All that is missing is the sign nailed to the front door.

It is day number something of the shut down and social distancing and I am about to go stir crazy.  First there is this matter of not knowing what day it is.  I used to go to church and so I knew when Sunday and then Monday was.  The grandson came on Wednesday and Thursday.  That is past history.  Can't even spot the weekdays by what soap opera is playing, since they are all screwed up also.

So now I have a white board on the back door and whoever knows what day it is has the chore of writing it for me to see.  So far this week I have had 6 Wednesdays.  Looking forward to Monday.  I know when people get old and have help coming in, it is the job of the caregiver to assess the client and part of that is to ask them what day it is.  That works really well if one of the people knows for sure.  I have however devised a plan to figure out what day it is.  I look down in the corner of the screen on the computer and get the number of the day.  then I look at my fireman calendar and find that number.  This works well as long as I am on the right month.  And then there is the act of remembering the day until I get to the next one.  What I should have done was start marking off days, but they all seem to run together.

I spent yesterday down in the sewing room and actually got the cutting table cleaned off.  Also found a quilt top which I quilted, bound and now have it laying across the back of my recliner ready for my morning nap.  When I got up this morning, I was excited for several reasons.  The first, I am on the right side of the sod.  I cleaned the bathroom yesterday, so I do not have to do that today.  I thought I would maybe go out and burn some limbs I have out back.  Maybe I will rake around a little.  I need to go buy some Aamdro because I have a giant red ant hill right by the bottom step of the deck.  These are the mean ones.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          
Not sure this program is still working, but going to publish this.  Just want to keep in touch with the real world.  Better times are coming!  Hang tight.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

What is in that bush?!

I am setting here in Dallas in my bedroom (but I think if I am not here it could be anyone's bedroom, not just mine.) and outside the window is a bush and in the bush is a mother bird and at least 2 babies.  The babies are fully feathered and hopping around from twig to twig.  Mother just flew in and crammed something down the little birds throat.  He does not look very happy about it, but mother knows best!  I am afraid to get my camera because if the flash scares the little fellow he may lose his grip and fall to the ground.  Sam told he there is a cat that hangs out around here and we all know what cats are good for don't we?  Well actually, they are good for several things, but I am talking here about their eating of the birds and such.

(Side note here.  Right now at my house there us a mouse running loose that my Icarus brought in and turned loose for  me to catch.  See, she loves me and knows I am incapable of catching my own mouse so she is trying to make it easier for me.  I am hoping that by being gone for almost 2 weeks, she will be mad enough at me that she will will not care if I starve.  We will see how that goes!)

It is amazing to think that probably 30 days ago this little bird was just popping out of an egg maybe an inch in diameter or less.  And now he has all is feathers and a very big beak for the mother to cram food into.  She just came and did it again.  I am sorry, but if that was my baby I would not feed it!  It actually tries to fight her off when she comes.  I do not see the other bird, so either it flew away or the cat carried it off for breakfast.  Oh, never mind!  They are right there side by side so mother is feeding them at the same time.

It is amazing how nature works, isn't it?  Birds do not appear to be very smart, but this bird has managed to hatch out at least 2 babies and kept them out of the cat's mouth long enough that soon they will fly away and start their own nest somewhere.  If they do not fly away today it is going to surprise me.

Oh, oh!  Sam is home.  I better go clean up my mess before he sees it!

Just getting up early to bitch!

Course I always get up early and have my alarm set for 5:30 AM in case I sleep late.  Since I get up early, I get my best work done before Mr. Sun pops over the horizon.  Several times a month I "redirect my emails."  By this I mean, the ones that have slipped by AOL's stringent spam eye.  That is a simple matter of clicking on the "this is spam" button which sends it to the spam folder which allows me to delete a whole page of trash with one little click on the delete button.  But occasionally I like to go in on each one and "unsubscribe".  That is a time consumer.
In the first place, most of them were never subscribed to in the first place.  Remember back when "junk mail" was the rage?  I used to keep a box by the door and toss it in there to be burned or shredded since I could not throw it in the trash because it had my name, address, telephone number, birthday and second child's information all over it.  I get very little junk mail nowdays, but the computer is full of it!
But sometimes I notice that the spam folder is becoming unmanageable so I start through and read them, sort of, but not very closely.  I can tell you, if I were to order all this stuff, I would need to be a very tall man, with a heaving bosom, a flat stomach, small penis, wrinkles, long eyelashes, full lips, flowing hair, shapely legs with varicose veins, in need of birth control, and suffering from erectile dysfunction!  This tells me that they have not researched me very well.  That being said, I start reading until I come to the "unsubscribe" button.
Now they want me to give them my email address that I want to unsubscribe from.  Excuse me!  This one.  And now, why do I want to unsubscribe?  Because I never subscribed in the first place.  Would I like to change my settings?  No, I don't think so.  What year did my father die?  Damn!  This is harder then I thought!
So when this is all done, I hear my mailbox click.  Oh, look!  A letter from them telling me how much they are going to miss me.  Won't I please reconsider?  This is much like the "do not call list"  that I update on a regular basis both on the land line and the cell phone.  Needless to say that does not mean you will not get phone calls from political parties, surveys, religious organizations, charities, off shore drilling rigs and the occasional scam to tell me that my darling grand daughter has been arrested, and I need to wire $15,000 to a bank in Tiawan to secure her release here in town.
But, on a lighter note, it is shaping up to be a great day!  Off to breakfast with the church people, then in to work with the step daughter, then home for what ever reason I always return here.  The moon on Thursday night was huge and beautiful before it was covered by the clouds.  Last night I could not even find it!  That troubles me cause I thought I knew where it was.
Have a good one and remember that every cloud has a silver lining!

January 16, 2013. Lunch at my house with my new floors.

From left to right around the table are Faye Gallegos, Maurine Hale, Sister Barbara, Sister Nancy.

 

Under the table is Elvira, Mistress of the Night who thinks she is in charge.

Sister Barbara and Sister Nancy

Pastor Faye listening intently and Pastor Maurine taking notes.

 

This little gathering was one of my better ideas.  What better way to break in my new floor than to have four sainted women over for lunch and discuss a matter dear to all of our hearts?  Just nothing else would do.  A little background here will help you understand.  Pastor Faye is a retired UCC minister and lives in Colorado Springs.  She was Interim pastor at First Congregational when I attended there.  More importantly she was then and still remains my very dear friend and confidante.  She marched with Martin Luther King, Jr. and was most vocal and active in the fight for Civil Rights passage.  She is very active in all ministry work including the animal shelters and Heifer International.  And she raised kids at the same time.

Pastor Maurine is very active in the UCC Conference and various groups around Colorado Springs one of which she was representing this day.   This group takes on a project and this time it is Sister Nancy and her Los Pobres Migrant Center.  (An aside here.  Maurine is married to Max Hale, who is still very active in Pastors for Peace and does a blog that you can reach by clicking here! )  While her husband is retired, Maurine remains very active.
When I write about people I usually like to list 4 or 5 things that they will be remembered for, but that is not going to work for this bunch of women. 
So I have introduced you to the two UCC ministers and now we move on to Sister Nancy and her mission with the migrant workers of Southern Colorado.  I finally got a little of the skinny on how Los Pobres came to be the operation it is today.  Seems that many years ago , 1979, to be exact, Sister Nancy was having dinner with Father Gallagher at his parsonage at Sacred Heart of Avondale.  As the evening progressed there would be a knock at the door.  Father Gallagher would excuse himself and step out for about 10 minutes and then come back and set down and resume his job as host.  About the third time this happened, Sister Nancy decided to "spy on him", and was surprised to see him sacking up clothes and food for a man who was clearly an illegal immigrant. 
When she confronted him, he confessed and she told him, "Well, it is clear you are sort of organized, but let me help you and I think together we can do a lot more good."  In the beginning of their operation, it was run from a room in the parsonage.  Sister Nancy began to keep records of the immigrants who were accessing provisions and services.  Of course all this was done behind closed doors as the workers were all illegally in the United States.
But thank God for people who will do what ever is necessary and trust that good will win in the outcome.  In the year 2000 they built a small shed behind the rectory and the operation was moved to that area.   This is how it works in the real world...People die, babies are born, INS arrests and deports illegals to Mexico, women cry, and every day the business of living is a matter of course.  Children who do not know where Mexico is, are sent back there to live in a land they have never seen with people they have never known.
(An aside here  to a personal experience.  I think it was back in about 1980-81, I had daughter Debbie and her husband living in this town with or near me.  Patty and Dona were also here.  Well, Tex and Patty decided to go "work in the fields", since it was ready work and they could make lots of money.  So they piled into my Chevy and off they went.  8 hours later they returned.  Patty's eye was bloodshot and looked very bad.  Seems they were picking peas and Tex had pulled a weed and flipped it over his shoulder into her eye.  They were sunburnt beyond belief, exhausted, dehydrated, generally out of sorts with life.  The opened their hands to give me the fruits of their labors.  This grand total amounted to $3.28.  I was disappointed, to say the very least.)
The point with that story is that wages have nothing to with hours spent bent over in the hot sun.  I recall several years back that there was a lot of uproar about the illegals coming into this country and taking jobs from the locals.  So Pueblo County "cracked down" and the illegals were deported and none came from Mexico.  As I recall, the crops rotted in the fields because no one came to pick the produce.  I think they have lightened up since that little fiasco!
Back to Los Pobres.  In 2002 they received a grant from the Packard Foundation and built the big shed they are in now.  There are 5,000 families registered.  200-220 families weekly access the food bank.  The center distributes 1000 pounds of pinto beans, 600 pounds of rice and 720 cans of vegetables.  Everything at the center is done by volunteers.   Donations are made to the center by word of mouth, mostly.  Got clothes you want to donate?  Sister Nancy east of town,  Furniture, blankets, diapers, hygiene products, appliances, pots and pans, and on and on.  Sister Nancy east of town.  Everyone knows who that is.   I have a bag of coats in my car awaiting delivery.  Last summer I packed up a house full of clothes and household goods.  Took me 7 trips, but I got it all out there.  They are always in need of cooking oil, flour, beans, rice, canned vegetables.  I have a brochure here that I would love to send you.  Just call me.  719-546-1555. 
Well, I have once more digressed.  We did have a lovely lunch of one of my better offerings; home made chicken and noodles, mashed potatoes, some sort of veggie and gluten free biscuits with cheese and garlic just because I wanted to make them.  Finished that off with a fresh peach cobbler with ice cream.  So after several hours of visiting, I gave them a tour of my little corner of the world and then they hopped in their cars and away they went.  All things considered, I thin we had a very lovely day and would love to do this again very soon.
Want to join us?
 

Just another little bump in the road.

There you go.  this is a miracle in more ways than one.  First, I took this picture myself and it is clear and you can see it and actually count the stitches.  Second miracle is that as soon as the dermatologist seen it she wanted to do a biopsy.  No waiting for her.  And I let her which is the third miracle.  I do not like anyone cutting on me and telling me to hold still.  And the third miracle was when I came back to get the stitches out from the first  one, I let her do it again!  This is the second one.  This should be the last one.

Now I have shared many aspects of my life with you from the fight with the boyfriend to his passing last month so I do not feel one bit reticent to share this little deal with you.  My dermatologist is Sharon Kessler here in Pueblo and she is a dream come true.  And just look at that wound there.  It is about an inch long and I am willing to bet that when the stitches come out it will be almost invisible.  I love that woman.  And she did it right there in her office in just a matter of minutes.  Now comes the sermon.

I grew up in the age of sunshine was good for you.  Running behind the sprayer when they sprayed the mosquitoes on a hot evening in Nickerson was fun because it cooled us and we slept better after our little mini shower.  We had an asbestos mat under our stove and on our table.  The AMA ran ads in thier publications that said "Throat hot?  Smoke Kools."  We smoked in the car and the kids didn't know they were at risk.  We sprayed the crops with ddt and then canned the fruits of our labors.  Ah, the good old days.

So now we are old and we see the dermatologist once every 6 months to a year to get things burned off of us.  We go to the eye doctor to have the cataract removed.  We hack and cough and try to rid our lungs of the asbestos and coal dust and God only knows what else is lurking in our bodies.  We take cholesterol lowering pills trying to get our arteries clear from all the artifical crap that is clogging us up.  We are obese because our bodies can not digest the stuff that is in the food now days that is supposed to make us healthy. 

So what is the solution?  Damn!  I was hoping you could tell me.  The first 60 years of my life I spent marching uphill, raising kids, buying a house, raising grandkids, and now I am in the golden years and I am still marching uphill, raising kids, trying to keep the house, paying astronomical utility bills and wondering just when I will reach the top.  Problem is when I do reach the top, the other side is downhill and everyone knows, when you are over the hill you pick up speed.  Now where was I going with this?

Oh, yeah.  You should be wearing sunscreen any time you are out in the sun.  And there is something about SPF or something like that.  Damn, I did so want to make this some sort of public service announcement, but I forgot how that was going to work.  And they say your hearing is the first thing to go!  Anyway, wear the sunscreen and for crying out loud stay away from the mosquito sprayer on a hot night.  Oh, and buy my book!

 

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

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

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

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

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

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