I been doing it wrong all this time!

I was tooling down South Road the other day and I came across 4 people on bicycles.  I was luckily in my  little car so I did not embarrass myself.  This is when I discovered just what it is I am doing wrong.

When I ride I just hop on this old balloon tire bike with no gears and away I go.  I wear what ever I happen to have on at the time.  Usually wear tennis shoes, but only cause that is what I wear.

I need to get me one of those skinny tired bikes with a bunch of gears up there and the brakes on the handlebars.  On mine I just pedal backwards and I stop right now!  Not later on down the road, right where I pushed backwards is where I will be when you find me cause the sudden stop sometimes unseats me.

And I need to get me some stretchy clothes.  Little shorts that come about mid thigh or whatever that bone is there between my knee and my bottom.  And a stretchy top.  Oh, yeah and some little gloves and a helmet and some sort of goggles.  Some sturdy shoes that are small.  Now I was going pretty good clip when I shot past  those people, but I think I got it in my mind's eye.  So I am going to go look at bikes this weekend.  It has got to be purple though.

And while I am there looking I shall check out the stretchy clothes.  I have always wished I had stretchy clothes.  Sure would solve that diet business I keep thinking about.

Now the biggest problem I have is finding friends.  Got plenty of them that want to hang out, go to lunch, stop by for coffee, but very few that I can talk into actually riding a bike or even going for a long walk.  They will come for supper, but leave before the dishes are done.  And if I did have a friend that would ride with me, the talking would have to wait.  I like to just kind of pedal along and look at the sky and the flowers and hope a dog don't chase me.  I do not have stamina enough to ride and talk both.  I usually have my headphones on and will probably get run over some day.  In that case a friend would be handy to call 911 assuming I am dead.

So there you have it.  And my solution is this.  I think I am going to get a new tire and tube for this bike.  Squirt a little more WD40 on the pedal thing and there where the tires turn.  Save my friends for later.  Shorts and tees I have now will get me by another year.  And these green, pink, and grey shoes are just getting broken in good.

Well, I tried to come into this century, I am just too tight!

High Tea at Yumiko's house and it was fantastic!

OK I can see this is going to be tricky since the computer freezes up every time it saves and that slide show takes time to save.  But I shall persevere!  First I want to tell you how this slide show can be viewed best.  Take your cursor to the bottom left of the slide show and click on that little note just this side of the little people form.  That will turn on the captions and you can see what I have written about each picture.  Oh and there is a lot more you can do, but I will let you experiment!
Yesterday I was invited along with several other members of the Weaver's Guild to a High Tea at Yumiko's house.  And I am so happy I went!  To those of you who know Yumiko, you know what a joy she is!  To those of you who do not, I want to share with you that she is one of the most unique individuals I have ever had the pleasure of encountering.  My first glimpse of Yumiko was at a Guild meeting when she did a presentation on recycled weaving.  She explained how she haunts the Goodwill and other places in search of garments that can be unraveled and then knitted, crocheted or woven back together.  I was aghast!  This seemed way beyond recycle mania to me.  Then she explained.
She does not just unravel anything.  It has to meet certain critera, ie. silk, wool, cashmere....Ah now, I get the picture!  For  $2 or $3 she can get stuff I am paying an arm and a leg to buy.  Clever woman! Since she lives in another town, my only encounters with her have been at the guild meetings.  So when this opportunity arose I jumped at it. 
Yumiko is always impeccably dressed and when I comment she points at her sleeve and says "Goodwill", the bodice and says "ARC" and her hat and says "Garage Sale.  Most of her garments have been purchased, unraveled and reworked, but the hats are another story.  I think she buys them, and she always has one on! You have to get up pretty early to get the bargain before she has it snatched up!
Her home is a work of art in itself.  When we pulled up out front the whole yard is a profusion of color.  The Peonies on the right side of the drive were as big as dinner plates and every bud was open.  The Clematis were to die for and the Poppies, well what can I say.  the woman has lavender Poppies!  The yard was just the prelude to a wonderland inside.  First the display case with a million puppies in it and I swear they were all the same color.  Two looms  in that room, sort of a sun room.  Then into her studio where there was another loom and a stash of thread and yarn to rival mine.  Think she has me beat.
Between the sun room and the studio is a short hall and that is where the Kimono or what ever that is hangs.  I tried to give closeups of this stuff, but no camera could ever do justice to this stuff.  All the wood carvings were made by her mother. They are so intricate!  Just every where I looked there was more to see.  My brain almost exploded!
We finished in the living area where we met "Monica".  Monica is a mannequin that is older than I am.  Very stern looking woman.  Yumiko  changes Monica's clothes for the seasons and sometimes just for the fun of it.  And see the 2 pictures of Yumiko and me in front of Monica?  I did that so a certain someone who shall remain nameless can see that this is another person I am taller than.
 And be sure and check out the banquet.  I show only the dessert table.  The Ginger Chicken Salad, some sort of chutney,  and the most wonderful Squash Soup with Coconut Cream I have ever had the distinct pleasure of ingesting in my entire life  was not on the camera.  But I can see it in my mind's eye.  Oh, and the Naam bread. That woman can cook!!
I could go on all day about my afternoon, but I have other obligations.  Suffice it to say, I will be making a run to the mountain community soon, cause I know she has leftovers. That and there is a great Goodwill up there and she is going to teach me the fine art of unraveling.  So stay close and I will share with you.  For now, just enjoy the slide show and leave me a comment or two that I can share with Yumiko.  You can remain anonymous if you like, but I would love to have your name.
So, from this little member of the  Handweavers Guild of Pueblo, remember this.  If you are not naked you can thank a weaver somewhere!

Well, good morning world and watch out the day is coming!

Well, I hit the floor a bit late this morning and it is probably a good thing I did or I would be in the ER by now.  I nonchalantly wandered out here to my office, glancing out the window as I did so.  What do you suppose was cavorting on the lawn right in my line of vision?  A Red Fox!  Not just any Red Fox but a very small Red Fox.  I am sure he has me and my ducks to thank for his survival to young adulthood.  In my haste to grab the camera I walked into the filing cabinet.  You know the one with the sharp corners?  By the time I got the bleeding stopped, El Foxo was long gone.

But it was replaced by a huge sun that I could look directly into with out batting an eye!  This phenomena is caused by the smoke from all the fires South of here.  Since it was still below the tree line and I wanted a clear shot, I wandered out to the North side of the house, sans footwear. Another bad move on my part.  Needless to say it was a futile move on my part since the filter on my camera would not let the sun show through.  Must be something about the same reason it will not let red eyes show.  So two events already and no pictures.  Want me to take pictures of my wounds?

So with a bit of time on my hands I remembered my dream of last night.  I dreamed my oldest daughter, Debbie and her Hammer moved to Arizona to a cave.  Now this cave was in the side of a mountain that was made of brittle coral.  So I broke off a small piece.  Some snot nosed kid saw me do it and told the forest ranger.  Now I needed the forest ranger because there were thousands of mice in her house.  They had chipmunk fur, but they were mice.  They were running from the thousands of other things that were on the floor.  These things were a cross between a centipede, a night crawler earth worm,  and a Red Racer snake.  The only way I could manipulate across the room was to stand on a chair and make it hop.  Now trust me on this, the only direction I wanted to go was out of there!  I had no idea where Debbie was so I just woke up!

Ok. it is almost 7 AM here and it looks like my day is started.  Later today I am going to post a blog about the migrant bags.  I learned a lot yesterday, but I need to get my stuff together and try to keep my facts straight.  Can't be lying to you people here cause one of you will catch me.

Oh, yeah and bright and early this morning I received a very fascinating bunch of pictures of the U.S.A. in the way back years.  It is quite a large file but I want to try to figure out how to get it on here to share with you. 

For now I am going to go lick my

wounds and then go do the chore thing.  Hang in there!  Bedtime is coming.

Now since I posted this I went and downloaded the pictures and maybe you  can see.  May have gotten more than I thought I did.  Any way..............

I have an itchy friend and I sure do feel for him.

I had a brief email from a friend back east on Wednesday.  Seems he done got to close to the Poison Ivy and now he is not a happy camper.  I do feel for the boy!  I did not realize it was that time of the year already, but it would stand to reason that all the pollen is flying so Poison Ivy would be no different.  I am very well educated on this little aspect of life.  Many years ago when I had tiny children and lived in Garden City, Kansas, I got my first taste of that little plant.  The husband went fishing.  When he came home and showered, the devoted little wife tossed the fishing clothes in the washer.  First bout of Poison Ivy.
Usually in the Spring I drift off to Hutchinson and work in my sisters yard.  Well, we finally decided that the Southeast corner of her yard was full of that stuff.  First year was not so bad.  Second year took me to the emergency room for a round of antibotics and steroids.   But the last year was total hell.  Last time left scars. Lots of drugs on the last one.  And since it seemed to be every where on my upper torso and I could not bear to have anything touch it, all my tee shirts were releived of the neck band and sleeves and shortened.  The best part is that I never even seen the stuff.  Would have been nice to face the enemy head to head.
I have learned that Poison Ivy is one of the critters that every time you get in it, your reaction is more pronounced!  And it is much easier to get than it was the first time.  I am to the point now that I can just pick it up from a nice gentle breeze if I stand down wind from the stuff.  Kansas and Missouri is riddled with that stuff and that is where I usually travel, so I am staying home this year.  I am pretty sure my sister is rid of her little patch, so that is cool.
That being said, just let me play you a little song and then get busy on chores and such.  To my friend I would like to say....Sorry about that buddy!  And  remember that time changes everything!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Dbev-k2wos

Memorial Day was just that!

Memorial Day was the same as last year.  Cook out at Penny and Cathy's.  But the memorial part was coming home and a guy named Daniel and his wife came to get the pickup that I sold on eBay.  Cash in hand they arrived right on time.  And they were a delight to meet!

I had told him it needed a new battery and to deduct that from the price so he came with not only a new battery, but tools to install it!  Guy thought of everything.  The truck had not been started in a couple months so I was hopeful it would not disappoint me and it didn't!  New battery, turn the key and life under the hood!  We discussed why I had bought it in the first place and I explained that it was for my 16 year old son and the driving force behind a 1969 Chevy pickup was insurance costs.  See, there is no way to hurt one of them, but they can do a lot of damage.  So that was a lost cause.

We discussed how safe his son would be surrounded with all that steel.  I remarked that the kid would never know the agony of his first dent or scratch.  Mother concurred!

I watched it drive down the driveway and was a little remorseful that I had not gotten myself busy and restored it myself, but if I have one more thing to do, my head is going to explode!  Today I am taking a little break from eBay and I know that tomorrow I will regret it, but such is life.  I am going to get the thing that makes a photograph into a digital image and do a little introduction to my middle daughter, like I said I would do how long ago? 

OK, that is my short little report for the day and I am now off to do stuff that needs done.  Wish me well, but that recliner is looking mighty tempting about now!

Lost: one zest for life.

My oldest daughter called the other day and talk turned to my blog.  She commented that she keeps getting on, but apparently I do not.  And she is right!  I have given serious thought to this and I have come to several conclusions.  I was all gungho and had a fire in my belly when I started this thing.  I wanted to write and I wanted to tell you things as I saw them and as I remembered the good old days, but some where I got off track.  Other things crept in and the blog became secondary.  I have lots of emails to answer every morning and I guess that is good.  Ebay is taking a lot of my time and PFLAG seems to be more than I remembered.  See, I have a lot of excuses, but that is all they are.  What it actually boils down to is that I have lost my zest for life.

 Along with the zest went the naivete that I used to have.  I used to wander off with camera in hand and snap pictures and then come home and introduce you to a new friend, or moving scenery that I saw, or a place I found or an astounding bit of history that I discovered.  Not any more.  Now when I snap a picture, I am concerned with the light, the background, where this story will lead, how it will affect you, my  reader, and a myriad of other things.  Writing is now a job to do and not a pleasure.  Too much of it is scripted.  Do you know how long it has been since I have been up to Beulah to see Jan or John?  How long has it been since I just let go and said what I wanted to say?  I will tell you; too damn long!

So now I need a solution to the whole thing.  I could just shut the blog down, but I do not want to do that.  I still have things to say that I want to share with you, as my friends, so that is not really an option.  There are not enough hours in my day, but there does not seem to be any way out of that one.  God did it his way and I need to figure out how to live with that.   I seem to recall a wise man some where saying something about "Life is what happens while you are making plans."  That seems to be the crux of my problem.  Life is happening!  So maybe I should just do the living thing and kind of report on it as it happens!  Seems like that is what I used to do and it worked out pretty well.

So no more morality lessons.  No more crying in my beer.  I have a barbeque to attend this after noon and I am going to take my camera.  There will be kiddies there and a dog with three legs.  And Tim has a new phone and it has the Periodic Table which he will show me.  Maybe I can get my little sad sack (Tyler)  to take a picture of me all enthralled with Tim's presentation.  Or not.  and then I am going to come home and dazzle you with my new lease on life!  I am getting excited.  Right now I have to go hoe around the cukes and peppers.  Then I have to take a ton of pictures for ebay and get ready to head over to the cook out. 

So you all have a good one and I will be reporting in to you tomorrow!  Watch for me......

In the grand scheme of things, do I really matter?

Yesterday in one of my moments of reflection, I happened to think about a very vital person who is winding down his stay on earth.  This  man has been very active in the community, a very well respected man.  His eyes still twinkle when he talks, or at least most of the time.  And then I thought about my mother and how much knowledge she had.  I thought about her life and the sorrow she had endured and over come.  And I remembered grandma.  When a person releases their hold on life and the family and friends are left behind, it seems like an insurmountable task ahead to survive without that person.  When my brother died suddenly in a car crash, it was like a light went out in the world.  He was there with his laughing face and his winning ways.  He exuded life through every pore of his being.  And then he was no more.

I could not accept that.  It was inconceivable that he was dead.  He had a new son.  He had a wife.  He had found God.  He had everything to live for and yet his lifeless body was before me.  He did not move and he was cold.  He was my only brother and he was dead.  He was with my father.

This weekend is Memorial Day.  Memorial Day.  Like I need a day to remember all I have lost.  I visit the graves when I am near them.  Not my husband though.  He is here.  His marker is across town, but he is here.  I could not survive if he were not.  He was my life and his eyes were the clearest blue I have ever seen.  There is an advertisement that shows a woman, ready for bed, talking to someone.  She walks into the bedroom and the camera pans to an empty pillow.  She stops talking and shakes her head.  I wonder how many times I have lived that scene.  My very wise mother once told me that divorces are easy cause you have anger to keep you on track, but when you lose a partner they immediately take on sainthood and you only remember the good parts.  She was right.

For many years I would mourn the lost and think of the "what might have been" that had changed my life, but no more.  It has all been for a reason.  Every life and every death that has touched me has been very meaningful in one way or another. Now I can look back and see them all.  They live right in my peripheral vision and I can see them clearly.   I do not need to bring flowers.

I see my grandma with the sweetest smile and great grandma, so tall and regal.  Aunt Lola so stern.  Uncle Ray, the handsomest man in the whole world and his beautiful wife Beth.  I see Gary and what might have been;  Kenny and what was. I see my laughing Jake and Josephine with all her faults.  I see Gibby, Mark, Shirley, Marty, and a very, very long list of my friends who hold places on the AIDS Quilt and a very big piece of my heart.  I picture a tiny coffin when I was 15 and my sister lost her baby.  I see fallen leaders, assassins, and the list goes on and has no end.

But I see something else.  I see a future and I see myself being the one to go.  And that is my message to you today.  I am trying very hard to leave a legacy that will make all of you who know me proud.  So when my eyes are closed to open no more I want you to remember this....I lived as I lived.  My life made me the person you loved.  I have no regrets, no hard feelings.  I never met any one I did not like and I saw good in everyone.  I trusted my fellow man  and loved my God and I will be with him in Paradise.  I will watch the road for you and we are all going to have a glad reunion.  And one more thing, I think God plays Country Western on the loud speakers!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g2u_rEcWW8M&feature=related

I have unleashed a monster on the world!

First I should tell you that the SWM of long ago who broke my heart and left me disillusioned is now operating under my umbrella in a far different capacity than he was last summer.  We are now friends.  As such we do not discuss politics, race, religion, Fox News, rearing of children, the welfare state, immigration, Sarah Palin, cooking, tattoos, Harley Davidson, the price of silver, and a myriad of subjects which are dealt with on a need to deal basis.  We spend a lot of time in quiet meditation.  I see him a couple times a week and I am helping him get his life organized.  Can not get mine on track, but doing pretty good getting him lined out. 

As friends we have a lot more in common and seem to have developed a mutual respect that was missing before.  I have found that he is interested in gardening.  Small draw back here is that he now realizes he is old and does not have time to wait for this stuff to get big.  So he has planted two  6 foot evergreens.  When he wanted Pampas grass he assumed he could buy it 6 feet tall and was crushed to be presented with 6 inch starts.  Of course the 4 inch tomato plants were a real blow to his expectations.  But like a true city farmer he went along with the game.  Four tomato plants and 2 peppers along with 2 hills of Zucchini soon graced his back yard.  He recalled his mother building a tent with three sticks for the tomatoes and was a little disappointed to find that the tomatoes needed to be 3 feet taller to reach the sticks.  That and the walk ways he built between the plants proved a little too much for me.  I had to take a break.

Next I taught him the benefit of making a list of things that need to be done and told him how gratifying it is to complete a task and then check it off or draw a line through it.  He is very good at making the list.  Very, very good.  I taught him on Tuesday about the list and Wednesday he called to read me his list.  It is now up to 38 items.  Nothing is checked off because he does not have time to do anything since he has to water his garden and make his list!  I am worried he may starve to death since I did not see anything about food on the list.

Now, lest you think I am completely heartless, I do have a long range plan for the little fellow.  Next week he and I are going to venture off to the the Senior Center and he will be enrolling in computer classes and I think he may play Chess.  I  will have to put this plan in place as I go.  See I noticed when I had lunch with Phyllis that there seemed to be a plethora of women in the lunch room.  Now I know the drill here.  If I were to be so inclined as to actively seek male companionship I would put me on a pretty little frock and kind of sashay along the boulevard there and sort of smile with my eyes a little down cast and some big strong boy would fall in step.  So, I know the game the girls are playing, I just need to make him aware of the part he should be playing.  How the boy survived this long in the world of women unscathed is beyond me.

He does not have an inquiring mind at all.  I know this because he wanted me to help him clean his stove.  So the first step was to do the self cleaning oven thing.  We disconnected the smoke alarm and opened all the windows and I went home and he went to his garage.  The next day I returned.  The boy almost had a stroke when I pulled the oven door off the hinges.  Then when I pulled the drawer on the bottom of the stove out he was astounded.  He had used the stove for 7 years and did not know either of those things could happen.  But he now has a very clean stove with the skillets neatly tucked away.  So I am grooming him for the candlelight dinners that await him and some lucky lady in the not to distant future.  I know he can cook so that is an advantage.

So next week I will throw him to the wolves, so to speak.  He has very high morals and a naivete that I find rather amusing.  Course we know how many times I have been around the block and I do not try to sugar coat any of it.  He will make some woman a very good companion and we are both acutely aware that it is not me.  The boy plays Classical music in his garage and his venture on the wild side is a little light jazz.  And he reads books with big words and tiny print by people I have never heard of before.  Way out of my comfort zone, but that does not make him a bad person. 

Ah, but for every  Jack there is a Jill.  We know that.  We just have to find the right Jill.  It is an undertaking that he has not yet put on his list, but he will! Just  click on this to see what I have planned!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WR2FvrU-NIM



 

I missed my vacation and I rather hate that.

I had planned a little trip the second week of May, but that did not transpire.  I was going to pop on down to Hutchinson and see the sisters and friends and then off to Longton to check on the daughter and her family and then out to West Plains, Missouri to see what old Vi is up to, and finish it off in Kansas City.  From there I follow I 70 back to home.  But I calculated the gas for that little jaunt and had a second thought that beat hell out of that first thought.  Now my little Ford gets very good gas mileage, but $350 seemed a bit out of reason.  That is without ever spending a night in a motel, eating a meal between visits, or, God forbid, car trouble.

So I opted to stay home.  I decided that since I did not go on vacation, I would do some of the things I had been putting off for tomorrow.  You know, like clean that wretched closet, dig out the tin shed,  do a little landscaping.  I reasoned that since I did not go on vacation and I planned to that this was free time and would be designated as such. If I were on vacation I could not be home and since I was not home I would be thinking what I could do if I were, so since I was home I would do what I thought I would do if I were not here!  I hope you agree with me there!

But alas! The best laid plans always go awry.  The closet sets exactly as it was on May 1 with the exception that one of the overburdened shelves in my lotion making storage closet collapsed.  A bottle of Peppermint oil managed to break it's lid on the way down.  Result of that is that I am constantly craving a mint!  Just glad it was the Peppermint and not the Patchouli!

Oh, and somewhere along the line I misplace 2 sets of keys and a jacket.  The first set holds a car key,  and a friends house key.  The second set holds my wedding ring, lock box key, my bedroom  closet key, post office box key, and something else that I forgot.  I strongly suspect that when I find one jacket I will find all the stuff that is in the pockets.  Today I will go get another car key made so that should bring me closer to finding the whole mess.

I think gas may have come down 3 or 4 cents.  If that happens I may get to go somewhere.  Granted it will be an abbreviated trip, but a trip none the less.  But for now, I will be meeting a friend for breakfast this morning and then back home then this afternoon another friend needs a ride to the cancer center and life goes on.  I need you all to send me good thoughts on those keys and I think I can find them.  In the meantime it shall remain another bump in my little trip up that yellow brick road!

Have a good day!  And remember to smile, it makes people wonder what you have been up to! 

This is a sad little sight here.

You can not see the third duck in this picture, but he is there.  See the white one? That is the Runner duck. The black duck is just that, a black and white duck.  But if you look very carefully on the left side down toward the tail on the Runner duck, you can see a little gray bump.  That is the Mallard.  Now this Mallard had a history, I am here to tell you.  First I want to give you a bit of background.  When Bret was 7 years old I had a friend, Steven Flowers, who lived and worked up in the mountains on a working ranch.  He had a duck who had babies.  Bret was dinging me about baby ducks so Steven brought me 4 of them.  They were Polanders, which is the domestic version of a Mallard.  Rather then explain all this, I just call them Mallards. 
Quickly my flock grew to 8.  Then some one in Colorado Springs needed to get rid of 13 ducks.  That is where the Black and White ones came from.  Then Bret wanted geese so I bought 3 of them.  Two ganders and one hen.  Then the two ganders died, one at the hands or rather wings of  a mean Muscovy Drake and the other to a neurological disorder culminating in the neighbor man wringing its neck.  Then Bret got tired of everything feathered and guess what!  So did Lyn.  At this time I had 1 female African Gray goose and 21 ducks.  Lyn brought me 6 geese and 6 ducks.  Then the geese reproduced and I ended up with 9 geese. Then the ducks came through again and the grand total last summer stood at 36 ducks and 9 geese.  Then the foxes came to call. By mid summer I was at 23 ducks and then we had 3 baby geese.  We wintered over with the 23 ducks dwindling to 15. Geese stayed at 12.  This Spring the foxes  became a real problem.  I watched my flock dwindle by 3 and 4 a week until at last I knew where this was headed.  There were 3 ducks left when I took this picture.  The next morning there were just the two.  The Runner and the Mallard. I called Lyn and Tim and they took the last 2 ducks to Pueblo West.  Now I have none.  What had been so much enjoyment for 12 years was now a memory.  I have seen the foxes over a period of time this Spring.  One gray, one small gray and one very big and beautiful Red Fox.  And while I sat here wringing my hands and watching my little friends being picked off,  I did not realize I had a very good friend across the field that was helping me out.  I learned just the other day that a man behind me who shall remain nameless had shot 7 foxes this season.  Can you imagine how fast the ducks would have disappeared if he had not been on guard?  I want to thank him for his dilegence.
Now, I still have 12 geese.  After the ducks were gone I heard a terrible noise out back.  The dogs and I ran out the door as did Amanda and the neighbor man.  My 12 geese were huddled at the end of the garden and when they saw me they came toward me and were jabbering away.  I do not understand what they were saying but as this plays out I think I can figure it out.  I think the fox hopped over the fence thinking he would have supper and the geese can be very loud and intimidating.  I think he decided the free meals here at my house were over. I sure hope so.  I know it is too late for the ducks, but I got a couple geese setting.  I do not know if you realize just how vigilant a goose is in guarding it's eggs, and it's babies, but I would not want to cross a mother goose under any conditions, and the ganders are worse! 
So while I will miss my helpless little ducks and mourn their loss I shall carry on with the goose population.  I do not think I will keep geese much longer and when Goosie, who is the lone female that I started with many years ago, is too old to go on living I will take the whole lot of them to the sale barn and just let the weeds grow rampant on the back acre.  It was a fun ride while it lasted.

Have a gander at these cupboard doors!

Well I had done a very informative blog on these cupboard doors and these people, but I see that the whole thing was lost and now only the pictures have turned up.  So let me go back and do this again.  See up there on top, you see the old fashioned clothes pins.  Those cupboard doors are in the laundry room.  Doc thought it fitting that the clothes pins be in the laundry room.

Then in the kitchen the knives end up as drawer handles.  Forks and spoons are used as door openers, what ever you call them.  I think this is very clever and I hate that I just passed up a chance to buy a bunch of junk silverware.

I guess I should begin by introducing you to these fine people.  This is Doc and his lovely wife Lynn.  The fellow in the background telling me how to take pictures is Sherman, a friend of mine.  They were all friends when they lived in Denver.  Doc and Lynn moved to the fair city of Ordway away from the hustle and bustle of the big city upon retirement into a very lovely older home with all the accruments that they possess.  You know, the good stuff, like steam heat radiators, real wood woodwork, stair case,  big windows and kitchen cabinets in need of a paint job and new hardware.  That is when Lynn remembered seeing silverware used for that.  And Doc took off with the idea.  Aren't they clever?

This is the first time I met these people, but they made me feel most welcome.  I met Doc first in his garage.  Oh, a real piece of work there!  First thing I saw was the picture of Hank Williams on the wall.  Then Buddy Holly  and of course the autographed picture of Candy Clark that every member of the British Motorcycle Association in this area has as a right of passage.  The pictures and the old motorcycles were what made me know that he and I were going to be very good friends.  And then I met his wife and the deal was sealed.  She weaves and spins and quilts and has two big dogs and what more could I ask for?

Ordway is a small town and very friendly.  So her and I walked up to the hotel wherein is located "Gertie's"  which is a little cafe.  We had the special which was a bowl of soup and a chicken salad sandwich.  They can call that a bowl, but I call it a canister.  Bet there was a quart of soup in that bowl.  It was very good.  I was reluctant to leave them at all, but since they did not invite me to sleep over I thought I should ride back.  I am pretty sure this may be my first trip down there, but it will not be the last.  Well, as long as they let me come back.

Here Foxie, Foxie, Foxie...Wait, not here!

Well, excitement in the back yard tonight.  It is raining here a little.  Not enough to do any good, just enough to make me think I should have a coat on over my shorts and what was I thinking any way.  So it was just almost to think about getting evening and I thought I should take a stroll out back.  Well first thing I see is Icarus, the calico cat  over setting in the Llama pen.  She does not usually do that, but I thought what the hey.  Then I noticed the brown Llama was on high alert, so I scanned the horizon and saw nothing.  Then the brown and white Llama started running.  I still saw nothing so I started on out to the duck house. 

Lordy, about that time something shot past me and I seen the Fox about 6 feet away running and scaling the back fence right in front of me.  He ran into the alfalfa field about 25 feet and then just stopped and set down and he and I engaged in a staring match.  I never had an encounter like that before.  This was very strange, so I grabbed my trusty cell phone and dialed Bret up and told him to bring his rifle and come out back.  As luck would have it, across the field is several houses so the rifle was out of play at that point.   Bret picked up a few rocks and chucked them at him, but he just looked at us and some of them were close.  So since I was getting wet and cold I decided to come in out of the rain. 

I guess what bothered me most is that he usually comes from the West through the Llama pen and then crosses the fence going South into the alfalfa before he gets to my property.  This time he came from the North,  over my West fence and then over the back fence heading South.  And he looked very ragged.  Not like the sleek fox I have been seeing.  Unless, of course, this is a different fox.  Good grief!  I think I have solved the mystery.  Nothing wrong with my fox, just this is not my fox.  Wonder how many of those things I have around here?

Have to worry about that tomorrow cause I am falling asleep here!  Good night all.

Dolly wants a new black and white purse!

Ah, Dolly decided she wanted a new purse, so I told her I could most definitely accomadate her in that area as I had just finished making several new ones and I was sure one had her name on it!  Dolly and Jerry attend the same church that I attend, or I should say I attend their church since they were there a long time before I showed up on Sundays. It does not take long to figure out just what I do in my spare time, cause I am happy to share that news.  I am now making purses which I shall offer for sale on eBay, but my friends get first choice and they get a break on the price.  And let me tell you, this little Dolly is just that!  She is the sweetest little person I think I have ever laid eyes on and her husband, Jerry, is absolutely devoted to her as you shall see in the last picture on this post. 

So here is Jerry telling her, "Sure, honey, it that is the one you want, cost is not object.  What ever you want is what I want."  Or something along that line.  You should know that they very recently celebrated an anniversary that took my breathe away.  Seems like 65 years or something like that, but look at her!  She is not old enough to have been married that long.  She is just as fresh and dewy eyed as she can be.

.

We had discussed whether the handles were long enough since some women do like to hook thier purse on their shoulder.  I do, but I expect to look for a shoulder bag.  So Jerry, since he is the one who usually carries Dolly's purse decided to model it.  So he did and he pronounced that it was just about perfect.

And since the deal is struck, here I am getting a check for my wares.  Ah, everyone fared well on this little transaction, although I did rather hate to part with that purse as it was one of my personal favorites.   But  if it must go to a new home, I am sure it will be happy at Jerry and Dolly's house.  Besides, I will probably see it again next Sunday!

 

Do I have class? I do not think so.

I used to think I had class.  May not have been high class, but I could get by and fit in with almost anyone any where.  Now I have had occasion to rethink the whole class thing.  I was having coffee with a friend the other day when I first began thinking maybe I was not on the same level as he was.  Granted he came from Denver via San Francisco via Philadelphia, drives a Lexus and actually owns a camel hair jacket of some sort or another.  Maybe it was a blazer.  We were discussing a play he had seen and as I sat there I watched him as he described having gone to the theater.  Theater.  I had at one time watched a movie.  The fact that I could not recall what it was about when it was over should have been the first clue.  "Shall we go to the theater?" is a far cry from "Want to catch a movie?" or "There is a play at the Impossible Players tonight".   Theater denotes that I will be wearing a dress of some sort and will behave in a civilized manner.  Movie would be jeans and tennies.  Play means we are going to eat before we go!

Just as "dinner engagement" is the direct opposite of "What's for supper?"  so "Brunch" is to "early lunch or late breakfast."  As I sat there engaged in this one sided conversation, my mind began to slowly point out the differences in our two worlds.  He talks in a quiet, well enunciated, sedate voice.  If something is funny, he laughs softly or smiles to himself.  I am more middle of the road, well more clear the hell and gone over there in the ditch.  I have been known to throw my head back and laugh very loudly if something is funny.  That is not done in polite society.  I usually kick my shoes off at the front door.  He wears his even when he is home alone. His hands are very soft and white.  His nails are manicured.  My hands are calloused. The majority of my nails are out of the quick, and no two are the same length.  His hair is pulled back and I think he just got in from the stylist.  No two hairs in my head go the same direction.  He will open the door for me and all I have to do is stand  and smile at him, but I don't feel like playing the game today.  I am out of there.

Now I should make a note here that this was not our first cup of coffee.  We had, in fact been to lunch a couple times and gone for a drive in the mountains.  He seemed to have the sense of humor that is necessary to me.  He is financially secure,  which is also important.  This was not my first rodeo, but it may have been his.  Remember when I said I was going to do the dating thing this year?  Well, this was  a feeble attempt at getting started on that road.  So in my typical fashion I have interviewed and discarded one of the male species.  I have decided that since I really do not care if I have one in my life on a permanent basis that I can afford to be very picky.  I am just afraid that by being a woman who does not care if she has a man, it is like waving a red flag at one of them. 

So, while this particular SWM and I had several good days over a three week period together I fear that this is not the one for me.  Oh, I fully intend to "see" him on occasion and we will talk on the phone from time to time.  He is a very interesting man, but way out of my comfort level for someone I want to introduce to my kids.  I am pretty sure he is not the one that will bait my hook when we go fishing, if we were to go fishing.  Doesn't strike me as anyone who could gut a fish either.  Although in all fairness he did listen attentively while I described the process to him.  I know he was attentive, because he did not blink one time.  Course shock has much the same reaction.  Hmmmmmmmmmmm?

So back to the drawing board for the dating thing. 

Welcome to ColorSplash Paintball

Well, hello there!  And welcome to Color Splash Paintball. This is the store front located at 1813 Santa Fe Drive in Pueblo, Colorado .  Phone number is 719-544-1560, in case you need that.  So why are we here?  I have a few friends who do not understand the whole paintball concept, so I am here to give you a crash course.

Well, first I got to tell you that this is the brain child of my oldest step daughter.  Jackie Chacanaca is going to make money one way or the other.  When her husband bought his first Harley, I bought Harley stock.  When her husband and son started playing paintball, she was doing day care and trying to figure out how to buy paint and guns cheaper.  Ah, be a dealer.  So the garage was no longer for cars, it was for stock.  Now first you should know what a paint ball gun is.  It is not a gun and is not called a gun.  It is a marker.  The whole idea is to put colored balls of paint in a hopper and shoot each other thereby turning your enemy pink, green or some other color.  Oh, and the paint balls are pretty tough so when you get hit it really hurts.  But that is one of the fun parts of the game.  Bret used to come home with big bruises but he decided early that he did not like pain all that much.

So it was not long before Jackie had outgrown the garage with her business, so she moved up on the highway into a shopping center store front.  She gave up the day care thing when that move happened.  Then she found that people really wanted to play in tournaments and there was money to be made there so she needed a field.  Ah, a field.  No doubt you wonder what that is.  It is a field.  Only it has lots of parts to it.  There is a scenario area where there are hiding places and a fort and they can play war games.  There is a place for speed ball and hyper ball and who knows what all.  All the area's have referees to make sure all the rules are followed and there are lots of rules.  Gotta wear goggles and protective head gear.  If you think the kids have fun you should be on hand when the Army shows up to "play". 

Used to be paint ball was for kids, but now I find that it is a high dollar past time for lots of the big boys.  The markers do not come cheap, but if you want to check in at the field for a day of fun (?) and frolic Jackie or one of the guys will outfit you with face mask, goggles, marker, air (to power the marker ) and paint and you are good to go.  Now can you think of a better way to spend the day than having a bunch of goons chasing you and shooting you with something that is going to break when it hits your tender skin and spray paint all over you?  There are a lot of grown men partaking of this particular amusement even as we speak.

And above we have some  canisters that hold compressed air which powers the marker. A marker will cost from $200 - $1200. And below you see an assortment of markers on the wall.  I  think Jackie's guns come with a lifetime service contract, but I could be wrong. I do not like pain.  I do not like playing in the dirt, and air conditioning is really great in the summer.  So I do not spend my money at Jackie's!

OK, I found a link for you down below this picture.  I am sure you will be wiser when you have gone there and read about a few things, but as for me, I am going to bed and only dream about things like this!

 

Fun at Jackies!

(Click above)



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!

It is official, my life is in the crapper, again.

Yep!  I am once more drowning in a sea of "what in the world was I thinking!"  My little life usually goes along on an even keel; some times I win, some times I lose, and all is well, because it is life.  I am busy most, if not all of the time, but I do take time to smell the roses.  Life is good as I stand here like a deer in the headlights and watch the last little bit of freedom I know disappear under a pile of eBay items that need to be listed, quilts that need quilted, thread that needs spun and woven, garden that needs tilled, hats that need embroidered, meals that need cooked, dogs that need petted, and friends that "need to talk".

I have never learned to say no.  It is a word that is completely forgien to my vocabulary.  I have not learned the art of sitting quietly and watching a movie, reading a book, or just contemplating my navel. Lyn and I planned our vacation yesterday.  At least we picked the dates.  She, of course, had to give me the lecture about how this time "You will relax and not be heading for home the next day."  She knows me and I thank her for trying and maybe this time it will work. 

Now, this all sounds good, but this is something that throws me into a tail spin.  We started talking about this a couple weeks ago and the cloud of dread slowly floated over my head and began to settle on my shoulders.  With the cloud of dread came the depression that creeps in at times of dire stress in my life.  So, I bit the bullet and the dates are set.

Do not misunderstand me here, I love to go back home and see the kids, grand kids, sisters, cousins, friends (Hi, Joe!), and just chill.  I love to eat at Skaets.  Kansas City is always a treat with Shirley fussing over us.  I love to drive and take pictures and every moment I am on my vacation, I count the moments until I can get back home.  I can not relax.  I can not remember the last time I just let go and relaxed.  You know, the one where you lay on a hill and watch a cloud float past, or set on a creek bank and wait for that old cat fish to bite?  When I am back there I think how great it would be to live there.  You know, just pick up and move back.  It all sounds so simple; just move.

But with home comes memories and with memories comes sadness.  Sadness for a life that could have been; a life that should have been.  Dreams of a little country home and a picket fence and kids in the yard and a puppy barking at the cat.  And with sadness comes depression.  And with depression comes memories and the cycle starts all over again.  If I could go back and make the choices I should have made, who would I be today?  But, I can not do that, can I?  With age comes wisdom, or so they say.  With age comes hopelessness and dread.  I had one shot at this life and I think I may have screwed it up.  Deer in the head lights!

So this is Holy Week.  I take consolation in that.  I also take consolation in the fact that only a few of my friends and family read this, so they will not know how nuts I actually am.  So maybe some one out there can flip my switch and tell me how I can salvage what is left?  Some one sent me an email the other day, which I read in my typical every other line fashion, but I think I got the gist. 

Lord, help me when I complain about having to fix supper, to remember those who have no food.  When I complain about the cost of gas, help me be thankful that I have a car and can get around.  When I complain about having to clean house, help me be thankful that I have a home.  When I complain about the long walk to the duck house, help me be thankful that I can walk, and see, and feel.  And when I am antsy because a friend drops by to take me from my chores, be thankful that I have friends.  Amen

There!  I might have solved my problems.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DRoVH5u9Qk8&feature=related

This is a little family in the making, if you wonder what one looks like.

If you wonder what the life of Riley looks like, just take a gander at this little chickadee, all kicked back and taking it easy. 

 Now here we go just having a little peek at Grandma Lou.  This is the little angel that Grand Daughter Deven chose to weave a blanket and give it to her for Christmas.

And there she is hid behind all the toys that it is necessary for a tiny baby to tote around just to get through the day. 

And there is mom and soon to be dad.  I just wanted you to meet them.  I emailed her for the correct spellings on the names, but have not gotten an answer yet.  As soon as I get that I will formally introduce you to this little family who is slowly becoming a vital part of my life here in Pueblo. 

I do know the mom is Kimmie and her favorite food is Sloppy Joes!  I do know she is working on getting her Diploma and then going to school to make herself into something the Little Princess will be very proud of, and so will we!  Going to be there to see her walk up and grab that diploma and make us all proud!

Watch for them more in future postings!

Five words no mother wants to hear, ever.

Always in my mind, the 5 words I never wanted to hear were, "There has been an accident."  I heard them years ago when I lost my brother.  And then I heard them yesterday.  They held the same paralyzing fear yesterday as they did back in 1965.  Only this time I heard them through my mother's ears and there were other words, motorcycle, son, ambulance.  Each word was tearing me apart and I had to pull into a parking lot to make sense of them.

Lou, this is Carolyn and I was on my way to town and there has been an accident.  Bret, Amanda, motorcycle, Cruiser, ......."I need to know which hospital you want him transported to.  They will want to know."  A million questions rushed through my mind, but I asked none.  She had no answers, so it was not fair to ask.  My first instinct was to race to Santa Fe Drive to the scene, but a cooler head prevailed.  I would go to the hospital and wait.  So I did.  I left my car with the valet and went immediately to the ER.  No ambulance yet.

I would call my minister.  Phone book was in the car.  So I called the church.  Answering machine.  In case of emergency call.....my pen was in the car.  Why is it that we delude ourselves into believing we are organized right up until the moment when we need to lay our hands on information and we find we are like Babes in the woods.  I knew I should call some one, but I did not know who.  Oh, wait.  He has sisters, I have kids!  But what would I tell them?  What did I know?  Motorcycle, son, ambulance.

So, Lou Mercer, the woman with so many friends stood in an empty emergency room staring out a window all by herself, the loneliest woman in the world.  And like so many mothers before me I turned to the one person who could and would listen.  I had never faced anything like this with any of my children before, but yesterday I did and yesterday I remembered why I had spent my whole life clinging to this man.  So I called on him,  "Oh, God!  I know I am always wanting something, but this time I really, really need you to do this for me.  Make it right.  Make this go away and if you choose not to do that then give me the strength to deal with what I must."  I am sure there was a lot more said and I bet I made promises, but God knows me pretty good.  We have been there before and while some of his greatest gifts were unanswered prayers, I knew in the depths of my being that he would answer this one.

It was orchestrated from the beginning when a friend came upon the accident and she chose to call me instead of letting the sheriff call, and she was allowed to call.  Things always come easier when delivered by a friend.  I want to thank her for doing me that favor.  I will not use her last name, but she know who she is and she also knows that I loved her when she was my daughter in law and I love her today, because she is a beautiful person.

So, as you have guessed by now, little Bret is alright.  He is alright because all the things that usually happened did not.  The speed limit there where this happened is 50MPH but it was moving slow.  Amanda saw a wreck ahead so she slowed down and changed lanes.  Bret passed her and then he saw the accident so he cut in front of her and slowed.  Some one ahead hit the brakes, Bret hit his brakes and Amanda hit hers.  She hit the back of the bike which shot out from under Bret.  All speeds were reduced or the boy on the bike would not be here today.

Later Bret was recounting the accident and he said " I seen Amanda coming behind me and I knew she was going to hit me, but I had to brake."  I asked him, "Did you at that point in time wish you might have been a little nicer to her?"  His answer was, "Oh, yeah!"

So today we are getting through the "what if " phase of this.  Will he ride his bike again?  Sure!  Will he wear a helmet next time?  No!  I never wore one.  It restricted my vision and my hearing.  On long trips I guess they are all right.  Will Amanda drive again.  Sure!  I hauled her to work today, but that is not going to happen again.  Things happen.  Life goes on.  What will I do different?  Keep a phone list in my purse or make sure all the important numbers are in my phone.  But the most important number is burned in my brain and that is the hot line to Heaven.  And the best part is that no matter where I am, it is still a local call!

Hey! Wait just one minute here!

This is not fair!  No way is this a fair thing to happen to me!  Yesterday it was 70+ degrees.  Day before that it hit 80.  Now  this morning there is snow.  Stop this madness.  It is Spring.  The Daffodils are blooming and everything!  The ducks are mating as are the geese. Now I have Robins playing in the snow.  What is wrong with this scenario?

Oh, yeah, now I remember, I live in Colorado!  Beautiful Colorado in the foothills to the Rockie Mountains.  Kenneth and I were on our way to a place near Durango many years ago to get a load of coal for some one.  Being the end of May and hotter than the dickens, I wore my shorts and we did not bother taking a coat.  The first problem we encountered was that the pass had the chain law in effect.  Usually we called and checked things like that, but rarely, if ever do you worry about it when it is 80 degrees.  Course there is that little altitude thing we should have thought about.  A lesson learned, but not retained, although we did make it a habit to carry chains and coats no matter where we went or when we went.

See, I should have known when I met that man what I was in for.  Before we ever did the "I do" thing in front of the minister in the assisted living center in Canon City and had a celebratory doughnut as our wedding supper, there were signs of the future.  Take for instance, the weekend camp out and boating trip the weekend AFTER Labor Day. 

We loaded the camper shell, boat, fishing tackle, lots of food, camp stove, two kids and my poodle/chihuahua, Sysnyck  and headed for Turquoise Lake, about as high up as you can get without going clear to heaven.  It was late when we got there so we immediately pitched the tent and went to bed.  It immediately began to rain.  The bathrooms were locked up, being after Labor Day and all, but it was a big forest.  Morning broke to show a beautiful view of the lake, ice floes and all.  Fuel had leaked out of the camp stove.  Kids were wet and frozen.  My bottom  and the forest floor did not take to well to each other.  But we had come to boat and fish and by jeepers that was what we would do.  And did it we did.

The worms were frozen, but the boat was not.  We boarded the seaworthy vessel and cranked it up;  fishing poles remained on the bank.  My stalwart Captain roared away from the dock, the dog jumped overboard, the daughter burst out in tears because she was going to die.  He idled, turned  around and picked up the dog and headed back to shore.  We arrived home early that afternoon and it was again 80 degrees, but we were still frozen.

The year on that was 1982.  Perhaps you recall that being the year there was a sudden spike in antibiotic sales?  Both kids had raging fevers the next day.  I am a firm believer that such things are brought on by a virus and not getting cold and wet, but I did make an exception in that case.

The following summer, July 4 weekend to be exact, we took a 3 day weekend, same boat, vacation to the high lakes in the Rockies.  Kids refused to step foot off the place after the first vacation.  When we got home I was so sunburned I had to sleep standing up.  Not really, but it was bad!  So I now know, but still occasionally forget what Colorado is all about.  Check my car.  I have blankets, coats, sunscreen, water, an emergency stable food source, and my Bible.  I am taking no chances. 

The kids are grown up and gone.  Kenny has passed to his much deserved  reward and I am here alone.  I do still go to the mountains, but only for the day.  I go with a friend or sometimes just drive up to Beulah to see my friend Jan.  So I stay in Colorado.  It has become home to me and I expect when I close my eyes and see Kenny coming to pick me up, his silhouette will be against the back drop of Pikes Peak or Turquoise Lake or something else quite as beautiful.  When that happens I will not look back.  And I expect you all to be happy and wish me bon voyage!  Cause I will be tripping the light fantastic with a man who never had a lick of rythym any where near his body, but he could catch a fish.

I saw a sign........

Men who beat their guns into plow shares, will be ruled by men who did not beat their guns into plow shares....(Or something like that!)  Thomas Jefferson.

Dougie Do and Elvira too!

Last Wednesday I had a date.  Well, Elvira and I did.  We had a date with Doug Poll who owns Doug's Grooming Salon.  What a delightful little fellow he is!  Elvira loves him.  See her there in his arms and see him kiss her.  Hard to believe that I have to take second place to a dog, but there you have it.   If I have to share the fellow, I am glad it is with my dog.

Elvira does not really like to go to the beauty shop, but she loves to go see Doug.   Flips me a look and off to the back room she goes.  Don't blame her for that.  When she comes back out she is going to be one pretty little girl! 

My first encounter with Doug was back in December.  My son's boss had been taking Cosmo to Doug for several years so I thought I ought to give him a try.  He is located at 2320 Thatcher here in Pueblo.  For many years I had lived right around the corner on Scranton, but moved to the Mesa before Doug started there.  But stranger yet, is that he started Doug's Grooming in that location on October 1, 1987!  Know what that is?  October 1 is my birthday!  Small world huh?

Want to get smaller?  His birthday is October 6.  I am not going to tell you the years cause I for one, am a tad bit vain!  Suffice it to say I am several years older then him.  What that has to do with anything, I have no idea!  But let me tell you this, I have always had a dog of some sort that had to be groomed so I am fairly wise to the groomers and how the doggie relates to them.

Take Elvira.  Lady groomed her here at the house.  The little rat ran away, jumped off the dryer, and almost ended up completely bald on one side.  She is definitely a dog that needs a groomer with a firm hand.  Doug has that.  I do not stay to watch the process, but I know that this drop dead gorgeous little groomer will take her in hand and I get almost all the way home and he calls to say she is done.  So I go back to get her and Doug is holding her and look at how he smooches around on her.

Doug has 2 favorite charities.  The first is Multiple Sclerosis and the other is the Susan Komen Breast Cancer Foundation.   Can't fault a boy that supports causes like those!  And businesses in this fair city do not usually open until 9 or 9:30.  Not Dougie!  I can drop the dog off at 7:30.  Most people are not usually up that early, but he has his day pretty well started by then.

What I like best about Doug is that he is always such a happy little guy and always glad to see me.  Well, glad to see anyone.  And I am a firm believer that animals have a sixth sense about people.  The dogs all seem to like Doug, which means he is a good person deep down where it really counts.  If Elvira were to drag her feet and act like she did not want to go, you can bet I would be looking for a different groomer.  But she is always happy to go, so we have found a home with Doug.

My recommendation to you, if you have a poochie dog, is to grab up the phone and call Doug at 719-545-7300.  You are going to have to wait on your first appointment because he is in high demand.  But then you make your appointment when you pick the dog up and you are in like Flynn.  Just be prepared to take a back seat to your dog.  Doug and the dog will want to get to know each other.  That is the way of the world.

All creatures great and small, the Lord God made them all....or something like that.  ;)

A sad state of affairs.

   See this wretched looking pooch here?  This was taken at the dog pound about a year or two ago.  The tech out there thought this dog was about 2 1/2 years old, female, Llaso Apso/Shitzu, and had just had puppies.  She was very matted and her hair was falling out.  Sad little species.  I brought her home and named her Elvira, Mistress of the night.

See this little wretch here?  This is her prison picture.  Probably should have named this one Bandit, but we named her Daisy.  Daisy is probably about six now and is the old lady of the bunch.  Elvira is about 4.  I always get my dogs at the pound because I know they need homes and I have a home.  Cool, huh?

              

 Now this is Lyn.  I did not get her at the pound.  She is my friend.  She is also the one who just gave little Elvira her bath and trimmed her hair.  Doesn't she look pretty?  I actually meant Elvira, but that goes for Lyn also.  Course Daisy wanted held also.  It is hard to imagine those two healthy looking pooches were once on their way to the execution chamber.  But now they are mine!

Now, you know there is going to be a point to this, don't you?  And here it comes.  I had to run into town to have lunch with a friend today.  Would rather have stayed home, but you know how it is some times.  So I zipped up South Road, which I have got to quit doing as the boy got a ticket for speeding and I don't want one.  But I then turned on Aspen headed for town.  In the middle of the road was a big black Lab.  Probably not full blooded Lab, but a big dog.

Oh, he was alright, but he was on a mission.  He was smack in the middle of the road and he was plodding his way toward town.  He did not have a collar.  He did not look happy at all.  He looked like what we see all to often out here in the county.  He looked like some one had driven him out and dumped him because they were, for what ever reason, no longer wanting to care for him.  So some one loaded him up and dropped him out in the middle of nowhere hoping what would happen?

Was it you?  Did you think he would just drop in some farmhouse and live happily ever after?  Most farms out here already have  dog or 2.  Maybe a cat.  These animals see the new dog as an interloper and chase it away.  Or, gee, maybe it could find some where to sleep and catch  mice or something to eat during the day.  It is a trained hunter?  I think not.  The dog I saw walking up Aspen was not a happy dog.  He looked like he was looking for you.  You are all he knew and you left him, quite by accident, I am sure, and he was just wanting to get home to you.  You may not have been the best master, but you were his and he remembers that. Probably a moot point as he was only about a mile from the highway.  You know, the one where cars drive 50 miles an hour through Blende and never think to watch for dogs looking for their masters.

We have a new dog pound.  Why didn't you just drop him off there?  At least that way he could have something to eat.  He could have some where to sleep where he felt safe.  He would have at least had a chance at being adopted.  And if he did not get a new home the worst that could happen is he would be euthanized.  At least that is a lot quicker then being hit by a car or starving out on the prairie.

I wish there were some way to make you people understand that the cute little puppy you bring home is dependent on you.  Even when it grows up and isn't so cute, it is your responsibility.  You picked, you played with it, and it is yours until one of you dies.  When I see a dog dumped like this I wonder what kind of people we are dealing with now days.  What kind of Father will you make?  What kind of mother?  The fields and the prairies are for the animals of the night, you know, coyotes, foxes, skunks, snakes, spiders.  That sort of stuff, not domesticated dogs.  Dogs we have bred and trained to be docile little creatures. 

I had a short lunch and when I came home I looked for the black dog.  Don't know what I had planned if I found it, but I did not see it.  I am sure I will be thinking about it tonight when I should be sleeping.  And I hope you are thinking about it also.  I hope you realize what a stupid thing this was and I hope you at least regret your decision.  It is my fervent hope that you spend a lot of sleepless night and then one day, look up out of what ever gutter you are in and see your beautiful black dog ride by in the back of a mini van with a little girl hanging on his neck, with his tongue hanging out and a big smile on his face!

Always remember "When you dance, you got to pay the fiddler. " or "What goes around, comes around."