Well, let's start up a community garden. Want to?

I have often heard of Community Gardens and when SCAP was located on 4th and Glendale right next door to the Liquor Store and the Porn shop before the police took the building for their substation, we had one.  It was really nice.  Some one tilled the area and one of the places, Lowe's I think, donated a bunch of plants. The clients would come by and water and weed and then later pick the harvest.  We all got a kick out of it and it kept them in touch with nature.  But now we are located in the Corona building and all we have is concrete and asphalt.  Enter a stranger on a Suzuki motorcycle who stands 6'7" and a Community Garden appears on the horizon.
Meet Richard.  We have a mutual friend and I found him one Sunday morning digging around in the dirt.  Well, you know me.  Nobody gets away with anything on my watch and it just looked suspicious to see this big tall guy digging in my friends yard. Nobody ever comes and digs in my yard.  So I asked my friend, "What is going on over there?"  And he told me.  So I got his number and set out on my quest for knowledge.  Soon you will know all that I know.
Richard is new to this business, but he knows what he wants to do.  He has this garden and another at his house.  His vision is to grow organic food and produce enough to feed 400 people.  And here is where it gets a little hairy.  A community garden is a community effort.  We all know that.  This is his first venture into this and this first year will entail putting a lot of ground work into place.  He has made a wish list and it seems fairly simple. So we will lay it out and look at it and see if this is feasible.
1.  He needs manure preferably Rabbit, Poultry, Cow or Horse.  Now he knows that most people raising animals give them antibotics.  These should leech out in a year or so.  He will check to see how that plays out with the people who certify the stuff to be organic.
2.  Compost.  Any chance you have a pile of that laying around that you do not use and do not need?
3.  He is going to need a tiller.  He would prefer to do this with a horse and plow, but he has no harness for the horse.  Got any of that laying around?
4.  Now hauling is going to be a problem unless he has a pick up.  He is willing to trade his bike for a small pickup preferably a Toyota or Nissan.  At least I think that is what he said.  So, if you happen to have one of those setting in the drive, let me know.

I do not know Richard very well, but from the two brief visits I had with him I found him to be very personable and very caring about the environment.  That carries a lot of weight with me.  We discussed politics briefly and I am not sure which of us is the more radical, but I do not know what that has to do with growing a watermelon, which I will depend on him to grow because I done lost my package of seeds!

So if any of you out there have any of the items he needs, suggestions that could possibly help Richard, or an idea on how to proceed with this venture,  please leave a comment or email me and I will see that he gets the information.  He is just kind of between computers at the present time.

Off to Beulah today all by my tiny little self!

Well enjoy that little slide show up there. It shows the trip to Beulah, to the coffee shop, next door to Kris Allen's house , the book exchange/library, around back of John Clay's studio and then back home again. I will hit the high spots later.

See the two signs there! That is a really big event coming up July 16 and if any of you old Hippies want to go with me, just give me a holler. There are a few little tiny rules Jan said us rowdy old souls need to obey, but I already forgot what they were so they could not have been too important. I think this might be more fun than this old heart can take.

So, back to my trip up this morning. Since I had to go water plants on that side of town, I thought "What the Hey!" and I just headed on out the highway and up the road. I left the camera in the back seat since I was all alone and thought it best if I kept eyes forward. But silly me. This is the entrance to the Beulah Valley which is the whole reason for life in Colorado. I stopped on the way back and took this and it does not do it justice at all. You can not see the depth and vastness that always make my heart leap into my throat when I see this.
(Sorry that image is not there, but google is jacking with me today.Maybe later)
I had just come past an empty field and seen a lone antelope. How sad a sight is that to see one antelope in the middle of all this vastness. I know the herd was nearby, or at least I thought so. There is just something about this part of the drive that makes me feel so very small and insignificant. I guess it is just the majesty of the mighty Rockie Mountains. They have been here since time began, I think, and I am just passing through. It is always a humbling experience.

And I am always so happy to see the little Stompin' Grounds sign and to know that Jan will be very glad to see me. I do not remember when I was up there last, but it had been a while. And she did not disappoint me.

She fixed me an egg sandwich and a cup of coffee, both great. She showed me that she was about out of products that I sell up there so I made a solemn vow to do better. I told her the latest John Lennon jokes I knew and showed her snippets I had on the camera of an upcoming blog I am working on.

Then Tom came in and I was happy to see him! See in this small little world, Tom and I go back a very long ways. He was a sailor at Hutchinson Naval Air Station in Kansas when I was in high school in Nickerson. Now we are both pretty sure we never dated, but we do not know for sure, and have no idea who to ask so we just b....s... everytime we cross paths. Now I could pop his balloon, but I am not going to. See we are both free spirited liberals and those guys are hard to find, but the truth of the matter is I never dated anyone from the base when I was in high school. I never dated anyone period. The first man I dated I married and it was down hill from there. But Tom is happy thinking we are the same age so I am not going to tell him any different.
Then a lady named Janet came in and was all excited to meet me cause she was one of those needing lotion. I will get up there next week cause why take a chance on losing a devoted customer? I wandered outside and heard Kris Allen out on her porch with her mom and Scott, so I popped over for a short visit. I will see them again at the Nature Center on Sunday.

By this time I had received 2 phone calls reminding me of obligations I had at home, so I reluctantly left the coffee shop, but I had one more stop to make. John Clay's studio. You remember he is the wood carver who also carves stone. I had not warned him that I was coming so I was not surprised to find him gone. I did wander around the yard and see some things he was working on. I was especially happy to see that he has not given up on the Dragon's Nest. He will get it done someday, I am sure. (Sorry I missed you John!)

So home to Pueblo and stop at Grocery Warehouse for yeast for an order of gluten free bread. Life does go on and it does get tedious. But I did make a vow to myself that I will be sure that I make it up to Beulah at least twice a month this summer. Jan is such a lovely person and when you stop in there you damn well better tell her Lou sent you! She is going to paint me a purple flower around the light in the ceiling right before you go down the hall to that infamous refrigerator of hers! I love that girl!

The featured artist today is my good friend Robert.

I want you to enjoy the slide show of just a few pictures that I took at the Nature Center today.  I also snapped pictures of a few memorials out there of people I knew.  Karen Straight, Jay Battle and my very good friend Craig Harmon.  I think that is so neat the way they have worked those into the wild flower gardens out there.  
But here, I want you to take a good look at these to pictures.  They were commissioned by Anna Lee and drawn by Robert.  Robert has been drawing and painting for several years now.  Anna Lee usually tries to snatch them up before anyone else has a chance to even bid.  The other one she has is a picture of his cat Beau, or Bo or Bow.  I guess I do not know how he spells it.  I wanted to put a picture of Robert with his paintings, but for reasons known only to me, I did not.  I guess Robert is some one I do not want spoiled by the trappings of the spotlight of fame.  He is just simply, my Robert and I hope to keep him that way.

One of these he calls the running duck, but I am not sure which one.  Probably the one with the blue back ground.  It just kind of looks like a running duck to me!

Well, I guess that is about it.  I just wanted to share some of this with you.  The river is up very high. Usually lower, but I guess we are letting our snow melt out to the people who actually own it.  I am not sure I understand, but who am I?  I do know this, there is a beautiful moon out there tonight and I am tired so I am going to call it an early night and put the tired little body to bed and dream some big dreams.  Sweet dreams to you!

This is just a heads up!

This is just to alert you to a blog I will be posting sometime in the next week.  I have met a most interesting fellow.  Two things you should know.  He is running a couple community gardens that are completly organic.  That is one.

The other is he is 6' 7" tall.  I told him, "You are really tall!"  and he told me "Lou, I am not really tall, you are just really, really good at being short!"

This is going to be one interesting fellow, I can almost tell.  Organic has always been a passion of mine.  Now if he can give me an organic way to remove Icarus's friend, the mouse, from my kitchen I think we may end up very best friends! 

So, stay alert, but give me about a week on this.  He is a busy man and I am a busy woman and we must remember he is up there where the oxygen is thinner!

Migrant Bags and the Migrant Education Program.

 
 

Know what those pictures right above here are?  This is the foyer of the First Baptist Church, 405 W. 9th Street,  here in Pueblo, Colorado.  These were taken Friday, June 3, 2011 in the foyer.  Now, I know it looks like a lot of trash bags there, but it is not.  This represents a labor of love by the Church Women United here in this fair city.  What is it?  It is growing season and the migrant workers are back!  With the migrant workers comes the migrant families which includes children.
These are what are called "hygiene bags".  Each one of these bags has been sewn to specifications by some one and then filled with a towel, wash cloth, bar of soap, comb, toothbrush and toothpaste.  Way back in 1967 it seems our country ran short of workers for our fields so our federal government, in their infinite wisdom,  made a deal with Mexico.  Send your families to work our fields and we will educate your children.  I will give you a link at the end so you can read up on this.
See, I thought our church did this just cause we were kind, but I finally actually listened this time.  This education program is funded by the federal government under the "No Child Left Behind Act" and is administered under the auspices of BOCES which is the acronym for Boards of Cooperative Educational Services.  This covers children ages 3-21 who are not graduated from high school.  They must be temporary or seasonal and changed districts in the last 3 years.
That is background that you can pursue, what I am here to tell you is that pile of bags up there represents 497 acts of love by 14 churches here in Pueblo.  Our women's group is the only one in Colorado that participates.  When the migrants show up at BOCES, the first question is "Where are the bags from the church ladies?"  Our reputation precedes us! BOCES runs the educational part of the program and Sister (Nameless) runs the social aspect of the migrant population.  It is at her center that the doctors volunteer their time, the bags of beans, rice and flour are passed out.  Their are diapers for the babies, computers for research and communication.  Clothes are donated and dispersed to those in need.  No money changes hands, it is all voluntary and is the one oasis in a sea of need.
I do have to tell you a little story here.  In 1978 (?) when I was newly divorced and on my own out here, my daughter came home from North Carolina with her hubby and her son.  My daughters, Patty and Dona, came up from Lakin.  Harvest on the Mesa was in full swing and this looked like an easy way to make money quick.  So Patty and Tex hopped in the old '67 Chevy which was my sole means of transportation at the time and headed for the Mesa.  8 hours later they made it back home.  They were filthy, Patty's eye was blood shot and Tex was 3 inches shorter than when they left.  Seemed their job was to pick peas.  This entailed bending over and picking peas and pulling weeds as they came to them.  Tex threw his weeds over his shoulder into Patty's eye.  Hmm.  Wages for the day was $7.20 for the two of them.  Good thing I had bought the gas for the car.
The next week they decided that they would do this again.  It was onion topping time.  This time Debbie, Patty, Dona and Tex ventured to the onion fields.  First day was a total loss as I had to buy the "onion topper cutter things" for all 4 of them.  The next day would bring me a return on my investment, so I thought.  The next day dawned and when they came home, the side of the '67
Chevy was caved in, two of the girls had black eyes and it seems that they were not to return to the fields as they were trouble makers.  I, of course, got a different story, but suffice it to say, I decided all by my tiny little self that my children were not cut out to be migrant workers.
I do however, take my hat off in a big salute to those people who do work our fields.  I would not be able to stand in one of those fields under the blazing sun for any length of time, not to mention a full day bent over up and down the rows.  There just is not that much money in the bank if you get my drift.
Well, I did a definite digression from the main topic.  So let me just get some links on here and you can educate yourself.  I was amazed at the rich history the "farm workers" have in this country.  And, yes, I did read " The Grapes of Wrath."

http://www.scboces.k12.co.us/english/Migrant/index.htm


http://coloradoboces.org/modules/cms/pages.phtml?pageid=144069&sessionid=67a54164cc99a94667d6381b97409394

Clothing optional?

Granted I have been married 5 or 6 times, depending on whether I choose to  count that one guy twice, but that does not make me a woman of the world.  To be real honest with you here, I am just more than a little bit naive.  I tend to take life as it comes at me and I am unaware of the subtleties  that are sometimes quite apparent to other more wizened members of society.  Such was my experience of a couple weeks ago which is now earning me lots of teasing  and sly remarks that I think are entirely uncalled for in my humble opinion.
Now, how this chain of events occured is going to remain a mystery to some of you as I do not want to compromise the actual participants.  It could be just a bit embarrassing to people other than myself, so just deal with this as best you can.
You all know that I am always one to lend a helping hand when it is needed.  Enter an acquaintance who was having car trouble and he needed a ride up the road a ways to keep his appointment at the mineral spa.  In hindsight, I can see where there should have been a warning flag pop up about then, but naive little Lou, did not even batt an eyelash on that.  So off we went in my little car, headed  West.  Very soon we arrived at the spa.  Funny, I always pictured a "spa" as a kind of fancy place as opposed to this which seemed to be a pool inside a privacy fence, but since I had never seen one, it was not my  judgement call.
We entered a sort of rustic looking building and he signed in.  There were chairs kind of off to one side so I assumed that was the waiting area.  So I set myself down and took stock of my situation.  I seemed to be the only person in this area although I could hear voices and it sounded like water splashing.  I decided there definitely was a pool behind the fence.  So that made sense.  I picked up a brochure and started reading about the pool and how warm the water was all year long and how beneficial the minerals were.  And way back in the recesses of my mind, a wee tiny memory started to tug at my subconscious.  What was it?  Something.
Like a lamb to slaughter, I  stood and walked to the front door and gazed across the yard at the pool area.  Of course the waiting area I was in was higher than the fence that screened the people in the pool from view.  Of course they were protected from anyone on ground level, but I was not on ground level. Then the little memory that was tugging gave a big jerk and I glanced at the brochure in my hand.  "Clothing Optional".  Of course it was!  How else would you explain that big naked guy that had just crossed my field of vision?  The one thing I was sure was that it was a man and I certainly hoped it was not the one I had just hauled up there.  But if it was, I would never know it and if it became necessary, I would fix his car myself, so this would not be a repeat trip up here.

I did survive that trip and if I had the common sense God gave a goose, I would not have told anyone about that little experience, but I don't and I did and now it is one of the little slings and arrows I must survive.  "Guess where Lou hangs out now days?"  " I can not believe you did not know that was a nudist thing!"  "Where are going today?"

So here it is in black and white for you all to read.  Now you know and you can snicker all you want.  I do have to go on record with this statement; "Been there, done that, cross that one off my bucket list even before I knew it was there."  I really believe this could be beneficial to some people and I did make a mental note that on Tuesday's everyone has to wear clothes.  If I go, it will be on Tuesday!
And one more thing, if I am going to parade around in my birthday suit, I do beleive I will need to iron it.  Failing in that I will just gain about 10 more pounds and that should pull those extra wrinkles out of the thing!  LOL

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