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Showing posts with label loumercer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loumercer. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 27, 2023

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."  I look back over the years and try to find that skinny little girl that ran up and down Strong Street barefooted.  If only my life could be lived in reverse!  I see all my missed opportunities and think, "Woulda', coulda' shoulda' ", but I didn't.  Now it is too late!

When I came to Colorado all those years ago, I did so on a temporary whim.  I would come and live, but if Charlie and I parted ways, I would move back.  We parted ways and I stayed, but only temporarily.  But then one year turned to 2, and then 3.  I stayed and married Kenny, but with the goal in mind that when he passed I would return to Hutchinson.  When he passed, I didn't leave.  Things and commitments kept me here.  I own my home.  I have 2 kids here, 1 in Lakin, two in Longton, one in Texas.  My last husband is buried in Memorial Gardens and my name is on the other half of his tombstone.

I live all alone in a 2400 square foot house.  My friend list gets shorter every year.   We adopted Bret.  I also acquired 37 ducks and 7 geese,.  I built a pond.  Kenneth passed away.  I said when the ducks and geese were gone, I would move to town.  The foxes ate the ducks.  I said when the geese were gone, I would move to town. We are at a standstill now! I have 7 geese that are ageless!  I keep buying feed and they keep eating it.  Every night I close them in their house and every morning I let them out.  Once a month I go to Big R and buy 3 bags of grain.

My grass is dead because I forget to water it.  The 98 rose bushes I had at one time are all turned wild and been dug up and tossed on the heap.  Bret married and moved away and started his second family.  I just keep getting older.  I think about going back "home".  Where is home?  Hutchinson?  Nickerson?  Garden City? Lakin?

Every year I think back to what I should have done and didn't.  It is probably a little bit late for me to put the toothpaste back in the tube.  So, I get up every morning and go to bed every night.  Habit, I guess.  I know any one of my kids would like me to come and live with them, but I just can not see that happening!  I keep hoping I will get lucky and just not wake up some morning, but so far that is a pipe dream!

So, I close this and go let the decrepit old geese out, throw a rock at the neighbors cats that have wandered into my yard and look west at the beautiful mountains and remember why I never packed up and moved back to the flatlands of Kansas!

Peace!

Sunday, December 24, 2023

As another year ends....

 Another year is drawing to a close.  As I reflect back on this past year, I realize how much I have changed.  You may not think so, since my appearance is much the same.  Oh, a few more gray hairs and my complexion just a tad more leathery.  My weight remains the same and the hair is still white.  The changes are inside.  The changes are subtle.  I suppose it happens to all of us as we move forward from the cradle to the grave.

I moved into this house in 1982 with Kenny Mercer and my two kids, Sam and Susie.  They were both still in school.  Sam would go on to graduate college.  The kids are both gone.  Kenny has since passed and I remain here on my "Gods little acre."  with 7 geese and a calico cat for company.  The grandson that Kenneth and I adopted together is grown, married and has three  children of his own.

Today was Sunday, December 24.  Yesterday was December 23.  On December 23, 1983 Kenny Mercer and I exchanged our wedding vows in front of retired minister in Canon City, Colorado.  It was 15 degrees below zero.  We topped the ceremony off by enjoying a doughnut at the local donut shop. Susie was in middle school and Sam almost ready for college.

Sadly, I lost Kenny in 2002.  I have spent over half my life in this house.  I look around at where I am in my life journey and wonder how this happened.  It seems like only yesterday that I was surrounded by a vibrant loving family and the token dog and cat.  How many sunburns did I suffer while on a weekend fishing trip?  The children are gone, replaced by grand children and even great grand children.

I set here in my 2400 square foot house with a detached garage and an acre of land and wonder just where this will all end.  I can't sell the house and move into town, because I have 7 geese left from the good old days when I had 17 geese and 47 ducks and a pond.  They have only known this little acre  of mine as their home. 

And if I should move, where do I move to?  Do I go back to Hutchinson, where I have only one sister left?  I have no friends that I have kept in touch with.  Do I  go to Garden City, where I spent many years with my husband who is the father of my kids?  He is since deceased.  Do I go to Lakin where I have one daughter?  Or Longton where I have two daughters.  I have one daughter here and one son.  And one son in Dallas. 

Life would be so much simpler if the good Lord had not given us free will.  We should be born with some kind of handbook on how to do this.  But we weren't so I am stuck.  Guess I will just keep putting one foot in front of the other until one day I just cease to be.  Then it will be someone else's problem, won't it?

Peace!

Monday, September 4, 2023

It is morning!

Click here for the music! 

I seem to function best back in the 1940's.  It was the tail end of the depression and we had nothing, but that is where I was happy.  Maybe not so happy, but secure.  I was safe.  I think that was what draws me back to that era.  We were together in a 2 bedroom house with a wood stove in the dining room, front room, and in the kitchen for cooking.  We carried water from a pump out back until we finally got a sink and pump in the kitchen.  

A coal oil hurricane lamp in the middle of the dining room table gave us light to do our home work.  My fondest memory is setting at that table with a red Chief tablet and a fat pencil  printing my ABC's.  I wrote about that years ago and a wonderful lady, Linda Kelp, who is Michael McQuire's cousin sent me  4 Big Chief tablets from her home up north.  I still have them!  I do not use them.  I wrote on one page of one tablet where they came from and that is all.

It is sad some of the things I do and the things I hoard!  My cupboards are full of cottage cheese containers because I can not bear to throw them away!  We did not have them back then.  I do not know when we became a nation of disposable everything.  I remember when the city dump was a designated area outside of town and that is where people took their tin cans.  Everything else was reused.  Today we call it recycle, but mostly it just goes in the trash and is hauled to the dump.  I understand it is then pressed into a big block and either buried or dumped into the ocean.  I do not see either one of those solutions as being permanent!  Burning it pollutes the air we breathe, so you tell me!

Well, once more I have gotten off track!  I started this wanting to tell you how safe and secure I was as a child even though we had very little in material possessions, and end up wanting to clean up the world and save it for our children.  This old age is not conducive to stringing and article together to a cohesive conclusion!

So, I guess I will make a pot of coffee and start my day with the local news followed by the national news, neither of which I can do anything about!  I am better off just listening to Merle Haggard sing me back home (click that).

Peace and love!

Friday, September 1, 2023

Security?? For me or From me?

Just spent several hours locked out of most of my accounts because I wanted to share a bit of good news on my blog!  I must confess that after changing passwords on several accounts so I could get to his site, I have forgotten what the good news was!  Not only have I forgotten the good news, but I have forgotten all the passwords and I rather doubt that when I get through posting this, that I will give a big rat's patootie!

Life was so simple when I first ventured into the blogging arena!  But now, I find my desk covered with notes I have written myself, giving myself little hints on how to get into my account.  I must admit, my life was sure a lot simpler back  when I  was stupid and no one wanted to steal my identity.  Right now I do not even want my identity!

When I first ventured into this world of secret words and stuff I signed in to everything with "password".  Worked for me and no one stole my identity.  I could not imagine why anyone would want to be me!  Hell!  I did not even want to be me.  As life in the world of secret passwords began to take on it's own life, my passwords became more and my attention span became shorter.  It was not long before I hated the computer and all it's demands for longer and more complicated passwords.  Gone were the days when one password would open any program.

Last night I got on to pay a bill.  It should have been a 3 minute job.  Needless to say, it did not end up that way.  They insisted I change my password (in case it had been compromised).  That having been done I then had to tranfer money from my bank account to the bill I was paying.  Then I had to change the password on the bank account.  

Now, I am going to post this.  In the good old days I would just add a few labels , state my location and then hit the publish button.  Hopefully this will publish and I can hit another key and it will appear on facebook.  

The sad part is that I do not even remember at this time what I wanted to say to all of you.  I know it was important, but that is all I remember.  

So, until we meet again, Happy Trails and all that.  May the wind be at your back and the road rise to meet you.  The password for today is totalconfusion!!!!

Peace!

Monday, August 21, 2023

I am the old generation.

 Today I awoke with a cat on my bed and a dog beside the bed.  The dog is not mine, but the cat is.  As I lay there thinking what the day held in store, and it suddenly dawned on me, that I had no reason whatsoever to leave my little bed.  Oh, sure the dog and cat need fed and let out for a bathroom break, but other than that I could just lay there all day and no one would know, or care.

Once upon a time I had a mother, father, 4 brothers, 4 sisters, aunts, uncles and lots of cousins.  I had friends galore.  I had places to go and people to see, but sadly that has all changed.  My family is all gone except for one sister that I never talk to or see.  The one friend that I had for many years moved down south some where.  She had a daughter who was very disrespectful to me and my "brood", so we stopped communication.  The friends that I made here in Colorado have mostly died , or pissed me off for one reason or another.  I have no room in my life for deceit, disrespect, and judgementalists.  So I guess, as Mother would say, "I have made my own bed and now I can just sleep in it".  We all know how wise my Mother was!

I live in a 2400 square foot house, all by myself.  I have a cat.  The cat loves me.  I have 7 geese who do not!  They depend on me for food, water and a shed to keep them safe from the foxes and such.  Bret was 8 when I got the geese as babies.  He is 32 now.  Geese, under ideal conditions will live about 16 years.  This makes mine 24 years old.  Every morning when I go to let them out, I expect to find one with his feet in the air, but it has not happened yet.  Someone suggested that I give them to the zoo so they could use them as food for the lions.  That is not happening.

I have always said that when the geese die off, of natural causes, I will sell this place and move somewhere else.  My destination is not set in stone, just so it is some where else.  I entertained the idea of buying a small van and just going from place to place, but even that seems like a lot of work.  I could just call someone to handle an estate sale for me and walk out the door with one suitcase.  That actually is the most appealing scenario at this point.  I could visit each of my kids for a month at a time.  They would be glad to see me twice that way (once when I came and once when I left!)

But for today, I will let the geese out of their pen so they can play in the pond I built for them in the garden area.  I am toying with the idea of planting fruit trees in the garden area.  If I cut down the cottonwood tree, I can fit 2 peach , 2 apricot, and 2 cherry trees in that area.  Or I can just drink another cup of coffee and wait for Jeopardy! to come on this afternoon.  I love that show.  I turn it on at 3:00 and then I wake up about 4:00.

Peace!


Saturday, August 5, 2023

I am a hero!!!

 Yesterday I became a hero!  The day started out as just another day, only I had a grandson with me.  He had spent the night so we had the whole day ahead of us.  We usually take a fairly long walk and that was how we started this day.  We walked up South Road toward 25th lane.  The ditch angles off across the country in a sort of south easterly direction.  Before we got to the ditch we passed the goat house.  It is really not a goat house, but a man lives there who has raised goats since I have lived out here lo onto 40+ years.

We noticed a small goat with his head through the fence munching on a weed.  We stopped to watch, but he just kept straining at the fence.  My grandson noticed that his head seemed to be stuck in the fence.  Crap!  What to do?  The gate to the yard where the owner had his house was locked.  I called out a couple times, but there was not any sign of life forthcoming.  All the rest of the herd was gathered to watch the small goat struggle.

I am not a animal person by nature.  Dogs and cats and an occasional bird does it for me, but it soon became apparent that I was the adult in this situation and if the little goat was going to be freed from the fence, it was going to be me doing the freeing.  I had a short conversation with God, wherein I asked if he could take care of this, but he did not answer.  Great!  I knelt on the ground and touched his horn.  Yep.  He was in there very solid.  He was not going any where anytime soon.  

Now when I find myself in a situation like this I always assume the one who got into the pickle was a male.  I being the alpha female needed to solve this some how.  With the grandson breathing down my neck I grasped the little guy with one hand on his nose, (in case a goat bites) and the other on the horn.  He was very calm as I raised his nose so I could manuver the tip of his horn through the fence.  That being accomplished the nose and other horn quickly slipped through the fence.  He looked at me with what I hoped was a look of gratitude, turned to his herd, kicked up his back feet and ran for the barn, followed by the rest of the herd.

It was at that point that my grandson declared I was a hero!  I had saved the goat!  I must say, I did have a very warm feeling at that moment.  It is kinda nice to have a kid think I am  a hero, even if it was sheer luck that it worked out so well!  The owner of the goat will never know what transpired while he slept, but my grandson and I know.  I just talked to my son and my grandson never mentioned it to him, but that is alright.

For just a little while I was a hero and my grandson looked at me as something more than a cookie machine.  The little goat has probably forgotten his predicament.  He will no doubt grow up to be dinner on someone's plate.  

It is called the circle of life!

Peace!


Monday, June 26, 2023

As twilight falls....

 When I awake in the morning, I usually reflect on times gone by.  Often they are waaaaaaaaaaaaay bygone, but sometimes more recent.  This morning I was counting my blessing, one of which is that I still seem to have a healthy body and a good portion of my mind at my disposal!  But then I drifted to a place where a friend of mine named Nancy was stored.

Nancy was a lady, to say the very least.  She was very smart having a background in teaching both in primary school , but later in college.  She was married with 4 children, grown and gone.  The children were also very smart and successful in their chosen fields.  She was always very well groomed and never seemed to be flustered by anything life handed her.  She was a widow by the time I met her.

She and I were both retired and widowed.  She lived with two sons who were old enough to have families, but had never married nor reproduced.  My family was grown and gone on to build lives outside of the Pueblo area. So as two settled in our lives adults, we became friends.  

As such we went to lunch usually once a week.  Sometimes she prepared food and sometimes I did.  But mostly I would pick her up and we would go "out for lunch".  We took turns picking up the check or we went dutch.  Just depended on our mood.  We would then go for a walk somewhere interesting, like the Nature Center, or one of the nearby parks.  Just two adult women killing a little time and catching up on the weeks events.  But that all changed.

Sometimes there would be a lapse in the conversation that lasted longer than it should.  I would ask a question and she would smile at me.  Usually she was waiting on the porch when I arrived since I called her from a block away, but sometimes I would have to go to the door.  It became my responsibility to do all the driving at one point.

Then I began to notice, her hair which was a beautiful silver, was not always combed.  Our conversations became more me talking and her listening.  Then our weekly lunches became further apart.  She never called me, I always called her.  So we began to drift apart.  Then her daughter called to tell me that she had gone into a senior retirement home, temporarily.  Of course I went to see her.

She was the perfect lady, as usual.  She began to talk about how she remembered the kindness my son had shown her when he removed a tree from her yard.  My son lives in Dallas, so I was sure that was a hallucination.  The next visit she asked if I would like her to make us lunch.  She explained that she had lots of food in her refrigerator and opened the door to reveal one orange and a bottle of water.  I knew the facility had a dining hall so she was fed, but she sure was not equipped to prepare a meal from that meager refrigerator.  My heart broke that day.  

I never went back.  She had no idea who I was, so I did not want to further confuse her.  It just broke my heart that such a beautiful and brilliant woman could have this happen to her and she did not even know it was going on.  She passed a few weeks later.  I guess that is how this disease works.  You forget your friends, your family and then your body.  It is so sad, but then it is over.

I miss her.  I will always miss her, but I miss a lot of people at my age.  It looks like I am destined to live for a long time because I have the genes for it.  I do not think I have the dementia gene because only one member of my family ever had it, to my knowledge.  My hope is that I will get older, have a clear mind and then just drop dead watching the geese chasing grasshoppers in the back yard.

Momma always used to say  "God will never give you more than you can handle."  Momma is right.

Momma was always right!

Peace! 

Saturday, March 4, 2023

Queen of the Silver Dollar!

Many years ago, when I was 18 years old in Hutchinson, Kansas, there were three taverns, better know as beer joints down on south main street.  They were known as the 3 Queens.  You should know that it was also about the same time the Navy base was being phased out.  Now brother Jake and I liked to drink and I liked to dance.  In Kansas, at that time any bar worth frequenting had a dance floor.  So, let's set the mood here by clicking on the title of the song!  queen of the silver dollar

So, this oasis down on South Main Street in Hutchinson, Kansas housed a plethora of bars.  Brown Derby, Manhattan Club (which was my favorite), Anchor Inn, another one that slips my mind, and the Crystal Ballroom.  The Crystal Ballroom, which had a giant crystal ball mounted high above the dance floor, was only open on Saturday night.  It was mostly for old people.  There actually was a bar called the Silver Dollar, but it was clear across town on Highway 96 on the way to Nickerson.  I was only there once or twice. I did not like the ambiance there.

The Manhattan club was owned by a man known as "Dutch" somebody.  I would sometimes work the bar so he could go do errands in the afternoon.  A few notes here.  At that time it was illegal to sell alcohol to Indians because it "made them crazy".  It was hard for me to differentiate between them and Mexicans, who could drink until they fell over.  Sure different from now when you are required to serve people of every nationality. 

 There were whores who worked the bars.  I knew only one and her name was Seabiscuit.  That was not her name, but it was her "working name." I do recall she drank White Horse Scotch with cream.  Pretty sure those two things together would curdle, but not my circus; not my monkeys!  I came to know her on a different level.  She once had a family and a home like normal people, her husband had left her and taken the kids and South Main Street became her home and prostitution  her means of survival.

There was another one who was a little "pudgy" and giggled a lot.  I am not sure she charged for her wares, but rather did it for the sheer enjoyment of the work.  Her name was Berniece.  

My step brother, Gene had frequented the bars and they both remembered him.  Since my maiden name was Bartholomew it was easy for anyone to link us together.  Gene Bartholomew, Delbert (Jake) Bartholomew, Louella Bartholomew.

Fights broke out fairly regularly at the Manhattan Club, but as soon as the police arrived the fights stopped and they were warned not to do that again.  I still carry a scar right below my ankle from a beer bottle someone threw across the floor that broke and went into my heel.  

The last time I went to Hutch, I was going to go to South Main Street and check out my old stomping grounds, but I didn't.  The next time I am going to make it a point.  I am willing to bet that the bars have turned into antique shops. That time of my life was over 60 years ago, and time marches on!

My kids will no doubt, cringe in horror when the read this post.  But then again, they may actually be relieved to know that momma was young once and wasn't always a prude.  And they may understand how I figured out what they were doing because Momma done been there and done that!!!







Wednesday, March 1, 2023

The real state of your affairs.

 If any of you out there think you have your likes and dislikes and that you have any control over them being fulfilled as such, let me clue you in to this fact: Karma rules the universe.  You are but a mere spot that shows up as a blip on the radar occasionally, if karma so decides.  Sometimes it does and it is good.  Life is wonderful!  Sadly, this is the seldom ever scenario.  Usually it sucks.  Mostly we just plug along with one foot in front of the other until we get a little break and we are happy for a time.  Usually it is the "blow below the belt" and we are left picking up the pieces of our broken dreams.

If we are happy it is usually at the cost of someone else being unhappy.  I do not mean that we have to do anything to make this happen, it is just the way life happens.  If I go shopping, my wallet is sad, but the store is happy.  I smile and say "Hello" to strangers that I meet  on the street and am usually met with a smile and greeting back, but not always.

Then when I get home and flip on the news.  I listen to news about car jackings, murders, thefts, child abuse and some one waving a flag to save the planet.  Inflation in out of control and law and order went out the window a long time ago.  If your child goes to school and comes home without some nut shooting it, we thank our God.  

What happened to our old fashioned values?  You know, the ones about God and country?  The one about remove the moat from your own eye before trying to get the one out of your neighbors eye?  What happened to holding a door open for someone to pass through?  Or picking up what the lady in front of you dropped and handing it to her?  How much does it cost to smile at someone?  You may be the only person someone meets today and a smile from a stranger might be enough to brighten their day so they can survive the night.

No doubt they sometimes think I am crazy when I go to the local grocery just to pick up an Avacado, but I go through the whole store and smile and make remarks to every person I see.  Maybe it makes someone happy and maybe it is my way of socializing in this post Covid world, but it works for me!

So, just some thoughts today.  

Remember:  You cannot sprinkle showers of happiness on other people without getting a few drops on yourself!

Peace!

 





 abuse and somebody waving a flag to allow abortions. What And then I come home and turn on the news to en 

Sunday, February 26, 2023

Skip a rope.

 I have pretty much lived my life as an open book.  Not many secrets behind my closed doors.  Oh, I may occasionally dash from the shower to the bedroom stark naked because I forgot to get clean underwear, but that is about it.  And I may have an occasional carnal thought crossed my mind, but for the most part I live a fairly honest and open existence.  Sadly, I find that is not the case with a friend or acquaintance.  And that gives me pause to think back to my mother's words.  Mother was the wisest woman I knew, but she also had a side that was what she called her "dark side."  I think I may have one also!

Oh, it is not that bad!  Just little things and thoughts that flash through my mind on its way to oblivion.  But I am filled with consternation when I learn of someone actually acting on their sick little fantasies.  Or maybe it isn't a fantasy, only a need to control someone else.  And when that someone is a child, it enrages me.  

Childhood is a time of sand and shovels!  A time of play and imagination.  A time to learn.  A time to build up and a time to take down.  A time of laughter and a time of reaching for the stars.  A time when home is a safe place to grow.  Not a time to be beat down and belittled.

I remember my childhood and while we lived in abject poverty, we had a safe home.  If we did something wrong, we were punished.  Not beaten down, but punished and we knew why we were punished.  Never were we struck because mommy or daddy was having a bad day.  In all fairness I do not remember ever being spanked.  I spent time with my nose in the corner thinking about what I had done, but never put there just because someone bigger than me thought it was a good idea.

Being a grandmother is kind of fun.  Little kids really want to please and they want to help.  Sometimes, it takes a lot longer to do something when I have help and the cookies may come out rather dry or lopsided, but they are still cookies.  We wash our hands, so they are safe to eat!

I let the grandson sleep with me when he stays the night.  He used to have his own bed, but then he decided he needed to keep me safe.  Not sure what had happened to make him think I was not safe, but if he needs to, he can.  Maybe it is not so much me he is worried about!

I guess the purpose of this post is to convey to the adults who read this that children speak a different language then adults.  The little body that is in the bed to "keep grandma safe", may be seeking it's own safety.  Listen to your kids.  I mean really listen.  Listen to the children when the play.  click here

Peace!


Thursday, February 9, 2023

His name was Dewite Jackson.

(That was not his real name, but rather a pseudonym that I shall use in case he is still alive and/or has family back in Nickerson, Kansas.)

Times were definitely different back then.  Nickerson Grade School was a 2-story red brick building.  Lunch was served in the downstairs Hall for everyone except the little Bartholomew kids who carried potato sandwichs tied up in a handkerchief.  The kitchen was located at the end of the hall and right between the girls' bathrooms and the boys' bathrooms.   Grades 1-4 were on the first floor and 5-8 were on the second floor. The Principals office was located on the second floor.  The principal at the time was Mr. Somebody who was in charge of running the whole school and making sure there was harmony and a conducive atmosphere for learning.

Now, the first thing you should know is that back in those days, 70 years ago life was different.  There was a thing that existed called "discipline."  It existed in homes and schools across our fair land.  It was usually dispensed at home, so schools ran on an even keel and if an incident happened at school (which was a rarity) it was handled in the principal's office.  

At the time of this particular incident, I must have been in about the fifth grade.  Dewite was probably an eighth grader.  Mr. Somebody stormed onto the playground and grabbed Dewite by the ear and marched him into the school, up the stairs and into the Principals office.  I have no idea what offence he had committed, but we all knew it was bad!  Now we all knew that Dewite was just a little short in the social skills department.  Back in those days it was referred to as "odd", and today it would be recognized as a social problem, but that was before the days of "awareness."  Back to the story.

Mr. Somebody was a skinny fellow who always wore a suit and tie.  Physically he was a skinny man who, in retrospect, would not survive an altercation with anyone else his size.  And Dewite was bigger than him.  We all stood on the playground looking at the office window which was open.  We watched in further amazement as the black rubber hose that was used for disciplining errant students   came sailing out the window and landed on the ground.  It was followed very shortly with Dewite emerging from the back door of the school and walking across the playground to his home right across the street.

We never saw Dewite again.  I think his mother just kept him home because back in those days there were not schools that could handle "special needs".  Soon we forgot about him.  The music teacher married Mr. Somebody's son, although she loved the coach.  I knew many things back then, but few of them have survived the passing of 70 years.  

I am rather glad that schools have changed, and students now have rights, which brings me to another point.  With rights also comes responsibility.  We learned that early in life.  Seventy years ago, was a different world.  We were taught respect for our elders at home about the same time we learned to walk.  We never questioned adult authority and that was not always good.  Some adults were not respectable, but we survived.  We survived to live another day and to raise kids that respected elders but could also question authority if it did not seem right.

Several years ago, Dona Marie and I went back to Nickerson.  They have built a new school and there are homes where the old school stood.  Main Street is mostly deserted.  Engles Candy and Book store is gone.  Warn Appliance.  The drug store.  IGA moved and Flemings is gone.  It is hard for me to realize that all this was seventy years ago!  I can still see it in my mind's eye like it was yesterday.

The one thing I have learned is that no matter how things change, the more they stay the same!  The schools have changed and discipline is no longer handled behind closed doors with a rubber hose.  I think that is good, although I have seen quite a few instances where the old saying "Spare the rod and spoil the child" comes to mind.

Well, for the most part, I think I turned out pretty well, but I do wonder about Dewite and a lot of my classmates.  Reminds me of something my oldest daughter is fond of saying, "What don't kill you will make you strong."

And so it goes!

Peace!


Friday, January 13, 2023

Baily

 Life goes on, or so I hear.  I look back over the years and remember life growing up at home and it seems there was always some sort of dog or cat that was hanging around the back door.  Animals were not allowed in our house back when we were growing up, but that all changed when I married and had my own home.  Below are Icarus, who now shares my bed, and Daisy and Elvira who were my last two dogs.


I still have Icarus, but Daisy and Elvira have been gone for several years.  Before them were Chile Dog, Calico, Boots, Jake, Oopsie, Tammy, Kitty, Sysnyck,  and many others.  They were all members of my family and I shared my bed with all of them.  They all hold a special place in my heart and there is a special place behind my house for their ashes and everyone of them still lives in my heart.

Most of my friends are animal lovers and have special dogs and/or cats, but occasionally a person will come to my home and not understand that Icarus is looking at them like "that" because they have chosen to set in "her" chair.  Of course, the dog is going to sniff you when you come in.  You are invading her space and she needs to know that you are "alright".

There are only a few places that my animals are not allowed to go.  They are not allowed on the table or the kitchen counter.  On top of the kitchen cabinets that end right below the ceiling is discouraged and does not happen very often.  This having been said, you should know that I am an animal person and that is that.

So it is with a heavy heart that I post this poem for my friend, Steve.  It pretty much says it all.  

Rainbow Bridge

Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.

When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.

All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.

They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.

You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....

Author unknown...

RIP Beckham




Monday, January 9, 2023

Momma and the mink jacket.

 I recall the growing up days in Nickerson as the worst kind of poverty.  Looking back there are a lot of things I endured that were worse than the stigma associated with the Strong Street years.  Many times, I have longed for the security of that dilapidated old house with the outhouse behind it.  Through all the times of trouble and strife Momma kept food on the table and Dad kept the wood box full of wood to burn for both heat and cooking.  I remember the first butane cook stove we had.  What a luxury that was!  It was only used for cooking special meals.  But I digress!

When momma finished her course at the Salt City Business School, she found a job with Franklin Fee Investment Company.  She wore a dress to work and set at a desk doing desk stuff.  We finally moved from Nickerson to Hutchinson.  We first lived on Avenue A, but then Momma got a chance at a house on Fifth Street that she could buy.  We became homeowners.  At that point in my life, it meant little to me. What mattered most was the house next door.  It had an enclosed front porch and a sign out front that said, "Elledge Furs".  Inside the window stood a mannequin wearing a mink jacket.  Her eyes were blank as she stared into the abyss that was her life.  But that jacket caught my mother's eye!  

Mother went to Mrs. Elledge and made arrangements to pay money on that jacket "every time I get a little extra".  And she did!  We never missed a meal, but sometimes momma would pick up a little babysitting or house cleaning and that was "extra", so it went on the jacket.  We never missed a meal and at some point, the jacket was paid for, and it came to reside in our closet.  I am not sure I ever seen her wear it, but the glory of it was that my Momma had it and it was real mink!  She modeled it when she brought it home and that was the last I saw of it.  I will have to ask Donna whatever became of it.

The last time I went to Hutchinson, I drove down 5th Street.  The plumbing shop was a sewing shop and Elledge Furs, along with our house and the next few houses around it was now an apartment complex.  Dillons was still across the street, but it had gotten a lot bigger.  So much has changed since I lived there!  I recall an old adage, "You can't go home again".  Momma said that and you know what?  Momma was right!

Momma was always right!

Peace!

Monday, December 12, 2022

Hindsight is 20/20 looking back!

 My momma, the wisest woman in the world told me that years ago. I sometimes wonder if my kids will ever look back and remember anything I said.  I sure hope they do.

Growing up in a house that was home to six kids we all had our place in the hierarchy.  When my father married my mother, he had 3 sons from his first wife who had died.  They had been placed in an orphanage because he could not care for them.  The younger two were adopted into homes but kept in touch over the years.  The oldest left the orphanage at age 18 and mostly wandered the world.  

Of my family growing up, Josephine was oldest because she was the first born to my mother.  She had a different father than my dad.  Her father was supposedly a gangster in Chicago.  Who knows!  Then came Jake, who was the only son, simply because he was the only son.  Then came me, a bright and shining star on the roster of children!  Not really.  That put me in the middle child position which is not a place anyone wants to be.  But there I was, nonetheless.  Then the others who mostly tended to favor my father in coloring and mannerisms.  Donna and Mary were next followed by Dorothy who was the youngest.  Her sole claim to fame is that she was the last one born to my mother. 

Mary was always my dad's favorite.  There was never a question about it: It just was.  When Mary went to Junior High School and they had a dance, my dad went to town and bought her a beautiful white prom dress.  It was so soft.  Mary met and married her future husband when she was 13 or 14 years old.  He was 15 or 16 at the time.  I think.  I am a little foggy on the ages, but they were both very young. I do know I borrowed her prom dress when I married Earl Duane Seeger in 1960.

I look back down the road that I have traveled, and it makes me very sad.  My mother tried to give us kids everything we wanted and needed when she herself had been through trauma that I would never know about.  There are only two of us left, me and Donna.  I wonder if Donna ever thinks about our childhood.  I wonder if she remembers it the same way that I do?  I do know she squeezed a baby rabbit so hard once that it bled out its mouth and she put it in a drawer and covered it up with a washcloth, but it died anyway!

For the record, Lavender is still my favorite color, and my mother is still the angel that I remember.  The only difference is that instead of living on Strong Street in Nickerson, or on Avenue A in Hutchinson, she is walking on the streets of gold.  She is not in any pain, and she gets to look down on me and see that she raised a very strong woman after it is all said and done.  She is waiting for me to take that leap from here to where she waits for me.  I just hope she knows how happy I am that I was raised at her knee.

We all different mannerisms as is common in big families.  Josephine was the oldest, so she was bossy.  Jake was the only boy, so he was expected to do boy things, like chop wood, take the old tomcat that ate the baby chicken to the forest and chop off its head with the same axe, and mostly just do boy things.  He did let me tag along sometimes.  Of course, we all had to cater to Mary and Dorothy, because Dorothy was the baby, and Mary was the pretty one.  Mary was also Dad's favorite.    I do not think he liked me at all, but that taught me how to raise my own kids later in life.  

I bent over backwards to make sure that I did not favor one over the other.  If I spent $20 on one for Christmas, I spent $20 on each of the others.  Later my son pointed out to me that this was wrong.  I should have bought each one a gift especially chosen for them regardless of price.  He also pointed out that he was the only boy and should therefore be granted special status!  Little turd!

But this blog is actually about my high school prom.  Mom had somehow managed to get her hands on enough shiny polyester fabric in a beautiful lavender color.  She then scraped together enough to buy several yards of lavender net to pair with it.  She sewed me a beautiful prom dress all my hand with a pattern in her head!  It was beautiful!

It is at this point that the adage, "You cannot make a silk purse out of a cow's ear." comes to mind.  The softest net is very soft and lays differently than the cheap net that momma could afford.  When the skirt was stitched together with the bodice, it left the stiff net to completely encompass my waist.  What started out to be a fairy tale night, ended up being a torture.  By the time I got home to take the dress off I had a very raw waistline that was actually bleeding. It was packed away in a box under the bed and I do not know what ever happened to it. 

Lavendar is still my favorite color.  Always will be.  Lavender is still my favorite scent, and the beautiful fields of Lavender in Grand Junction is my favorite place in the spring.   

Momma told me long ago that my childhood would be what defined me in my later years.  She sure hit that nail on the head!  My experiences of those long-ago years guide me in everything I do in my old age.  When I think of momma it is always the house on Strong Street and the old wood stove and the ducks and chickens out back.  It is the Peach Tree by the chicken house and the treadle sewing machine and the Catalpa tree by the road.

Wonder it that is what heaven is like?  I sure hope so!

Peace!

Friday, October 28, 2022

I need to think before I speak!

 It was one of those conversations that happen when you are on one subject and your fellow conversee is on another.  Ross was on his way out of town.  It was my job to take care of the cats until he returned.  He has many cats and they all have names, but the two old cats who live inside are named Queenie and Sparky.  They are not to go outside, so they receive special treatment.

The first afternoon he called and I wanted to tell him Queen Elizabeth had passed in case he had not heard.    The following conversation ensued:

"I'm inside the fortress!  Did you know the Queen is dead?"  There was a long pause during which I heard the sounds I could not identify. End of conversation.  

It was not until later when I received the following message in my email, that I realized I might have been misunderstood.

Hey Lou,

sorry not to be as sensitive about the death of the queen when I called. I was confused when you said the queen died cuz I was thinking my cat. And then the gas pump was spewing gas out of the car so it just was a confusing time.

 

OMG!!!!  I am sorry!!!  Although I am snorting coffee out my nose as I write this!!!  

 If one of the critters does not survive till you return, I will break it to you gently. I think a couple escaped to the outside.

 Your Queen is fine, although Sparkie did not greet me yesterday, but I did touch him and he was not cold, just sleeping. 

Just thought it would be fun to share this today since it is cold and dreary outside.

Peace!

Thursday, October 27, 2022

Life in Plevna, Kansas

 It must have been about 1955 when I went to live with my grandma'a in Plevna, Kansas.  It was also the year I started high school.   Now there were only about 40 kids in the whole high school.  High School was on the second floor and grade school on the first.  But all that is irrelevant.  

What matters is that it was in this place I began my high school education.  Now, as luck would have it, the lady who lived right next door to the grandma's was the daughter of the man who lived next door to my home in Nickerson!  They also had an old car that ran pretty good and traveled back home to Nickerson a couple of times a month.  Mother made arrangements for me to ride with them when they did go to see her and father.

Now it becomes a little fuzzy in my mind, but I think the lady was named Elsie and I think she was blind.  I do not think they had any children.  All that is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. So once a month, I think, we would pile into the car and settle in for the 20-mile drive.  The man would fit the crank in the front of the car, wherever he fitted it, and give it a hard pull.  The engine would roar to life and he would jump into the car and as soon as the engine was running smoothly, he would retrieve the crank, close the hood, and prepare to drive the car.  It was when we traversed the road to highway 50 that the fun began!

He liked to sing!  I strongly suspect that he may have also liked to drink a bit!  Of that I am not sure!  But he did like to sing.  One of the songs went like this:

" Oh, I won't go hunting with you, Jake, but I'll go chasing women!

So put them hounds back in the pen and quit your silly grinning!

The moon is right and I'm half tight, life is just beginning!

I won't go fishing with you Jake, but I'll go chasing women."

His wife would try to hush him because there "was a child in the car," but he just sang all the louder.  He seemed to know lots of songs. but that is the one that sticks in my mind.

Sundays at our house were always special because we usually had meat of some sort.  Special was when we had a roast.  That did not happen very often, but there was always hope!

At 4:00 we would hear the car roar to life next door and momma would make sure my face was clean.  Then the horn would beep (ooga, ooga) and I would run out to the street.  The man would open the door, I would jump in, and he would close the door.  Then began the 20 mile one hour drive back to Plevna.  

I wish I could remember his name, but I don't.  Life was so simple back then!  Needs were few.  Pleasure could be found in walking barefoot in the hot sand road of Strong Street or running the back road to the sandpit.  Kick the can was the game of the night and the moon was the only light we had after the sun went down.

Go to sleep, all my childhood memories!  I sometimes long for the day when I can run out the door, jump in an old jalopy and go see my momma.

Peace!


Wednesday, October 12, 2022

Where did that girl go?


I found this picture among my souvenirs.  I think it was probably taken when I was in my senior year of high school.  For the record, I did not graduate high school.  I was too busy doing what I thought was more important, like dancing and "stuff".  After all, I had a job at some burger drive in and could bring home as much as I needed for cigarettes.  Looking back, I think I was pretty.  Even given that, I never dated.  I went to dances and had plenty boys wanting to date me, but I just wasn't interested in settling down or at least not until Earl Duane Seeger walked into the Crow Bar that night back in 1960.
That is me on the far left.  Looking at this picture makes me sad because I am the only one left setting at that table. He passed in 1994.  Larry and Maude passed in the last 2 years.  So that just leaves me.

So time marches on and this is a picture from last year.
 This is from the high tea last year and all of these kids are my great grandkids!  Not grandkids, GREAT Grandkids. I am the little wrinkled up old lady in the center.  These kids are capable of making me a great, great Grandmother! Where did the time go?
Mother called it like it is when she said,  "When you are over the hill, you pick up speed."

Rest in Peace, Momma.





 

Sunday, October 9, 2022

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!

Saturday, October 8, 2022

Welcome to Texas little Colorado girl!


So last week I went to  Dallas, Texas.  Sam and Ross got their little heads together and Ross delivered me to the airport in Colorado Springs, reported to Sam and his shift was over after the plane left the ground. Sam met me at the baggage carousel and I was then  under his watchful eye.  There is something to be said about the good care he gave me.  Kind of makes me wonder who raised him!

Sam eats vegan so I told him I wanted the same diet while I was there.  Gotta' say it was an experience.  He made vegan a very pleasant experience although it is very time consuming.  The one deviation he did make was to feed me two eggs for breakfast every day.  Being a little older I do need protein and eggs are a good source of protein.  Three square meals a day is something I could get used to.  He also took me to see Grapevine, Texas, which is definitely unique and worth the trip if you ever get down that way.  Starbucks was a morning ritual.

Needless to say, I had a wonderful visit and my departure day was soon here.  So Sam and I got up early (5 AM) so we could make the 7:30 departure time.  He dropped me at the door and headed back home.  After I was releived of a few items at security I travelled up to gate.  A 7:43 departure would deliver me to Colorado Springs where Ross would scoop me up and I would be safely deposited at my home before 10:00.  Things were right on schedule, but then that old  "The best laid plans of mice and men, oft times go astray", came into play.  The Colorado Springs Airport was too foggy to land.  The piolet circled a few  and then decided to go to Durango for fuel.  Then they (there are 2 of them on every flight) decided to set there for 2 hours.  Next they decided to "deplane".  So we all went in.  About 2:30 or so, they decided they were "out of hours" and could not fly any more.  The decision was made by the powers that be, which sure as hell was not me, that a whole new flight crew would have to be flown up from Dallas.  That would only take a few hours.

Finally they arrived.  After much "to do" we were loaded back on board, and the engines roared to life.  We must have taxied a couple hundred yards when the plane stopped.  Captain was explaining to us that we were waiting for the mechanics to investigate a "funny sound".  I am sorry, but in my wildest dreams an airplane far up in the air and a "funny sound" are not acceptable in my books!  By now it was getting dark and I was NOT having fun!  I must admit that  the man in the seat next to me was a very nice man, fun to talk to and helpful in every way.  His name is David and he lives in Colorado Springs, but travels a lot.  He explained to me everything that was going on and how it was all routine mostly and all for my safety.  And now it was dark!  What had began as the start of a 58 minute flight was now entering 12 full hours and not over yet.  Ross was on his third trip to pick me up and I was setting in a plane on the runway with no hope of ever getting home.

To make a long story short, I did finally get home at 9 something PM.  Sam and Ross have decided that the next trip I make will be when Sam drives halfway up from Dallas and Ross drives halfway down from Pueblo and meets him with me being exchanged during lunch.  I cannot help but say American Airlines sucks.  I do not ever want to go through this again.  Meeting David was the only good thing.  Oh, wait, there were several other young ladies who were very nice.  All in all, most of the passengers were understanding and took my bitching and moaning in stride. I think I was saying what they were thinking.

Now it is my bedtime, so I shall toddle off to crawl in my nice warm bed.  Life for the most part is good, but sometimes it just kind of gets tedious

Monday, September 12, 2022

Momma said

 When I come to a place in my life where I am not sure which way I should go, it seems momma always pops up in my mind.  She always had the answer.  Whether she knew the question or not was usually a whole 'nother kettle of worms!  She passed before my husband, so I spent many years muddling through without her wisdom.  It is just a good thing that I lucked out and had a good, honest man in Kenny.  I do not know how I made it this far!

The one thing she did leave me with is something I will share with you.  When one of my friends or one of my husbands had disappointed me beyond belief and I expressed this to her that "I thought I knew him better than that", she said, "You never know anyone.  You know of them.  You know the part they let you see."  Those words have came back to haunt me more than once.  Sometimes it breaks my heart to know momma was always right, but she was.

I try to take tentative steps in my life and if nothing pops up in my path, I do pretty good.  I seem to have raised 6 kids who are pretty much responsible and successful and I think for the most part my life is pretty good.  I know one thing for sure, I took/take very good care of the geese !  I got the first 3 goslings when Bret was 8 years old.  He is 30 now and they are still alive.  

My plan was to sell this place when the geese were gone and travel around the country spending time with the kids and grandkids.  Not happening!  Like momma said "The best laid plans of mice and men ofttimes go astray."  I have a hard time typing because I have a cat that insists of laying on the keyboard.  I have a 2400 square foot house and this is the only place she can find to lay.

Fall is in the air and it will not be long before I am out there shoveling my way to the goose house so I can break the ice on the tank so they can drink. I buy 150 pounds of goose food a month which I unload and put in a barrel to feed them.   And I cannot even pet them!  They have never pecked me, but they are not conducive to physical contact.  Well, hell, neither is the cat!  When I try to pet her, she bites me.

So, it is 6 AM and the sun is going to pop up here pretty quick and start my day.  I guess it beats the alternative doesn't it? 

Or does it?

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...