sixty five years ago my dream was to be a missionary in Africa.  I wanted to feed the hungry and comfort the sick, but instead a blonde headed, blue eyed Greek God crossed my path and I never got back on track.  I guess what I want to know is this:  Do any of you out there ever regret the path you followed?  

Momma always said, "You can not get the toothpaste back in the tube."  That just means that nothing once done, can ever be completely undone.  If I had never met Earl Duane Seeger, my life would definitely be different.  Better?  Probably not because I would not have the kids I have today.  They are my legacy and my life.  

But sometimes I just wonder had I actually made it to Africa, would I have made it back home?  I could have been in a pot and been dinner for a bunch of cannibals!  God works in wonderous ways, his miracles to perform.  

Peace! 

November 21, 2020

One year ago on this  November 21 at 6:38 AM my cell phone pinged.  I was awake and had been for a while.  It was when I saw the message and that it was from Anthony that I was faintly surprised.  "The keys to the house are in the mailbox."  That disturbed me.  So I dressed and headed for town.

My phone rang before I got to his house and it was friends of his from Pueblo West who had been talking to him the night before and were concerned.  They were on their way to his house and just wanted me to know they were concerned. He had been home in isolation for over a week with Covid.

I arrived before they did so I got the house keys and opened the door and went inside.  His car keys and phone were on the kitchen table.  I had never been downstairs except once to check out his new furnace.  Since he was not upstairs, I knew he must be downstairs and he was.  His bedroom was at the far end of the basement and he was in bed covered up.  I told him I was going to call for help and he said "OK."

The rest is history.  Now I have always been a strong woman, but this has been a rollercoaster ride for me.  PTSD is what they call it.  Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.  It happens to military in times of battle.  It happens to anyone who has been through trauma of about any kind. It would not happen to me because I would not let it.  As referenced above, I am a strong woman.  Don't let that statement fool you!

Strength has nothing to do with it.  I must equate it with the rides at the carnival.  There are a couple that will have you going very fast forward and then suddenly you are going the other direction.  How you keep your head on your shoulders is beyond me, but it happens.  My life the past year has been just that.  I am normal.  I am driving down the street enjoying the beauty of an Autumn Day and singing my old country music with the CD player and before the next breath I am parked and sobbing on a side street. 

 This is my new normal.  

We were friends.  I thought we were good friends.  I guess what I am dealing with now, a year later is the loss of that friend.  There are steps that should be taken in dealing with death and I have done that, but there are gaps in my mind of that morning and they may never be resolved.  PTSD.   

It was never about love or the lack of it.  It was never personal.  It was not something he did to me or because of me.  I was never a factor in the planning that led to the final act.  I just was.  But by the simple act of "being", I became a means to an end.

So, as I take stock of the situation as it now stands, I know what needs to be done.  Get over it.  Move on.  Give it to God.  The mind is a simple thing, or is it?  Are there maybe things that we encounter on our way to the cross that our minds cannot fathom?  We all have our own concept of reality.  What seems right and normal to me may be ludicrous to you.  What is the answer to how I can finally resolve this in my mind?  

I don't know, but I do know this:  I have friends who care.  I have family who care.  I have a good life.  I still know how to live, love, and laugh.  I just need to do it more.  The answer is not inside these four walls.  I have already said goodbye to Anthony.  I now need to open myself up to a future.  I need to accept love that is all around me and fly high and free!

Peace and Love!

 

Rode hard and put away wet!

Momma said it, so it must be true!  She also said, "The road to hell is paved with good intentions!"  "Hindsight is 20/20 looking back."  "Easier said then done!"  Now for some reason, I think these little quotes come under the definition of "idioms".  It might be fun to note here that "idiom" is seperated in my paperback dictionary by only 2 words from the word "idiot!"  That is just a little tidbit of meaningless trivia to start your day off right.

It is now 3:09 AM and I have been up for about an hour.  I made a cup of coffee in my French Coffee Press since I am too tight to go buy another percolator for the sole purpose of making one cup of coffee every morning.  I have finally mastered the fine art of making exactly one cup full with no coffee left over.  Living alone has lots of advantage this being just one of many.

As a single, live alone woman, I am free to step out of the shower completely naked and dash down 2 flights of stairs to answer the phone.  I am also free to take my shower at any given time of the day, or night.  Lunch may occur at 3:26 AM and breakfast at 3:26 in the afternoon and ice cream is liable to happen about any time and is not considered a snack, but rather a meal depending on which other 2 meals it occurs between.

When someone says, "I will call you," that means nothing to me.  "What day and what time are you going to call?"   "Friday" is not a definite time.  If you think I am going to set home all day on Friday waiting for your call, you are on some sort of ego trip and that is a game I am not going to play.  "Soon" is also not a definite.  When one reaches my age every day is a gift!  While your call may be important to both of us it is not what my life hinges upon.  And, if you are 3 or 4 days late in calling, I will assume you are dead.  (Note here that "assume"  makes an "ass" out of "u" and "me".)

Sometimes I wander out the back door with a purpose in mind, like opening the goose house for the day.  Then I see something I have been needing to do, like sweep the leaves out of the tin shed, and that leads to pruning the choke cherry bushes, which then leads to trying to find the damn Dremel that has "walked off"!

The cat understands me, and that is all that really matters!  Right now she is over under one of the tables that holds ebay items and she is digging in a box.  I am assuming she thought she smelled a mouse or rat, or maybe she is just trying to get a rise out of me for some reason.

I am thinking of all the things I need to do and people I need to call and I am pretty sure no one on the list wants me to ring their phone at 3:21 AM!  And, anyway, I am mentally running through my friend list and coming up dry as to who I could call now and hear a welcoming voice.  I could call Bernie since she is 3 time zones ahead of me, but I just talked to her a couple days ago.  I know Debbie is up in Eastern Kansas, but I will talk to her when she calls in about 2 hours, so....

Maybe I will make another cup of coffee.  I am trying to organize the lower basement where the sewing room is, but the Centipedes are doing the "centipede thing" and I do not want to deal with them right now.  So, I am going to re-read this and publish it and do something that I do not know what it is right now.  No doubt, the 6:00 news with find me asleep in my recliner!

Remember, "All's well that ends well." and God will never give you more than you can carry!

Peace!

The last thing at night.

 I see him the last thing every night and the first thing every morning.  He is on my dresser smiling the big smile I loved so much.  He has on his sun glasses because his eyes were sensitive.  He had migraine headaches and they helped him during the daylight hours.    When I wake up I come out to the office and he is smiling that same smile at me from my computer screen.  I speak of him now in the past tense.  There is no present tense when it comes to him.  

I have quit waiting for him to call.  I have quit reaching for the phone to call him.  I do not put 2 cookies in a bag for him.  So much has changed in the last four months and they have been the hardest months of my life.  I have seen and done a lot in my life, but never have I been through anything that has so completely made me question whether life is worth living as this.

This covid crap has not helped.  I have been forced into isolation at a time when four walls are not what I need, but it is my reality.  The one thing this has shown me is that I have friends who love me and care about me.  I have friends I have never met!  Once I received a simple bouquet of flowers from someone I worked with long ago.  There was a phone call from a friend from Garden City that I had forgotten.  A lady brought me some "healing soup" and left it on the porch.  There was a gift of 4 Red Big Chief tablets for me to write my thoughts in.  And so many thoughts coming my way!

Most of my friends have no idea what happened and only know that I am hurting and reach out to let me know they are here for me. They only know that they want to share my pain.  I appreciate everyone of these gestures.  I will survive.  I may not want to, but I will!

My daughter in Longton, Kansas, always said "What don't kill you will make you strong!"  And she is right.  Some day I may need to look some one in the eye and say "I know what you are going through."  When that day comes I will remember what I went through.  I am growing stronger every day .

I am sure of one thing, if the Lord brought me to it; he will bring me through it.  My church was not there for me when I needed it most, but God was.  I could bury my face in the folds of his blood stained robe and he held me when I cried.  

I will be alright.  I make strides every day.  I can say his name without crying.  I can laugh at his little idiosyncrasies that made him so unique.   

And that, my dear friends, is because of all of you!

Never let your right hand know what your left hand is doing,

My mother always said that to me.  I do not know how many times that has popped into my head in my lifetime.  When I was younger and sometimes thought of doing something that I knew was wrong, that would run through my mind.  Try as I might, I could never make it work.  I fell in with a girl who shoplifted.  Sadly, her mother had taught her how.  I thought that was sad, but here was a mother who explained that the stores had lots of money, lots of products and they would never miss just one, or two.  I never asked my mother if this was right or wrong, but I did reason that if my right hand did not know what my left hand was doing that it was alright.  And her mother was an adult and adults knew stuff.

Sadly, her father also made homebrew and stored it in the cellar with the door wide open.  I think I was probably 16 at the time.  It was after I had lived with my grandma so I did not feel as connected to my family as I probably should have.  Grandma had died.  Great Grandma had moved to Southwest Kansas with her daughter and I was just sort of cut adrift.  So I was easy prey for someone who showed me a little attention.  My friends father always went to Hutch to gamble on the weekends, so the cellar was free game for whatever we wanted to do, which was to get drunk.  Get drunk and steal stuff.  I probably spent a year or so in that rut before I decided that it was a dead end party.

Time passed and I married, became a mother, divorced, remarried, and divorced several more times.  Some  where along the years I decided to pull my head out of my ass and become a decent human being.  I also became independent and learned to think for myself.  Stealing was wrong.  Drinking to oblivion was wrong.  Lying was wrong.  Hard work and honesty became a mantra that I was comfortable with and rather enjoyed.  I had always known about God and was baptized when I was 12 years old.  Looking back over my life I decided that I actually needed to wash all the sin away again.  So I did.

Now, the secrets I keep are just between me and God and they are mostly good ones.  I sometimes hand  money to someone just because.  My car is usually full of stuff to take to the migrant center.  When I buy groceries I purchase extra for the food banks around town.  I like to visit with the homeless.  I would bring them home with me, but I am afraid my kids would commit me.  I keep secrets from myself.  I just think that "but for the grace of God, there goes me."

My life is good.  My finances are fairly stable and I am mostly happy.  Sometimes I wonder just where this will all end.  Hopefully I can just not wake up some morning.  I do not want to get old and senile.  I do not want to have my diaper changed by one of my kids, but I guess what ever will be will be.  You know, the "Que sera, sera" thing.

As I set here at my desk, I have a cat on my lap, a dog at my feet and a cup of cold coffee to sip from.  Yep, life is good!  

And so it begins.

Happy Birthday to me, yesterday.  Just about everybody else my age is dead.  Gives me a lot to look forward to, doesn't it?  Those of you who follow my blog have probably figured out that I have a small problem with depression.  Not many people in my everyday world have figured that out.  This week marks my birthday, my only surviving brother in law's birthday, my son's birthday and ends on the 5th with my brother's birthday.  My brother has been gone 54 years.  I still remember it like it was yesterday.  It never gets better.

I remember the day I married my first husband (October 30)  and my last husband (December 23).  I remember the date the last husband passed but not the first one.  I have a mental block about a lot of things and that is probably the only thing that actually saves my sanity.  I just know I hate the whole month of October.  Unlike a lot of people, I tend to grieve inwardly so nobody knows.  I may be talking to you about the most mundane thing in the world and I am smiling, but I am seeing Jake standing in front of me with his lopsided grin and the scar on his right cheek.  I am hearing Hank Williams wailing in the background.  WSM from Nashville every Saturday night. It never goes away.

I realize blogs like this make my kids sad, because I am sad, but what they need to remember is this is my past.  I was not always their mother.  I have to deal with this on a daily basis.  I do not want sympathy, I just want understanding.  I will be alright.  Where there is life there is hope.  I do not need to go out and eat.  I do not need flowers, I just need my time.  This will pass.  It always does.

This month, I am undertaking a new kind of volunteer work.  It is not like Hospice where every client ends up dying.  It is one that involves dealing with people who are actually trying to get off the streets and into a home of their own.  I am not sure where this path will lead me, but I am going to go slow and find out.  Usually I jump in with both feet and tilt at windmills, but not this time.  Someone will lead and I will follow.

So, as I deal with my demons this month, be patient with me.  I have a theory that God is not through shaping me yet and I am sure of one thing:  God knows what he is doing and he is going to bring me out on the other side a lot better person than I was before.

He has a way of doing that, you know!

Is this normal? If so, I am out of here!

Dayton, Ohio or El Paso, Texas.  Either one is just another town and more senseless violence.  Where has my world gone?  We are going to have active shooter training at our church.  Our innocent children are wearing bullet proof back packs to school.  This is the new normal.  Where are the days of sand and shovels?  They are no more.  We are living in a new reality where we are all of us just a bullet away from eternity.  Why?  I make no claim that I have any answers and neither do you.

Many years ago our forefathers started this country and gave us the right to keep and bear arms.  The constitution calls for a well regulated militia.  The National Rifle Association is one of the biggest if not the biggest contributor to the coffers of men and women running for Congress.  They ask so little in return; only that the person they are supporting vote for laws that are in their best interest and their best interest is to sell lots and lots of guns for lots and lots of money.  And I do love that pat answer they give when I ask why these nuts need a gun.  They say,  "The only way to stop a crazy with a gun is a good guy with a gun."  Just how often does that happen?  I know, not very often.

It seems like some guy walking into a Walmart or wherever with an AK 47 is no cause for alarm.  I am sorry, but I do not know why they are allowed to do this over and over and over and no one stops to question why these nuts are allowed to legally purchase a gun and enough ammunition to fight a small war.

I do not give a big rats ass why someone wants to kill people they have never met.  I am sure that as I lay bleeding out from holes all over my body my last thought will not be "Gee, I wonder why he did that?  He must be a very troubled youth."  No, my last thought is going to be why in the hell I could not have a government that made any kind of an effort to regulate gun control.  Russia put a lunatic in our highest position of power and gave him a twitter account to spew his hate and venom and absolutely no one seems to give a damn except me.  This is being accepted as the new normal.  I feel like Rip Van Winkle when I listen to the news at night and death, hate, destruction is acceptable.  And this is all done by morons in Washington who claim that they are Christians.  I beg to differ with these men and women who I think are the anti-Christ.

My God is a God of love.  A God of compassion.  A God of healing.  He is not at God who locks people in cages because they want to escape tyrants that are killing them, raping the women and selling the children.  My God frowns on anyone that turns their back on that kind of behavior.  I hate the fact that I am too damned old to stand in front of the world and take all those people in my arms and bring them safely to an America that used to be.  My America is gone.  It will never return.  Climate control is out the window and Global warming in now a reality and I want to thank all the people that stand behind Donald Trump and call him a leader because it is on your head that our America is the laughing stock of every country on earth.

And all of you people who will call me a lunatic for this posting just know that I will be keeping the door open and I will do my best to protect you when you realize that you have shit in your nest.

Oh, the hell you say?

Birth and death are both amazing things that everyone of us will encounter at some time.  And it is utterly fascinating that at both those events we will be seeking the light!  I have had the pleasure of being present at both ends of the spectrum and I must say it was an honor every time!

First think about the birth.  What starts out as a little seed grows into a tiny human being in the space of 9 months give or take a few days one way or the other.  When the time comes it comes.  The mother does not have a choice as to what day and time this will occur in most cases.  Baby starts positioning itself for the downward journey and if mother is not ready, she better get ready.  I wonder if babies think on this trip?  I doubt it.  Birth seems to be one of the miracles of life.  And then here is baby!  In a well run clinical setting, baby pops out into a room full of medical people ready to catch baby and clear it's breathing passages, weigh the little bundle, measure, probe, prod, and so on as mommy and daddy, grandma and grandpa, aunts and uncles, beam with pride.  That is a perfect world.

We are all born, there is no disputing that fact and as sure as the world turns, we will all die.  In a lonely room some where we will face out destiny.  We will be the mother or father, the grandma or grandpa, the aunt or uncle, son or daughter.  We know what happens after birth when we have followed the light into this world, but we have no manual to follow when we follow the light at the end.

I am a simple minded woman.  I believe in God and I beleive his name is God.  I beleive in the Holy Bible and I beleive that Jesus is the son of God.  I beleive that when I follow the light out of this world I will be swept up in the arms of Jesus and carried to a place in Heaven,  wherever that might be, where I will never be hungry or cold and will walk on streets that are paved in gold.

Those are my thoughts for this day as I set here thinking of my sisters that have gone before me and the babies that have come since.  My God is good.

Wouldn't it be nice if it was this easy?

I believe in Jesus Christ and accepted him as my PERSONAL LORD AND SAVIOR . One Facebooker has challenged all believers to put this on their wall. In The Bible it says, if you deny me in front of your peers, I'll deny you in front my father at the Gates of Heaven. This is simple. If you love God, and you are not afraid to show it re-post. Just copy and paste this.

Found this on facebook.  Well, I actually find one like this on facebook every time I scroll through.  Actually I find several of these daily and I have now come to the conclusion that this is why my church, and many like it, are down in the attendance area.  If I love Jesus all I have to do is copy and paste this, because Jesus has a facebook account and he reads this stuff.  It works much like the letter to Santa.  If I be good and send a letter to Santa and tell him I have been good, he will bring me lots of presents.  I can ask for whatever and I will get it.  I do not even need to have a witness that I have been good, because by simply writing that letter I qualify.

And I know facebook is a venue for God, because so many people post these, but let me tell you a secret.  I have gone to their "friend list" and I can not find Jesus on there!  That troubles me.  If Jesus is not on their friend list, how can they claim him for their friend and better yet, how can they offer me salvation by me just clicking a button?   Since I am such a sceptic in this area, I think I will just skim over those posts.  

I am going to take my chances out in the real world and in my church on Sunday morning.  I like to commune with God when walking up a trail in Beulah, or around Runyon Lake.  I like to visit my friends in Hospice and smile at people in the grocery store.  I like to gather things for Los Pobres, and the Goodwill and sad little people on the corner.  With a little luck God may look down when I am playing with a puppy and say,  "Hey, she looks like she would make a good addition to my kingdom!"  

Sure hoping so any way.  So you go ahead and try it your way, but please do not try to make be beleive  that I have to share your post or I am going to hell.

Hard working hands and a heart of gold have gone to rest.

Jeannine Lamb

December 21, 2014

Once more our hearts have been broken.  Pastor Jeannine has gone to her final rest, but she does leave us with a legacy of hope, charity, forgiveness and a fire in our bellies!  When she came to us several years back our church was in turmoil as was the United Church of Christ across town.  She came into a "shared ministry" and she was the "shared minister".  Many hills and valleys later she was all ours!

Very seldom do I  find a minister with whom I can work hand in hand, but Jeannine filled needs in me that I did not even know I had.  She challenged me in areas where I did not even know I was lacking.  Under her guidance our church began to grow.  Our people began to thrive.  Any time the church had a function, she was there.  Mother's Day Out which is our pre-school program was the bright spot of her day as she loved the chidren.  

My first official fundraiser for the church was last May and was a high tea.  Pastor was there as a server and she worked tirelessly.  It was a rousing success!  Our soup and bread Lenten Lunches were her idea and she was the server for those.  Clean-up day found Pastor in her jeans and gloves.  From the craft/bake sale to Sunday morning Navajo Taco's or biscuits and gravy, she was there.  World AIDS day found her as our religious center.  She learned early how to handle me!  A simple "Gee, I think I would have done it this way," brought me to heel very quickly and left me thinking it was my idea.  A true master, that woman!

There was no task she would not under take, but yesterday morning when the choir at First Congregational Church marched down the aisle to sing for the very first time, it brought a tear to many eyes.  First Church has not had a choir for many years, but we do now!  Ken Joyal sat at the piano as the organ got a short rest.  The voices that rose to heaven yesterday reached the ears of God and our dear Jeannine and I know she smiled down.  I winked at her and I know that while she may be gone from our sight, she is not gone from our church.  I know that her and my dear Sammi Cody and all the saints that have gone before will lead us to a higher plain and our church will thrive and once more be a vital part of this community.  How can we fail?  We have a congregation held together by love and respect and angels in heaven smiling down at us!  How can we go wrong?

Goodbye to a wonderful woman

September 28, 2014

Goodbye to dear Sammie Cody

Hard working hands to heaven borne.

And left us here to mourn.

A saint  among our saviour's best

Hard working hands have gone to rest.

I shall miss my friend.   I met Sammie a couple months ago, but she had a tremendous impact on my life.  Her faith was so simple, so kind and so all encompassing that I was immediately drawn into a family filled with love.  Through her our church has grown.  We prayed for her and she for us.  She has opened my eyes in a new way to know that I just need to turn it over to God, assume it is taken care of and prepare to reap the benefits.  

I will write more about Sammie later.

If summer comes, can fall be far behind?

Ah, the garden has finally yielded nectar of the Gods, or in simple language, I finally got a tomato!  Let me show you my little garden of Eden here.  At first glance it may appear to be a patch of weeds.  That would be the untrained eye! 

See, if you just look way down here you can see a squash.  I planted two full packets of squash so the geese would have lots.  One packet was yellow summer squash and the other was zucchini which is there favorite.  I have 26 squash plants and only 2 of them are zucchini.  Big thank you to Monsato for that one, I am sure.

 

Here is the beginning of a yellow squash.  It is about 2 inches long.

And here is a bunch of them getting ready to be made into goose food.  See, if I pick them when they are 5-6 inches long and slice and sauté them with a little garlic and maybe a green onion....oh they are so good.  But then the skin is no longer smooth they are almost impossible to chop let alone eat.  The geese do not know the difference.  Stupid geese!

Now if you look real close here you can spot a little watermelon.  It is about 3 inches across and is going to have to do some growing if it wants me to eat it, and better yet, if it does not want to get frozen and have wasted all the summer trying to grow for nothing!  Geese don't even like green watermelons!

Some where over there on the west side are some potato vines, but I have learned that I need to wait until the vines dry up or I will have no potatoes.  I do not know why the call them "vines" because they grow straight up like a tomato plant.  Well, come to think of it, they call those "vines" also.  Here is one of them and if you can see a tomato, more power to you.

But, while I was rooting around there, I did find a big red tomato.  Hell, I almost jumped out of my skin!  What you see here was lunch yesterday.  Sorry you missed it, but there was only enough for one, and what can I say?

Oh, look!  Here is the angel Lyn set in my garden to make it produce and keep it safe.  I am thinking this little chickadee is falling down on the job!  But then again, I did get that tomato.

Now,  look what is right over the fence!  This is my New Mexico Sunflower taking over the area between the Choke Cherry Bush and the actual garden area.  That is where I bury all my pets, so it is some very fertile ground.  This is the first time I have had blooms for a while, because if you remember, the Llama's were over there for several years and they liked to eat them and they had very long necks and really big teeth!

 

Remember this?

So there you have my garden.  I have been telling myself for 40 years that next year I will do better and nothing has changed;  I grow weeds and occasionally God will toss me out a little something to eat.  But, you know what?  It has worked pretty good so far, so why mess with something that works?  Like momma always said..."If it ain't broke, don't fix it!"

 

 

 

 

 

 

And my world is once more in turmoil...or is it? Could this be a good thing?

No, I am not perfect!  I thought I was and  by the end of the day I may be perfect again, but last night I lay in my little bed trying to  rationalize myself to sleep.  I marched through 6 husband much like William Tecumseh Sherman marched through Atlanta on his way to the sea during the latter part of the Civil War and never dreamed any of it was my fault.  I came through all those years, while not unscathed, my head was still held high.  Today I am humbled, bloodied, and bowed.  This is the reason:

	Member id loumercer3 ( 1388) Top Rated: Seller with highest buyer ratings Click for help Proven track record of excellent service Ships quickly, with tracking provided on over 90% of items sold Has a minimum of 100 selling transactions per year Learn more about Top rated seller BubbleHelp Opens Start of layerBubbleHelp End of layer
	Start of Layer The positive Feedback percentage is calculated based on the total number of positive and negative Feedback ratings for transactions that ended in the last 12 months, excluding repeat Feedback from the same member for purchases done within the same calendar week (eBay time). Note: This could mean that the number of ratings used for this calculation is different from the same number shown in the recent ratings table on the left. Positives Positives + negatives This member's 12 month Feedback ratings Positives: 290Negatives: 1 This member's positive Feedback percentage 290 290 + 1 = 99.7% End of Layer Positive Feedback (last 12 months): 99.7% [How is Feedback percentage calculated?]
	Member since: Feb-06-06 in United State

Recent Feedback     ratings (last 12 months) This table shows the number of positive, neutral, and negative overall Feedback ratings the member has received in the last 12 months. More help about Feedback Rating- opens in a new window or tab   1 month 6 months 12 months Positive 35 205 326 Neutral 0 0 0 Negative 1 1 1 I have been operating on ebay since February 06, 2006.  In all those years I have maintained 100% both as a buyer and a seller.  Just check around and you will find that few people have managed that along with a Power Seller button and a Bronze rating.  Ebay is a cold, hard business with a lot of rules.  I have managed to stay on the good side of the powers that be for over 7 years. Needless to say when I checked my feedback yesterday I was astounded to find a red negative on  a $12.00 item.    Let me explain further what feedback does.  100% ties in to give me the power seller button and the bronze rating.  The best part about the bronze rating is the discount on my monthly bill to ebay.  Ah!  Now we come to the real nitty gritty of the business.  I pay for all my privilege's and the bronze rating reduces that bill by a percent that is tied to the feedback.  Now, I talk to people who do not give feedback or just click neutral.  Neutral is also bad, but does not actually count.  When I buy on ebay I will check a seller's rating.  If it is not over 99.5% I will find a seller that is.  Feedback is my bread and butter. So I contacted this lady and asked her what I had done to displease her.  Her verbal feedback was good, so I thought she may have just hit the wrong button. I was right.  She did say she would get on later and try to fix that.  If not the red negative will march across my dashboard for all the world to see for a full year.  But the damage has already been done to my little psychic.  My potential customers will see it and may choose another seller.  But all the "could'a, should'a, would'a," can not undo what is now planted in my little mind.  Perhaps I was not the perfect wife after all!  Maybe if I had the grit and determination during the marriages as I do with my little ebay business, I would now be a widow to my first husband, or the second, or the third......you get the picture.  But I wasn't and that brings to mind another old saying, "That is water under the bridge."  Yep!  Lot of water under the bridge and it looks like storm clouds gathering out west!  (That is a cryptic message to my avid followers.) So today I am off to church.  I am furnishing communion today and I made fresh bread, not because I want to impress anyone, but because I was to lazy to go into town and buy it!  While in the hallowed house of God, I shall bow my head and ask him to do something about this little problem.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I do not think that God will reach down and change that negative to a positive, but I think he may do a little something about this haughty spirit of mine that could sure use a little humbling.  As I contemplate my bucket list, that is one of the things that I want to change.  That and my filing system and my will.  Oh, yeah and clean the damn car. So you all have a good day and as a biker friend tells me, "Keep your hand on the wheel and the rubber side down.  Life goes better that way!"

And so I continue to let my life play out, or do I?

I have been doing a lot of thinking since I did the last post.  Deer in the headlight sort of thing.  As we get older we tend to think back over our lives and wonder if we made the right decisions, or at least I do.  I must take in to consideration that had I done things differently, one of the repercussions would be that I would not have the kids and grand kids today and that would be sad.  But can I be sure?  Let me take a small turn back in time to the day I sat with the Reverend Barnett when I was 16 years old and I told him I wanted to be a missionary.  He was very pleased and gave me some books to read.  Then he moved away and was replaced by a new minister who did not much like young girls seeking validation.  First missed opportunity.

Then we moved to Hutchinson and I started dating a little guy in my class named Gary.  We were high school sweet hearts and that was that.  I loved his mother and his sister.  But alas, I wanted to date someone who was taller.  Gary was very short, only about 3 inches taller than me.  I wanted to dance and I needed a taller boy for that and Gary had no rhythm.  So I dated Corky and we won all the dance contests, but alas I did not love Corky, I loved Gary.  But Gary had moved on, and this was my first taste of love gone wrong.  My first, but not my last, by any stretch of the imagination.

Since time began, older brothers have been bringing home boyfriends for little sisters, so Jake brought home to me Earl D. Seeger who was to become my first husband and the father of my children.  My brother died in a car wreck when my son was one month old.  Life was never the same after I lost my brother and Earl and I divorced a few years later.

Then it was the long legged guitar picker, the director of the radio station, the guy who owned the construction company, the steel worker and finally Kenny.   Some times I think I may have a little Mae West in me cause I never met a man I didn't like.  Some of them I could not live with, but I remained on speaking terms with all of them except one.  He was really mean.  Now do not think I remained friends with them, just on speaking terms.   If life could be lived over, Kenny would have been first and only, but life does not work that way.

At some point during the last 30 years I began to realize that I was a very viable woman and did not need to be defined as Mrs. Anybody.  Kenny did that for me.  He gave me the confidence to know that no matter what happened in my life, I was responsible and resourceful and I would always come out on top.  When he died in 2003 I knew a short period of panic and then I remembered what he had taught me and I have been fine ever since.  Good Lord put me on this earth for a reason, put me through my trials and tribulations for a reason , tested me with fire and tempered me with love and pronounced me ready for what ever is next. 

I can never go back and undo anything I did and all the wrong turns I have taken have led me to this spot in the road.  And here I will stand, looking left, right and down the road and back behind, knowing that what ever I decide to do next will be done because this is where God put me and all I have to do is listen and that still small voice will lead me where he wants me to go and I will do what he has chosen me to do.  He has been leading me all along and I never even knew it.  Now I do!

Course I might have tried to get even with my little Ryan subconsiously !

Well, if you read the last post you will know Ryan tried to kill me albeit quite by accident and he did not succeed.  What the little fellow does not know, and Grandma does, is that I almost did him in and it was with absolutely no malice of forethought.

It was a year or so later that I decided I was sick to death of the cast iron bathtub that was in my powder room.  You know the one that would have lasted forever and was gleaming white with very little effort?  Yeah, that one that was installed and then the room built around it.  So off I went with Kenny in tow to the city to find the perfect set up.  And there it was at that place on the hill.  Forgot the name.  Nice white plastic tub and the nice white plastic surround.  Little pricey, but what the hey!

Enter son-in-law that I did not particular like, but he worked cheap.  Rip out the wall, rip out the tub and haul it out back.  I will not go into the particulars of how many days it took to get that bathroom back in working order or how frustrated we got before we decided that son-in-law had to go.  Nor will I go into the time frame of how long it took Bret to get a chair in the tub and poke a hole in the side of the new plastic POS.  This story is about Ryan!

It took 4 men and a horse to drag that cast iron tub out back.  And there it set.  Trash man did not want it.  Scrap man did not want it.  So it set there.  Looking back I can now think of many things I could have used it for.  Could have been a strawberry bed.  I could have become Catholic and it could have been a great grotto or what ever those things are.  But it set there.  Enter frustrated grandson with a sledge hammer and it became something to relieve said frustration.  Now cast iron can be broken if it is hit just right.  First it was in two pieces and then three and you know the routine.

At that time I also had a chicken pen I wanted ripped out so I could make that area a garden.   I was trying to pull one of the t-posts out of the ground and having no luck at all.  Enter Ryan.  He thought he was way bigger than he was.  I might interject here that the easiest way to remove a t-post is with a jack and a chain, but that was in the garage and there was Ryan.  So the little fellow braced his feet, grabbed the post and jerked.  He did that several times and nothing happened.  Then he decided it was do or die and made one final attempt.  At the point when I thought he was going to pop a blood vessel, it came loose.  As the law of momentum is want to do, Ryan fell backwards and landed flat on his back with the t-post still firmly in his grasp.

And protruding into the air, barely one inch from his left shoulder blade was a foot long piece of cast iron the shape of a stiletto!  My life flashed before my eyes as he lay there with the biggest grin on his face!  He was so proud that he had removed that post by brute force.  All I could think of was what the scene would have been had he been turned just slightly, or the post had been over 8 inches, or this, or that.

When I said my prayers that night and for many nights thereafter, I thanked my omnipotent God for knowing way more than me and for thinking ahead more than this old woman, and for keeping his arm around Ryan and keeping him safe.  Do you remember this, my little Ryan?  That is one I am not going to forget in this lifetime.

So now go vote in the poll up there on the left.  It is no wonder you never come over and want to help old Granny anymore!

And the phone call came, as it always does....

Just got the phone call I have been expecting with the news that we have lost another client.  We had planned a farewell party for him for last Tuesday, but he wound up in the hospital, so we postponed it for a few days.  This is never easy, these parties, but it gives us all a chance to say goodbye.  Missed this one.

Why is it when that phone call comes, it is always a surprise?  We were expecting it, we knew it was coming, but just not today and not this early in the morning.  And why is it that when it comes the first response is to find someone to hold me when I cry?  I am a strong woman, and I know other strong women, and yet that is the first thing we want; someone to hold us. 

So, failing in that, because there is definitely a shortage of arms around here, I must do the next thing, and that is to rage.  Rage against the unfairness of life, rage against a young life cut short,  and rage that our government, our churches, the hierarchy of the world can do nothing about this damn disease that steals our people while the population in general thinks we have actually found a cure for this.  Rage while our young people have unprotected sex, because it can not happen to them!

Right now my mind is a dither, and I just wanted you to know some of my feelings at this moment.  You have all been there so I am sure you understand.  Just want you all to take the time to turn to someone and tell them you love them.  Tomorrow is another day and you may not get the chance.  And remember in spite of it all, God is good and his arms are always there for me.