When you are over the hill, you pick up speed!

Well, this is one of my more recent snap shots.  I mean this is a more recent snap shot that some one else took of me.  I even look blurry.  Age is not wearing well on me.  And it is happening so fast that I am about ready to jump out of the way of this speeding train.  By the way, my shirt says "Jesus is coming!!!  Quick   Look busy!"  Well actually my shirt just hangs there and does not say anything.  I embroidered that on there as a message to those who have the idle hands in the day to day life we are forced to live.

At one point in time I was into decorating the "Necessary Room"  with wise sayings.  The first to hit the wall was one that had a sheep and said, "Ewe's not fat!  Ewe's Fluffy!"  That was followed closely by "Of all the things I've lost, I miss my mind the most!"  I soon tired of that one and replaced it with "Either lead, follow, or get the hell out of the way!"  These little jewels were all made in counted cross stitch that I toiled long and hard over.

Well, now it is many years later and the old eyesight is matching the picture there and the counted cross stitch is a thing of the past.  I used to crochet with the smallest hook and use thread that was like a spider web and make beautiful doilies to put all over the house.  The thread I use is now rug yarn and the doilies have been replaced by a store bought kitchen towel draped through one of the handles of the stove.  I always tilled my own garden, but now I am thinking of having some one come over and do that for me.  Actually I am looking to sell the tiller and do the container gardening thing where I do not actually have to bend over.

When we moved here in 1983 it took me about 35 minutes to mow and trim the yard.  Thank God we had a hot, dry summer last year and the grass refused to grow!  The chore is now up to over an hour and that is not counting the 3 breaks I need to take to rehydrate and dry the sweat that now runs off my head in rivulets!  I thought about hiring this out to my grandson, but when I told him I would pay $20 for the work and he looked at me with disdain, I just wanted to rip his head off his body!  Proving that not only does either one of us know the value of a dollar, but also that my sense of humor is definitely down the crapper.

For the first 55 years of my life I did not need an air conditioner in the summer and a wood stove was fine in the winter.  Shoveling snow was just something I did when it fell on my side walk.  At some point in time I must have blown my thermostat, because now an air conditioner is a must and I ain't chopping that damn wood, no way.  Right before Christmas we had to really big snows and I managed to make it in or out, but this past week when I looked out in the morning and saw that crap I picked up the phone and called the step daughter.  "Was Michael on his way over or shall I go ahead and shovel this stuff myself?'  Dead silence.  We both knew the answer to that one!  And my thoughts on this were almost profound!

Why is youth always wasted on the young?  When we were kids growing up at home and it snowed, we never shoveled.  No one shoveled.  The tallest one went out first and "broke a path"  to wherever we needed to go.  Usually the first path was to the out house.  And luckily that path led past the wood pile so eliminated the need for the second path!  (My momma didn't raise no fools!)  Hopefully someone had chopped and stacked some wood on the back porch before the "storm hit" so there would be dry wood for the necessary parts of life like cooking.  We did have a propane cook stove, but we only used that on Sunday and not always then. 

Winters were hard back then.  The stove would inevitably burn out in the night so we had to rely on the pile of quilts on our beds for survival.  That and shared body heat.  Us kids slept in a pile on two beds.  Now each little angel needs their own room.  And a furnace to keep them the same temperature all night and day.  Course we did not know any better.  That was how the world turned back then.  So let me get to the point and I am sure there must be one.

I do not remember ever doing any manual labor growing up at home.  We must have because I am pretty sure there were dishes to be washed, meals to be cooked, floors to be swept and mopped, laundry to be done, chickens to be fed.  It is just that I do not remember ever doing any of that stuff back when I was young and strong and could have done it very easily.  Back when I could have made a difference in my mother's life I do not remember doing anything.  Youth is wasted on the young, like I just said.

I am drifting from my original goal because thinking back to my younger days always makes me nostalgic, so I am going to wind this up, but I will be back very soon and I am going into the years in Nickerson, Kansas in much greater detail.  For now I just want to tell you to seize the day, which in French is "Carpe diem!"  or something like that.  I now refer back to my final piece of needlework.

When you are over the hill, you pick up speed.

(And the nearer you get to the bottom, it becomes a very slippery slope!)

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I am awaiting the words of a groundhog?

Now this sounds like something an intelligent woman would do, doesn't it?  Let me see, if he sees his shadow he will run back into his hole and I will know that there will be 6 more weeks of winter.  Correct?  I got news for all of you, there will be six more weeks of winter whether or not some burrowing animal in Pennysylvania sees his shadow or not.  I live in Colorado and I know when it is winter here.  Winter does not even start till about now.    Right now it is 23 degrees and that is pretty wintery to me. 
Oh, I see by the news scroll that feeds across the top of the screen that he did see his shadow so there will be six more weeks of winter.  Glad he clarified that for me.  Know what would really impress me?  If he learned how to spell Punxsuatawney.  I was not even close, but the spell checker was.  Amazing isn't it?
Now there are signs the "old wifes" can read that will tell you all kinds of things if you know an old wife any where.  Like if the Caterpillar has lots of hair and it is very long, it is going to be a very cold winter. And if they build thier cocoon high when cocoon time is here, it will be a very wet season.  Oh, and there was that one that if the inch worm got on your foot and walked across it, you were going to get a new pair of shoes.  Course we never knew just when those shoes would show up, but they usually did at some point in time and it was all thanks to that worm.
If you spill salt you have to immediately grab a pinch of it and throw it across your left shoulder or you would have bad luck.  Oh and better see who was standing behind you or you  might have worse luck!  A broken mirror was sure to bring you 7 years of bad luck.  Bad luck usually started about the time your mom saw the broken mirror.  Never walk under a ladder cause that was bad luck.  And a black cat crossed your path you better change your course and damn quick!  So remember that inch worms are good luck and black cats are not. 
What I would like to know is who is going to teach this to the next generation?  I have forgotten most of the stuff and the generations coming up never listened so the knowledge is just gone.  I am sure some where out there that some one has written all this down and a ground hog in Pennsylvania is not the only guage of winter we have, but it is fun to watch. 
And hopefully on February 21, I will be able to give you a lesson on Shrove Tuesday and the great Pancake Day Race.  Going to be a great year so stick with me!

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Pick ME! Pick ME!

I would dearly love to blame this on some one else,  but I feel that in all honesty I must take full credit for this.  Granted I do have a lot on my mind here the past few days, but I would be remiss if I let this one go by unnoticed.  You will need all the facts.

I went to the doctor and had blood work done.  When it got back nursie dear (and you know who you are, don't you, Deb?) called to give me the  news that every thing is through the roof except my bank account.  Now granted, I was about to get around to starting to exercise pretty soon, but she informed me that I was way to late for that.  And she was most firm about it and now I know why they call her "Sarge".    So I commiserated with my buddy Tim and he gave me a tongue lashing.  "You have the treadmill all set up down stairs for crying out loud!  Just get on it and quit saying you do not have time!  Just do it!"

Well, the man is right.  So after he left I got to thinking.  I am good at multi tasking and this might work.  I had 3 seed catchers that just needed elastic in them and they would be ready to go.  So I clipped a bodkin on each end of the elastic and started it through the little opening.  That was going well and so I reached up and turned on the tread mill.  You know that safety device that hooks on your belt and if you fall it will turn the machine off?  Yeah, that inconveniently place little do hickey.  The seed catcher kept getting wrapped around that and shutting the tread mill down.  So I unhooked it from my waist and wrapped it around itself.  Then we started again, 

Well all was going real well at the slowest speed so I kicked it up a notch.  And I finished both sides of the first seed catcher.  Things were going so good I actually thought about calling Tim's wife and telling her how good I was doing at this multi tasking thing, but I decided to just finish the seed catchers first.  So I started number 2.  Then I kicked it up another notch.  I had been at this little job about 9 minutes when I dropped the bodkin.  Now what do we do when we drop something?  We pick it up.  Natural instinct dictates that.  Well, let me just tell you when I realized that was the wrong thing to do. 

It occured to me about the time my right leg hit the Oleandar tree and my left leg was sticking out of the Fig tree and my whole backside was being sanded by the sure grip coating on the treadmill which was now spinning freely at about 30 miles per hour.  That was also about the time I noticed my safety cord dangling harmlessly behind the speedometer.  As I drug my poor broken little body across the floor to jerk that loose I thanked my God in heaven and all his angels that I was alone and not being videotaped.

So here I am the next day.  I am not real sure that right leg isn't broken and it is a very funny color.  The left one is sore, but still intact.  My backside resembles chicken skin after it has been barbequed.  Some where in the melee I whacked my head on something and I am not sure I don't have a severe concussion, but for sure there is something loose up there.

So, the words of wisdom for today are this:  Leave that damn safety thing on your belt, do not try to multi task and for crying out loud if you drop something, just leave it alone.  I must confess that I could not get to sleep last night and I am not sure whether it was because of the bone poking through my skin or because I was laughing so hard at the sight that must have been!


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I miss you!

R.I.P

KENNETH ARNOLD MERCER

12/9/1931

1/30/2003

If love could have saved you, you would never have died.

Well, life suddenly makes no sense at all!

Got my insurance bill the other day and it rather ticked me off.  I carry full coverage, medical, towing, and all the good stuff.  The one I resent is the premium I pay for "Uninsured Motorist".  Excuse me.  What did I miss here?  Isn't there a law on the books that says I have to have car insurance to drive in Colorado?  I have to show my proof of insurance when I get a tag for my vehicle.  Was this a special law that was written for me alone? 
So I think the way this works is if I crash into someone,you can rest assured it will not be my fault because I am the most defensive driver in the whole world.  So if this happened in a perfect world my insurance would pay for his car and his would pay for mine, sort of a way to say, "Hey guys, accidents happen."  So if he did not have insurance, it would be fair if my insurance paid for my car.  This is in a perfect world.
But here I am with insurance on my car for me and an "Uninsured Motorist".   So I am assuming that the "Uninsured Motorist" premium I pay will kick in and pay to fix my car.  So, does my insurance now pay to fix his car?  I certainly hope not.  So if it does not, and it sure as hell better not, what does my insurance do?  Is this "Uninsured Motorist" something I pay just as a way of hedging a bet that I am the only one on the road out there with insurance?
Now, I had to have proof of insurance to get my tag. So how did he get his?  The state keeps better records than that.  If I forget to take my card when I renew my tag and I quite by accident get a kind clerk at the tag place, they will look on the computer and see that my insurance is indeed paid.  So can't they know when Joe Blow let his policy lapse and declare his tag illegal?
You know, they talk about inequality in taxes and all especially during the election, but is this fair?  I understand that I need insurance, but why do I need to buy insurance against the person who does not obey the law?  And if he should get a ticket for no insurance, who gets the money?  I paid the premium, but the judical system gets the money!  Fair play?  I think not.

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You got to read that blog today.  Now before you go, I must tell you there is a full frontal nude painting, so cover the kids eyes. 

Just thought this was a welcome diversion and I am with Tracey wondering just what this is all about.  I will probably never feel the same about orange slices again.

When is the news not the news?

Sorry, just got to vent here a minute.  I do not get the newspaper.  Why, you ask?  Because first of all there is very little content worth reading in it.  Then there is the price which is completely out of reason.  But I stopped after the last big snow storm.  See, I live on a back acre and that means I have a very long walk up to the paper box.  I like to read it first thing in the morning so that would mean I would need to make the walk in the dark in my jammies.  That might be alright, but I worry a lot about the dogs that  people in the county let out at night and hope they be good.  Rabid dogs, marauding bears and stuff like that make the walk something that is not going to happen.  And I tried the old trick of getting Monday morning's paper out of the box Monday afternoon and laying it on the front porch and then being so happy to see it there, grabbing it and my coffee and opening it at the table to read.
I would first read the date.  Hmmm, Monday.  Glance at the calendar and I have nothing planned.  Now you should know that getting old is an astounding process in that you can fool yourself real easy.  So in order to make a Tuesday morning appointment, I had to write it on the calendar on Monday.  Course then when someone told me it was Tuesday and I remembered tricking myself with the paper thing, they thought I was insane.  So I gave that up.
Back to the paper.  Remember right before Christmas we had back to back snow storms?  Well, that long driveway sure came in as something I was not going to travel down.  So when I went to get the paper, I found it thrown on top of a snow drift.  Same thing the next day.  The third day came the second snow and so the paper was delivered to the drift again only now it was a little further down the road.  Well, finally the road by the paper box was cleared, but the delivery boy still continued to deliver it to the ditch.  Then the street under the ditch.  So, I just gave up.
Deciding to watch the news on television I learned another lesson; all 4 channels have a different concept of news.  Some are Liberal, some are conservative, some favor Colorado Springs,  some favor Pueblo, and one in particular favors God.  So let me do the online thing.  I can now know what one of the actresses wore on the runway back in 2001.  And did you know Dolly had a boob job?  And there are some who are actually up on the news, but a couple give new meaning to the word "news".  The one scrolling across the top of the screen now is very tiny.  If I tilt my head just right and get it in the center line on my trifocals, I am good to go.
But here is the biggest news flash of all...As I get older I am realizing that my sources of news really do not matter.  I don't care how much skin Demi showed ten years ago.  I can not do anything about the Middle East situation and that smiling little chickadee on the television is not too worried about it either.  If someone dies, surely some one will tell me in time that I can attend the service.  I put an ad in the classifieds and got one call so I am sure that $37.95 was well invested.  The social page just shows me there were a lot of parties that I was not invited to.  The Tuesday morning sale papers for the grocery stores are wasted on me cause I have Legree's right up the road a piece. 
That leaves the editor's page and opinions of the readers and dear Kenny taught me that opinions are just like the end of my digestive tract, everyone has one.  So rather than read the news, I may decide one of these days to just go out and make it! 
All this because the paper man chose not to drive up my drive way and leave the paper in my yard.  After all I was only a customer for 29 years, but in this day and age loyalty means jack!

4 Year celebration of the shared ministry of First Congregational UCC and Christ Congregarional UCC in Pueblo, Colorado.

Today was a very special celebration honoring 4 years of a shared ministry between two churches who are separate but equal.  The slide show should convey the comradery that transpired today.  The first two years was spent working out all the logistics and then we hired the Reverend Jeannine Lamb, who has served both churches for two years this coming May.
The history of the United Churches of Christ here in Pueblo, Colorado is one best gone into at a later date.  First Church started in 1878 and in 1957 the more progressive Christ Church splintered off from the First Church.  Needless to say, all you need to know at this point is that we been around a very long time!
Pastor Lamb conducts two services every Sunday.  But this is about our celebration.  The mere fact that 4 years later we are still here and still in a committed realtionship while remaining completely seperate is enough to make me scratch my head, but here we are. 
Tom Rehling, the Conference Minister was an active participant in the festivities.  Retired Reverend Will Green and his wife Delores attended.  As did retired Reverend Bob Howard and his wife Evelyn.  My personal favorite was the retired Reverend Faye Gallegos who was twice the Interim Minister at First Church when I attended there.  I love her and I am going to do a blog on her soon because she actually marched with Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.
I had a wonderful day and now I am very tired, so I want you to enjoy the slide show and I will write more tomorrow.  Just know that this is a good day!

Oh, hell! I am falling to pieces before my very eyes!

I have always prided myself on how well preserved I am.  Hard to convince people that I am actually 70 years old.  Well, now it may be catching up with me.  My foot has been hurting since last September, so I decided to go have it checked out.  Now before you get all excited thinking why did I put it off, I will tell you. 
See I was setting a new stock tank for the geese.  That entailed digging.  I thought I had probably bruised my foot.  So I kind of took it easy for a few days.  Then it was October and I began to think maybe I had sort of did the hairline fracture thing so I started doubling up on the Calcium.  By then we were just past Thanksgiving, and then there was Christmas to contend with and then New Years.  So this was actually the first chance I had to see Doctor. That and the fact that I seemed to recall a woman who had stepped on a needle and years later it showed up on an x-ray.  This sure felt like a needle.
So I called and of course, Deb got me right in. 
Doctor was very surprised to see me and after exchanging pleasantry's he checked my chart.  Now bear in mind that my blood pressure is always right there on the normal number and never fluctuates.  Well, except today when it found it necessary to jump up 12 points.  So here I sat with a needle in my foot ready to break loose and head for my heart and the elevated blood pressure.  I tried to explain to him that when she took my blood pressure, we were talking.  This really tickled him. 
"So when you talk your blood pressure jumps up?"
"Well, no, but I am under a lot of stress."
"Stress from what?"
"Well, that needle in my foot that is probably moving steadily to my heart while we are talking for one thing!"
"X-ray will pick up a needle like that!"  Course he snapped his fingers, because that is what they do. "Now what else?"
So I explained about how busy I have been selling on ebay.
"Oh, dear, making money stresses you?"
I told him about the big ice glacier in my front yard.
"Oh, dear, ice stresses you?"
I told him about all the things I do in my "spare time".
"Oh, you would rather vegetate?"
To make a long story short, the man knows me very well and he puts up with no crap and excuses.  I love him and have since the first day I met him.  That day when he walked into the exam room the first time and said, "Why are you here?"
And I said, "Since you are my new doctor, I wanted to meet you."
And he said, "So do you want a Colonostomy?"
And I said, "Do I look like I want a Colonostomy?"
And he said, "So then, why are you here?"
And I said, "Because if I have a major coronary and wind up in the emergency room I would at least want to know that you recognized me as one of your patients.  I do not take pills for my Cholesterol, and I will let you know if I have any needs.  Blood test once a year so you can tell me it is high and adjust my thyroid.  That is about it."
But now he is making Doctor noises and since I do love the man dearly and have gotten used to living on this planet I guess I will keep an eye on the old blood pressure and seems like the x-ray came back and there is not a needle in the old foot after all.  It is a spur and if it continues to bother me, "we" will do something about it which will entail a knife and a needle which strikes fear in my heart.  So the wiccan brought me some stuff to try and I will kind of try to stay off the silly thing a little more.  Oh, and I'm going to mix me up a concoction of cider vinegar, honey and garlic.  Garlic cures everything, including spurs and blood pressure!  Oh, yeah, vampires, too!
And being single and uninvolved, I can pack away the garlic!  Yes!  Life is good even if I am falling to pieces a bit at a time.

Merry Christmas to Icarus, apparently!

This is the fountain that Bret and Amanda gave me for Christmas.  It is battery operated and sets on the counter by the bathroom sink.  It has a few rocks scattered on the base.  At one time it had more then a few, but here is the deal...Icarus thinks that this is her personal water fountain.  When she pops up there on the counter, which can be any time day or night, I am expected to switch it on so she can lap the water.  Like this:

If I am not there quickly enough she will take her delicate little paw and slide a rock over to the side and on to the counter.  Then she will take that same little paw and whack it and send it flying across the room.  Some times she drops them in the sink and then tries to get them out of there.  That makes noise that gets my attention.  So my question here is whose Christmas present was this, mine or the cat's?

This is the busiest cat I have every seen.  Sometimes when I am in the kitchen I will feel eyes on me.  When I look up that cat is invariably hanging down over the top of one of the cupboards watching me.  She will stay in that position until I forget she is there and then drop down and land on the counter behind me.  That is always good for the old cardiovascular as well as cleanliness in the kitchen.

She reads book!

Helps me with my blog!

Has long talks with Daisy!

And naps with Elvira!

Early in the morning and early in the evening, I go out to do my chores.  I am, of course, accompanied by two dogs and a cat that thinks she is a dog.  Course lots of time I arrive at the fowl house to find her already waiting for me there.  She waits on top of it.  She does not seem too alarmed when I explain about the fox.  When we come back to the house she runs ahead as the dogs like to ding around.  She hides behind a bucket by the gate and leaps out at them as the come trotting by.  Never ceases to scare the dickens out of them. 

Night time will find her either sleeping on the other side of the bed, or setting in my window if the moon is bright.  Have no idea what she is looking at out there, but I do know I sure sleep better with the two dogs in their beds at the bottom of the bed and the cat over there sound asleep.  One consolation there is as long as she is there I am confident she is not out some where getting ready to bring me my breakfast of a mouse, centipede or some other of God's creatures to brighten my night time hours.!

Thanks to the Wiccan for giving me a cat that fits so well into my lifestyle!

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Woke up this morning, Nickerson on my mind.

That should be a country western song!  Woke up this morning, you were on my mind.  Forget who sang that, but this morning I woke up remembering when I was a little girl in Nickerson, Kansas and for some reason I was remembering the layout of the school and the lunch room.  Lunch room?  Who am I kidding?  The school was a red brick which was 2 stories tall.  There were 4 double doors to get into the school; two in front and two in back.  Face the school and on your left was the main entrance.

Well, here I made a little sketch of it.  It is not drawn to scale, but let me tell you, on top is the bottom floor.  See you come in the main entrance which is the upper left corner.  On your right is the first grade room.  I remember the alphabet marching above the black board.  But that is not why we are here.  See that hallway running down the middle?  See that table and those benches?  That was the lunch room.  At the end of the hall was the kitchen, restrooms and janitor.  Here was the heart of the school as far as I could tell!
Now this is what I looked like back then.  This is actually my mother, but even today I could pass for her.  Look at those shoes!   Button ups!  I wore brown Buster Browns.  Remember that ad?  "Arf!" then "That's my dog Tide.  He lives in a shoe.  I'm Buster Brown, look for me in there too!"  They came in two colors.  Black and Brown.  I mean you could get a pair of Black shoes or a pair of brown shoes.  In later years they introduced white and then combined white with them and the Saddle Oxford was born!  That is a whole nuther story.

Ah, the kitchen!  When we arrived at school the ladies were all ready at work cooking.  Mrs. Ritchie was the cook and her brother-in-law, Mr. Ritchie was the janitor.  I think that was right.  In later years, I think he committed suicide.  I recall her as a short, kind of heavy, very sweet lady.  He was always very kind.  Anyway, at the appointed time the kids were allowed to file past the end of the table and pick up their plates and a carton of milk.  (I think it was actually still in glass bottles at that time.)  That was if you could afford the meals.  If not you took your lunch sack, pail, or box and set at the far end of the table.  Seems like the far end was always more populated than the hot meal kids. Although I remember eating hot meals there, so it must have happened a  time or two any way.  I know I carried my lunch in a paper bag which I must be sure to bring home.  Do not remember what I ate, but I do remember that meat was a rarity and peanut butter was a real treat!  And bread was a nickle a loaf!  (I also remember being very jealous of the kids who had the fancy tin lunch boxes.  And today they sell on eBay like gold!)
And another thing, showing that the government was always taking care of us was that once a month, in the middle of the morning, we were sent down to the tables where we were given a paper cup full of orange juice.  This was given to us so we got out vitamin c and did not develop Rickets or some such incurable disease.  I am sure that the one glass of orange juice once a month was the only thing standing between me and being dead today!  But it sure was good orange juice, and the only time we ever had it!
Now a lunch room is a far different thing.  No way would kids be allowed to eat in the hallway.  I know when they were building the new grade school in Nickerson, one of the selling factors was that it would have a lunch room!  Course it was built after I left grade school, so I never got to see it.
Another thing that stands out in my mind is the music room.  It was at the head of the stairs and very small.  There were shades on the windows that were designed to block out light or to keep light from escaping.  This was in case the Germans or Japanese or  some one came and bombed us.  I do not think we ever used them, but you just never knew back then what might transpire.  Early in my school days, the district purchased an older frame school building and moved it to the property and it became our new Music Room.  When it was time for music we marched single file out the door, across the school yard (being careful to stay on the side walk so as not to step on any of the weeds.), and into the music building, which was very big and very airy and we loved it.  Miss Barkiss was our teacher and some years later she would marry David Houston, son of the principal of our school.  That is all I know about that!
I do remember the last day of school was always cause for celebration.  We would be full of anticipation for the coming summer, but we would be sad because we would not see our friends.  Seems people did not visit then like they do now.  Oh I would walk over to my best friend, Barbara Hawk's house and we would play, but that was a long ways over there and when I left she would walk me half way home.  But school ending was always a big deal.  We may have had a picnic!  I think we did!  And the band would play and we would listen. And my eighth grade year which was my last, a bird flew over and pooped right on Gay as she played her Clarinet and she did not even wince, just kept right on playing!  Always admired her for that though I never told her so.
I often wonder about my teachers. Miss Donough  was first grade and she married a guy I think was named Breece in the middle of the year.  Mrs. Wait was second grade, Miss Holmes was third,  Mrs. Howe was fourth.  (She got a thorn in her intestine and almost died.)  Miss Swenson was 5th, Miss Lauver was sixth, Mr. Bollinger was 7th and Mr. Schriber was 8th.  At least that is how it goes in my mind.  Nobody ever quit.  Nobody ever got fired.  Nobody ever molested anybody and as far as I know they are still all there in Nickerson, Kansas where I left them.  Mr. Bollinger owned the movie theater and tickets were 7 cents.  It was open on Friday night and Saturday afternoon.
When I was in 4th grade Aunt Helen came and enrolled me in Brownies, which was the precursor to Girl Scouts.  Bought me a brownie dress and hat.  She was very rich and had no kids.  Her brother was Frank Wocknitz who made bologna named "Tony's Bologna" and it was the only kind we ever ate and was carried by both grocery stores.  Lord only knew what was in that other bologna.  And when he died, that was the end of the business cause he took the recipe to the grave.
Well, I could gas all day long here, but I need to get busy.  The memory is a wonderful thing.  I am sure mine is accurate.  But if it isn't one of two things will happen; either someone will email me with their memory or they will say, " Oh, I had forgotten that!  I am so glad she remembered!"  But if there is anyone out there who remembers my good old days, and me, give me a holler.  We will have a great visit, if we remember why we came.

This is going to be my first ad I publish. Hope it works!

Amy is here and this is where we went.... Bishops Castle above Beulah.

I am just going to post this slide show and then I will be back later.  Ok, now I am back.  Amy got here on Friday, the 6th of January.  I have never known anyone who would drive 3 days and 2000 miles just for the sole purpose of meeting me.  But Amy and I had been visiting in the chat rooms and by email since November 24, 2010.  I know this cause she told me so.  I have never been one to remember dates and I envy her that ability.

So here they came and arrived on Friday night.  Saturday morning we got up and went to Beulah to the coffee shop.  Course Jan was tickled to see me and meet my friends.  I of course, took a lot of pictures. One in particular of a man named Bill Moulton.  Do you recall a hundred years ago when doing the laundry before washing machines there was a divice that looked like an upside down funnel?   In the top of this you placed a stick and then put your clothes in the tub with soap and used that "Easy Washer" to stomp them clean.  Well he did not have the stick in his so he was setting there with the thing on his head and Jan and I decided that he bore a most striking resemblance to the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz.  So I took several pictures and promised to send him a link when I put him on here.

So the first problem seems that of the 75 pictures I took that morning of Bill, Jan, Beulah, and Bishops Castle , there is no record what so ever.  Gone!  Kaput!  Like my life.  So I called Jan and she will have her son email me copies when he gets around to it.  At that time I shall do a big spread on the Tin Man/Bill Moulton.  And if the kid does not send the pictures, he shall live in my mind.

After we left the coffee shop, we drifted up and I showed them the Dragon Tree carved by John Clay.  Then on up the mountain to Bishop's Castle.  Course it was very snowy up there, but the roads were dry.  That Castle is sure worth the trip up there.  It was uilt from the ground up by one man, Jim Bishop.  He placed every rock and welded every piece of metal.  Fascinating piece of work that will never be completed as long as he is alive, because he will never stop.  Google it.

Sunday we kind of kicked back and they discovered the joys of Colorado Cuisine, namely Green Chile.  Course later we discovered the plumbing was plugged up very tight.  That is another Colorado joy.  After much plunging and cussing we gave up.  Early Monday brought the Septic Tank pumper because when the plumbing doesn't work it is inevitable that it is the tank is full.  Well, for once that was not the case, but since he was here anyway, might as well get that done.  He was followed by the roto rooter guy.  You guessed it, tree roots in the line, so I will get that taken care of this spring.

Then we cleaned up the kitchen and made chicken and noodles with mashed potatoes.  Taught Amy how to make cookies with a cake mix.  Also made a Root Beer Float Cake.  I guess since they had just finished 2000 miles of sight seeing and were getting ready for another 2000 miles of the same thing, sight seeing was not a biggie this weekend.

Then bright and early this morning they hopped in the car and drove away.  I talked to her just a bit ago and they were in Wichita Falls, Texas, and headed for Dallas.  I know I am missing them already.  I know there are those of you out there who may think we are nuts, but so be it.  She did tell me "I can not beleive I did this.  Drove all this way.  I can not believe I did this.  This is crazy!" I know that when I met Amy it was like I had always known her and this weekend just cemented a friendship between Beachgirlbaby and MOUNTAIN MOMMA! 

Since Amy really likes snow I was very glad we got a little skiff Saturday night.  Wish I could have talked God into a little more, but then there was that plumbing problem to contend with.

Amy will be here today!

A long time ago, I became friends on the Internet with a girl named Amy who lives with her husband and mother in Daytona Beach, Florida.  Amy loves cookies, but she does not cook.  So I make her cookies and send them to her and she eats them, that is the deal.  So now I guess she is coming to see just where these cookies are coming from.  So she called last night and they were in Kentucky.  The GPS said they will be here at 8:30 this morning.  Now I rather doubt that because they are surely going to need to have a rest stop and they might even want to eat.  Knowing Amy, I am sure they are going to eat.
And Amy likes the cold, so guess what the forecast is for this next week?  I think today is going to be up over 70 degrees.  So she may not get the cold weather she wants, but we will be making a trip up to Beulah to see Jan at the Stompin' Grounds.  Oh, and Rye.  Pretty sure there will still be snow up there. 
Of course there are those who are concerned that I may be murdered in my bed, never stopping to think that perhaps I might be the one who is going to do the murdering.  You know, slip a little something in the cookies?  A couple years back I stopped in Missouri and met a  lady named Cindy.  Went right to her house.  The wiccan was with me.   Now if anyone had a right to be scared, that woman should have been terrified.  She lived on the edge of a lake and no neighbors for quite a little radius of her house.  Her husband drives a truck over the road so I could have done her in and no one would have known for days.  She turned out to be lovely lady and showed us around Crescent City and bought us an ice cream at a quaint little ice cream store.  Yummy.  (Hi, Cindy!  See I still think about you!)
Years ago we had pen pals that we wrote to and put a stamp on the envelope and mailed.  These pen pals were sometimes overseas, or far away.  Sometimes we would read in the paper about "meet and greets".   So why was it safe back then when we exchanged a few letters with a post mark on them and is not safe now when with the click of my mouse I can get the whole history of her Internet address?  I can type her address in Google and a camera will pan in on her front door and I can go out back and see how much trash is piled there? 
I think you would be amazed if you knew how many "Internet Friends" I have.  Some of them last a long time and some of them are just here for a while.  They are still my friends.  They send me pictures and cards and video's and touch base regularly.   If I ever get rich enough to travel there are a few people I would like to meet in New York, a couple in California, Florida, Missouri and one in Texas.  I did correspond with one fellow for over a year, but I never felt like I knew him at all and it turned out I was right.  So, see, there are ways to tell.  I would never have jumped in my car and gone there, nor would I have had him here.  Just a premonition sort of thing I guess.  But Amy has always been open and honest with me and anyone who knows me, knows how important that is to me. She has been through a lot and shared most of it with me. 
So, I am waiting for Amy as we speak!  I am going to cook for her and Bernie and I have cookies in the freezer, and lots of milk and got the sheets already to put on the bed.  I think we will have a lovely visit and I am probably not going to have time for the blog for a few days.  But get ready when it is over I am going to have a ton or pictures for you!  And she is going to have to drive 3 days to get back home!

Yes, Virginia, the Post Office is in a bit of trouble!

 Label/Receipt Number: 9101 1501 3471 1091 7220 14
Expected Delivery Date: December 21, 2011
Class: Priority Mail®
Service(s): Delivery Confirmation™
Status: Processed through USPS Sort Facility
Your item was processed through our DENVER, CO 80217 facility on December 31, 2011 at 5:08 am. Information, if available, is updated periodically throughout the day. Please check again later.
 
 
    
     
     Enter Label/Receipt Number. 
  
Enter Label / Receipt Number. 
     
    And I did enter all the info.  See I never send anything through the USPS without a tracking number because it just has a a way of going lost.  So let's follow this package.  I sent one of my purses to a lady in Denver (paid for by a mutual friend.) on December  20.   It went immediately to Colorado Springs.  And 2 days later it arrived in Bell Gardens, California .  Apparently they realized right away that it did not belong there.  It was then sent to Denver where it has been kicking around now for  3 days while they search for the address before declaring it Undeliverable as Addressed.  Then they hung on to it for 4 more days.  before they ran it through another sort facility.  Today is January 2, 2012, 14 days, or 2 weeks after I sent this on it's way.  I have no idea where it is now.  No doubt it is probably still in the sort facility in Denver.  Does this tick me off?  Yes it does.  Why?  Let me tell you why...
I sent this Priority Mail, which costs extra with confirmation, which costs extra.  I have the correct address on it with the postal code the Post Office gave me.  Now I could punch this in my GPS and drive right to her front door.  The Post Office will be receiving another increase in postal fees here pretty quick.  They need more money.  They occasionally slip one in on us online buyers anyway, but that is neither here nor there.  What frosts me is that this is the most unreliable shipping service in the business today.  Do you know I can ship Priority (with2-3 day delivery) cheaper than I can ship Parcel Post (2-9 day delivery).  Does that make sense to you?
I live in the county and have a mailbox at the end of my drive.  It is not uncommon for the mail person to just lay a large package beside the mailbox (assuming that everyone who passes it is honest and will not steal it.) rather then bring it to my door and put it on my porch.  One day the door bell rang and a neighbor stood there with a small, dripping wet package.  It was addressed to me and was floating in his irrigaiton lateral.  MP3 player and it is just a damn good thing the Chinese double wrap everything in cellophane.  Since this was not the first time I found mail in the ditch I called and complained.  So now parcels appear on my porch which I greatly appreciate.
Now today is a holiday for the Post Office, poor overworked souls that they are, so I will have no updates on my package.  But, ah tomorrow is coming.  I am assuming that they can get it back to me, but who knows.  Then I can buy postage once more and see where it goes, or wait!  I can give it to the guy who bought it and let him drive it up their to this illusive address.
So that is my story and I am sticking to it.  Oh, yeah, Happy New Year and here's hoping some people are making a lot of resolutions to break.  I will not be breaking mine cause I gave up making them years ago.  Keep in touch!






  Detailed Results:
 
 Processed through USPS Sort Facility, December 31, 2011, 5:08 am, DENVER, CO 80217  Undeliverable as Addressed, December 27, 2011, 6:53 pm, DENVER, CO 80224  Out for Delivery, December 27, 2011, 9:28 am, DENVER, CO 80222
 Sorting Complete, December 27, 2011, 9:18 am, DENVER, CO 80222
 Arrival at Post Office, December 26, 2011, 7:56 am, DENVER, CO 80222  Processed through USPS Sort Facility, December 24, 2011, 10:40 pm, DENVER, CO 80217
 Depart USPS Sort Facility, December 23, 2011, BELL GARDENS, CA 90201  Processed through USPS Sort Facility, December 22, 2011, 3:05 pm, BELL GARDENS, CA 90201
 Depart USPS Sort Facility, December 21, 2011, COLORADO SPRINGS, CO 80910
 Processed through USPS Sort Facility, December 20, 2011, 9:22 pm, COLORADO SPRINGS, CO 80910  Dispatched to Sort Facility, December 20, 2011, 7:06 pm, PUEBLO, CO 81005  Acceptance, December 20, 2011, 2:03 pm, PUEBLO, CO 81006
 Electronic Shipping Info Received, December 20, 2011  

Well, what shall we write about today? Aunt Lena!

Yesterday I went to the dentist and I am now able to say I know exactly what Mother meant when she whacked me upside the head and told me to quit opening bottles with my teeth.  Wish she would have told me what would happen if I continued using them for a pair of pliers, but she didn't.  And of course the trip across town rendered the usual idiot that passed me on the left, cut in front of me to get to the right turning lane and then swerved back when he finally figured out which way was left while all the while keeping that damn cell phone firmly attached to his ear!  We seem to not have any laws concerning that sort of thing as "Johnny Law"  remained unperturbed behind me.  I thought about tapping my brakes to wake him up, but I know how my luck runs and I do not need a husband named Sally at this point in my life.
So that is what I intended to write about today, but when I woke up I had Aunt Lena on my mind.  Now I do not have a picture of her and Sister Donna is not awake yet, but I can see her as clearly in my mind as if she were standing right here in front of me. 
Aunt Lena was born to Johann Jakob Haas and Maria Dorothea Schrade (nee) on May 6, 1893.  She was given the name Magdalena Haas.  This was in keeping with the name Maria Magdalena, a daughter born to his first wife in Dettingen, Germany who was born in 1874 and passed in 1876 at the tender age of 1 year and 10 months. ( This was common to rename a new baby for one that had not survived.)  Aunt Lena was the 12th of 13 living children born to Johann Jakob.  Two children had died in infancy.  Prolific old fellow if you get my drift.  ;)
The Haas family settled in near Plevna, Kansas.  Now some how this gets very confusing.  The Gagnebin family lived near Abbyville, Kansas.  Helen Gagnebin married Frank Miller.  They had two daughters, Josie and Helen, and  one son,  Lewis Miller.  At some point in time Helen and Frank Miller wound up living next door (within a mile of each other.) to the Haas Family.  At that juncture my grandfather, Christoph Adam Haas (from Great Grandfathers first wife deceased)  in Germany married Josie Emma Miller in 1900.  She became my grandmother.  Seven years later Gottlieb Haas (Who replaced Gottlieb Haas who had only lived 7 months and died the year before Uncle Goll was born.) married her sister, Mabel Helen Miller.  All of these children are double cousins.  When Uncle Lou Miller cast his eyes on Magdalena Haas, Great Grandmother  came un wound and said "No!  Too many Haas's have married too many Miller's!"  Back in those days children actually listened to thier parents, so Lou and Lena were not married.  Uncle Lou later married a lady named Eva.  Aunt Lena never married.  She remained in Plevna and I think she took in sewing and cleaning and laundry.  I am sure she never worked at a job, per se, but she managed to be self sufficient.  I know she rented rooms to "old maid school teachers", but we never called her an old maid.  No way!  She was just Aunt Lena who was not married. 
But she was great!  I remember going to her house which was a block or so from Grandma Haas.  Aunt Lena kept a stock tank there full of water and let us kids get in it in the summer when it was hot.  Course we wore our clothes, but that was the fun part; letting them dry on us when it was really hot!  My first taste of air conditioning.  Her house had two or three bedrooms and was very simple.  Every where was crocheted doilies and table cloths; the same as grandma's house.   I recall the porch and the Lilac bushes all over her yard.  When I smell Lilac's in the yard now, I am transported to Plevna, Kansas and my dear Aunt Lena.  I do not think she ever painted her house.  Seems like it was always old gray bare wood.
She had an old car, which was probably new at the time and sometimes she would take us for a ride in the country.  If we spotted a creek she would whip that old Packard (?) over and we would leap out and climb the fence.  Aunt Lena knew how to pull the front of her skirt between her legs and tuck the tail in the waist band.  This made us wear pantaloons!  We did not dare to get that muddy water on our clothes or we would have been punished.
A funny thing I remember about Aunt Lena was the way she talked.  She never opened her mouth.  It was like her teeth were stuck together.  I'm sure they came apart because she had to eat, but not necessary to talk.  Aunt Lena was never sad, nor happy.  She would tell stories of the old days.  She knew every family member and what they were doing and when they had a new baby and everyone's birthday and where anyone with a drop of Haas blood in thier viens was at any given point in history.  I guess she was the family Historian.  She was my grandfathers sister and since I never knew grandpa she would tell me things about him.  I do not remember the stories, but I remember her saying "Your grandpa."  Never called him by name, just my grandpa.  I do wish I had known him.
Her and Aunt Mable made me a quilt and hand quilted it when Duane and I had been married for 5 years.  They made a quilt called Postage Stamp.  It probably had a million tiny squares and it was so pretty and the stitches were so tiny.  To this day I do not know where it went, but I do know where it isn't.  I think someone stole it when I was in Garden City, Kansas.  It was one of those now you see it and now you don't things.  I remember putting it away in a very safe place in our apartment on Jenny street.  And then it was just no more.
Aunt Lena was tall, or so it seemed.  Back when I was 4 feet tall everyone was tall.  And I remember Aunt Lena was so wrinkled.  I mean her face.  Maybe it was a combination of the hot Kansas wind and the farm life and maybe it was just my imagination.  Or it could be that when I lived with grandma Haas in 1955, Aunt Lena was 63 years old.  But she was the same wrinkled when she died in 1994 at the age of 101.  She lived alone in her home until just shortly before her death.  As I recall some kind soul had made arrangements for Meals on Wheels to deliver food to her on a daily basis.  That did not last long as she couldn't eat tha stuff.  One thing the Haas family is famous for is cooking.  And cook we do.  We use cream, butter, bacon, yeast and when a meal hits the table there are no boxes in the trash.  Kind of hard to eat institutional food after doing it yourself for 90+ years.  I know for supper every night she had popcorn.  Dry, I think.  But sometimes she put milk on it.  Popcorn is a staple here at my house, but it is just an occasional snack, not a meal!
The last time I seen Aunt Lena was at the family reunion that used to be every September in Plevna, Kansas at the high school gymnasium.  That was all that was left was the gym.  Aunt Lena was there and she must have been about 98.  Earl Boyd was also there.  He was a second cousin by marriage or something.  I will have to research that.  (And I will because there is another story to tell.)  Earl was probably 85 or so, but he had macular degeneration and could barely see.  Aunt Lena and Earl were visiting and I over heard there conversation.
"Lena, I would love to go see the old home place, but I don't have a car.  Do you have a car?"
"Yes, Earl, I have my car and it runs good, but I do not drive that far. (The home place was 4 miles away, but you had to cross highway 50.) Can you drive?"
"Well, yeah, but I can't see.  I am blind. But I can drive.  Can you see?"
"Yes, I can see really well, but I just can't drive."  Then Earl had a brilliant idea.
"I can drive and you can direct me!  We will have to go very slow cause if we wind up in the ditch we will be in big trouble!   I don't have a license any more and they would give me a ticket."
Then they both fell into silence and sat there a few minutes before Earl said "This old age sure ain't what it is cracked up to be."  Then they both chuckled and I could not help but smile.
But it is sad.  I told them the next time I made it to town (and at that point I always took Earl with me) I would round them up and go wherever they wanted to go.  But of course time and tide wait for no man and that never happened.  I never saw Aunt Lena again, but how lucky I am to have my memories.

If only the refrigerator lasted as long as the light bulb.

In 2002 I bought this refrigerator.  Last weekend the light bulb burned out.  So off I went like the little red hen to Lowe's to buy a light bulb for the refrigerator.  While I was there I intended to get a one inch screen for the bathroom sink drain.  I had bought one that was 1 1/8 inch but it would not go in the hole.  So I first looked for the screen.  I only found  1 1/8 inch one.  I asked the lady and she said that was the smallest they made.  That did not make sense to me.  If I have a sink that needs a one inch one, why do they not make one?  So I wandered along and decided I could put the plunger thing in and that would work.  Lot harder than dropping a screen in a hole, but what do I know.  As I reached for the plunger apparatus I spied a one inch screen.  Aha!  The expert was wrong. I grabbed that sucker and headed for the lighting department.
Well, that is not where light bulbs are located.  Silly me!  They are on the other end of the store.  Special aisle for them.  And then I started to get dizzy.  Do you have any idea how many different light bulbs there are?  And how many watts?  and what size screw in or snap on or tube and Lordy, I thought my head would explode.  I finally found what I wanted.  60 watts.  Can be used inside, outside , for appliances or lamps.  Just what I wanted,  but wait one minute!  They come in packs of four.  I have one refrigerator.  The bulb that just burned out had lasted 9 years.  If I bought the four pack could I expect my refrigerator to last another 36 years?  No.  I would then be left with extra bulbs and I am trying to break this hoarding habit I have.   So I continued to comb the aisle looking for a single bulb.  Or I could buy three refrigerators and hope they had no light bulb.  That was not feasible either.  At last I gave in to the giant conglomerate that runs the hardware store and put the 4 pack of bulbs in my basket.
Upon arrival at the check out I decided, against my better judgement, to do the self check.  Ok, scan the little 1" screen.  "Put item in the bag."  I did that.  "Place item in bag." I tapped the bag.  "Place item in bag!"  Now she was getting firm with me. I poked the one that said "skip bagging" and she seemed to relax.  Scanned the light bulbs and went through the whole thing again.  I poked finish and pay.  Fed a $10 bill into the greedy little slot and waited for my change.  Change shot out one hole.  Dollar shot out across the way and the receipt fell to the floor.  I gathered my money and receipt and looked at the man in charge.  I looked at him and said "I hate that bitch!"  He never flinched, just asked me, "So do you want your stuff?"  Red faced I grabbed my bag and hurried to the car and home to my little piece of heaven where no one hollers at me and I am always right.  And if I so choose, I can skip the bagging area!

Merry Christmas from the land of ice and snow!

I missed church last night.  First time that has happened in many years.  My driveway is about half a block long and according to my calculations we got over a foot and a half of snow on the level.  Course a little breeze did whip me up a few drifts that were well past my knees and made walking to the goose house to tend my feathered friends a real chore.  Out here in the county when the snow plow goes on South Road the end of my drive gets a double dose.  Now my neighbor man has a four wheel drive so he can get out.  A couple daughters came bearing gifts, but then again, we have the 4 wheel drive factor.  I do not know if any of you have ever tried to drive a small front wheel drive car in the tracks of a big 4 wheel drive truck or SUV, but that is one feat you are not going to accomplish. 
Yesterday morning I did manage to make it to the road but I had to shovel my young self out 4 or 5 times.  I finally quit counting.  I made up my mind that if I could just make it back home I would not leave until spring.  So when I made it up the drive and slid into a place where I could leave the car, I jumped out and ran inside.  And here I still am this morning.  And here I shall remain,but then...
Yesterday evening when I saw church was not an option, I went down to sew.  When I came up I looked out and the good fairy had came and cleared the drive and  the parking in front of my house and the neighbors house.  That was a sight which made me most happy.  I strongly suspect that it was the neighbor man's father in law.  He has a bobcat and while his name slips my mind, he is a very nice man.  So now options are opening up for me again here on Christmas day.  I think I will drift over to the step daughter's house or Kenny's ex wife's and then wind up at the Zane house for dinner (the one at noon).  Then I may cruise up to Florence and see Amanda and the Bretster.  Going to load the new serger up and have him show me how to thread it properly.  The sucker has 8 threads and is way beyond my scope of expertise.
But I thought I would just pop on in here and wish you all a very, very Merry Christmas and remember that Jesus is the reason for the season!  While I know most of you think of me as a Grinch, and that would be because I told you I am, I do have a tiny little spark way deep down that loves Christmas. 
Oh, not the shopping, or the sales, or the hoopla that surrounds it, but the quiet little time when I can look up into a clear December sky and focus on a very bright star that twinkles at me and reminds me of the night so long ago when the baby Jesus was born in a manger.  (I know December 25 may not have been the actual date, but it suffices for us to accept that date. ) As I think about that scene with Mary and Joseph and how far the wise men traveled and the Shepard's and the sheep and all of that, I think I can hear the angels sing.

Merry Christmas To All and God Bless Us Everyone!

Now this is what snow looks like at my house.

Happy Anniversary to me.

 First let me say, I do not share this anniversary with Kay and Frank. Thiers is in August.  That is why it catches me off guard when i see it in the church bulletin.  That is a mistake every year.

Well, it is Friday, December 23, 2011. I know where I was on this date in 1983 and I know what temperature it was.  I was here, in this house preparing to become a new bride.  Kenny and I had been living together for just over a year.  My theory on that was that I did not have a very good track record in the marriage department, so I decided if we could live together for one year that it should be good to go.  So now the year was up.

Kenny had dropped a drive line in one of the dump trucks and had left it to be repaired at Pueblo Brake and Clutch.  Gene Baugh was helping him on the repair work.  It was -15 degrees so working outside was not a fun thing anyway.  Well, about 11 AM they had gone to pick up the drive line and found the shop closed for the Christmas Party.  No way to get it and so what to do with the rest of the day?  We had decided a while back that marriage was definitely an option, so him being the romantic that he was, he stomped the snow off his boots, slammed the door behind himself and announced, "Well, let's go get this shittin' mess over with!"

Now, ladies, who could resist anything that romantic?  I happened to have a new pair of jeans, a very nice checkered western shirt, and a new pair of white cowgirl boots.  He had some nice Levi's and a clean shirt, and wellington boots.  So off we toodled to Canon City.  Went there because Pueblo published marriage licenses in the paper every day and we did not want the fuss and bother of explaining why we never invited anyone.  We got to the Canon City courthouse about 30 minutes before closing, grabbed out license and the name of a retired minister and away we went.  4th floor of the retirement home.  Nice little man, but I forgot his name.  Two witnesses to sign.  One was his wife who was bedridden and another was walking down the hall and knew how to spell her name.  Whole thing took about 7 minutes and that included introductions, staging, and paying for his
services.  Then it was off to our wedding supper.  That was a chocolate covered doughnut and a cup of coffee at the doughnut shop.

When we got home we found a note from Gene.  "Congratulations!"  And a bottle of very cheap wine.  We never did get that gagged down.  We asked Gene to share a few months later and his response was "If I knew I had to drink it I would have got the good stuff."  Finally found a son in law who could be talked into drinking about anything.  He shook it up good and when he took his thumb off the cork, it flew out of the bottle, hit the ceiling, and ricocheted into the side of my head and almost cold cocked me.  Made him take it with him when he left since he was the last one to touch the bottle.

So now here I set 28 years later.  It is -7 below zero.  Got a foot and a half of snow out there on the level.  Got no Kenny, but I got a lot of memories.  It may have started out  a little non traditional, but it was quite the ride and I would not undo one minute of those years.  And when life gets a bit more than I can handle, I remember Kenny and the song he always said was "ours" and when you have that once in your life, once is probably enough.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EigVvZMw3Ds&feature=fvsr

All these years and now Friday is coming!

This is going to be a Happy Anniversary to Frank and Kay, Friday I mean.  And I am going to do a special on that day because that is also the anniversary of Kenny and I.  Funny how I have known Kay and Frank all these years and it just dawned on me that we shared this day in history.  Guess that is because I been walking around all wrapped up in myself all these years.  Best part of this is that a couple (?) years back I helped plan a surprise Anniversary party for them with their son.  Dense, dense, dense!
So now I am pretty busy with year end orders for eBay and trying to contend with this foot of snow here in my yard and all up my driveway, and the daughter is here and we are making her a quilt.  So,  I will see you on Friday.  In the meantime, if any of you want to come and lend me a hand, you just feel free to come on over with your shovel.  Right now it is 2 degrees.

A Colorado snowfall in real life!

Well, now if it has to snow, this is the way to do it.  Here I set snowed in by a foot of snow with one daughter, one grand daughter, one grand something in law, and two great grandsons, ages 2 & 5.  The highways are closed from here to Kansas and beyond.  Help!!
Some one suggested tranquilizers for them, but I find it works better if I take them along with a big shot of Jack Daniels!
I have measured all over the back yard and come up with a figure any where from 9 inches to 23 inches.  So I guess it is anyones guess as to how much we got, but here is the good news...it has stopped snowing and the sun is shining, so snow is going to be out of here in short order.  This is Colorado and I am in the Banana Belt part of the state.  The moisture here is usually nil, if you get my drift.  Even the geese did not get very excited when they saw the snow.  Just walked out and when they figured out their bellies were dragging bottom they just sat down.  They do not seem to mind the snow at all.  The only thing they do insist on is that the straw in the house stays dry.  I guess they are silly.  That is where that saying mother used to use came from...."Oh, you silly goose!"
OK.  I am going to go call Debbie and see if she is buried yet.  Just wanted you to know that I am house bound for a while.

Happy Birthday to the baby boy!

Kind of hard to tell that this is my baby boy.  But it is.  Last one of the litter.  And today he turns 20.  Just one more before the big one.  Course he has already flown the nest and he and his girlfriend are in their own home in Florence.  You would be amazed at what all they are learning.  Gas to drive to and from work is very costly.  And groceries are out of sight.  It is not really necessary to have 2 cell phones with "Everything data" from Sprint for $178.00.  That is not all though.  They have also figured out that if they do not pick up after themselves, house work is a never ending chore.  Think that was their rudest awakening.  I have figured out that they were not the only messy ones living here.
But it is his happy birthday and I can not help but remember where I was when I turned 20.  I had been married for 11 months and was 5 months pregnant with the Debbie.  A couple months earlier we were living in Yates Center, Kansas.  I had gone to the doctor and when he said I was going to have a baby my mind leapt around the small town. 
" Well, where is the hospital?"  That seemed like a very good question to me.  He, however, looked at me like I had just landed my spaceship.
"Well, it is about 75 miles away."
"Well, what about when I get ready to have his baby?  How do I get there?"  Then he sighed and looked at me like I was a complete idiot.
"Well, around these parts, women have their babies to home."  I immediately left his office, ran down the street to where I had left Duane in the pool hall, having a beer to settle his nerves.  When he saw my face he knew we had a situation.
"What did the doctor say?"  And I broke it to him as gently as possible given my terrified state.
"Well, he said pack up your clothes because you are going to have to move back to Hutchinson, cause there is no where to have babies around here."  And we did.
Now what all that has to do with Bret is more than I can understand, but you knew I would make it into something all about me, didn't you?
So, Happy Birthday to the baby boy.  I know he will not get to read this because his new frugal lifestyle does not allow him to have high speed internet and even if he did he does not read my blog.  I only have 3 kids out of  10 that does.  That is 30%.  Kind of poor percentage rate if you ask me, but who am I to judge?
OK. I have got to figure out what to do for the little guy's birthday.  Probably spanking him is clear out of the question.  And when they grow up and leave home, momma is no longer responsible for his every thing like when he was a baby.

But gee, I kind of miss those days.!

Got to weigh in on this one!

Texting while driving?  Are you guilty of that!  Oh, I got to tell you, most of the people in this town are not capable of driving when they focus full attention on the road!  The sure are not able to carry on a conversation with someone in the car let alone on the phone and drive with any responsibility.  So now lets give them a teeny tiny typewriter and turn them loose on the public.  I am very happy to see that finally the National News is picking this up and running with it.  Why is eveyone so far behind me and I am not that bright?
Now under no conditions do I think the American public that is doing the yapping and texting while driving are responsible for this!  No!  I blame Obama!  Well, not really, but the poor guy gets it for everything else, so just wanted to throw that out as an option.
I do blame Technology.  We can put a man on the moon.  We can put a computer in a device that is 3 inches by 5 inches and an eighth of an inch thick and capable of flashing a missive around the world in 2 seconds, but we can not stop an idiot from using it while driving down the road and 75 miles an hour.  That is almost faster than the speed of light!  It has been stated that it takes 10 to 20 seconds of having your eyes focused on the screen to send a short message.  And then read the return.  Lot can happen in just a few seconds.  Hell, I have conceived in less time then that!
In my usual haphazard way of watching the news I did see that a national something or other has a campaign going showing the last message on the cell phone before hitting a brick wall.  Real important stuff like YEAH, lol, yes, no. And that could not have waited?  I am with them on the ban of these devices while driving.  I am also in favor of enforcing that law.  I would go further and say I am in favor of us drivers who do not do this being able to enforce it also.  If I see someone texting while driving, I should be able to pull out my gun and shoot them.  Or ram them and knock them off the road.  Oh, do I sound a bit radical?  Well, I hate that, but I also hate coming on a twisted mess of metal that was once a car and seeing the body bag being carried off to the ambulance.  See the sad part about this whole selfish mess is it is not always the guy with his finger on the phone that is in the bag.  Sometimes it is the little old lady setting at the stop sign thinking about church on Sunday.  Or the silly boy who thought just cause he was in the cross walk that he was protected. 
I have got to get a sticker for my car that says. HANG UP AND DRIVE.  I doubt that will work though.  I been giving them the one fingered Hawaiian good luck sign and they don't see that.  So for today, this is just my humble opinion.  Don't text and drive and don't talk and drive should be as simple to remember as don't drink and drive. 
Laters!

My first Christmas as a single mom, I think.

I do not remember just when I left the kids dad, but as I recall not much changed.  I was in Hutch and immediately went to work at Skaets Steak Shop as a waitress.  That was the good part about Skaet.  When I was first out on my own, I washed dishes at Skaets for a man named Norman Duschene who was the man who first started the place.  After that there were other owners, but always a Bartholomew working in some capacity there.  So when I left the husband and returned to Hutchinson, it was only natural that I go to work at Skaets.  I think my sister Donna was there at that time.  My  mother was working at the Red Rooster.  Ruth and Al Herrington were the owners than.  I had never waited tables in my life, but I told them how experienced I was and they put me right to work. 
Now I do recall that both Duane and I were having a little problem adjusting to this not being married stuff.  I do not remember when we actually divorced, but we surely must have.  The first Christmas I loaded the kids in the car and drove the 130 miles to his mom's house.  Some how one of us missed the memo and he went to Hutchinson to my empty house.  At that time he lived in Garden City.  Hey!  It has been a long time and a lot of water under the bridge, you know.  I know the first year and a half was pretty confusing.  We at one point, well several points actually, reconciled.  I left Skaets and went to the Red Rooster where I met Gilbert who was a good friend of mothers and he and I became friends.  I did not stay there very long because I was offered a job as short order cook at the Red Carpet by Bob Bailey.  That was a dream come true, because I had always wanted to be a cook.  So I bade the Red Rooster good bye and embarked  on to greener pastures.
So now we are to the second Christmas.  Duane did not come for this one.  My dear Gibby helped me shop and then he played Santa.  A note here about Gilbert.  We always knew he was  gay.  But we loved that boy.  He was so much fun and so kind.  Later he was to move to California and be one of the first of many to die of AIDS.  He became infected after I moved to Colorado and when I left Hutch I never saw him again.  He did keep in touch and we planned to meet for Thanksgiving the year he died.  Bad timing.
But back to Christmas.  We had bought a miniature doll house for the girls.  Metal.  And it needed to be assembled which entailed folding out little metal tabs, putting them in a slot and folding them down.  Well, we put the kids to bed and then decided maybe we should have a little eggnog with just a touch of Rum to celebrate the season.  Let me be the first to say, sharp metal tabs, pointy pliers and eggnog laced with Rum is not a good combination.  Nor is a couple drunks trying to climb a ladder and decorate a tall Christmas tree.  In all fairness I must say I never dreamed a Christmas tree had that many pokey things on it and I would never have guessed how much blood you can smear on the little red wagon and the tinsel without some body passing out.  How those kids slept through all that was more than I will ever know.  Course Gib had to spend the night because he was too drunk to walk to the car.  I actually slept under the tree since that was where I ran out of steam.  I think he must have called someone to come get him cause he was gone the next morning.
The kids were thrilled that Santa had actually came and did all he did.  Man so was I.  He almost bankrupted me, but the kids were happy. 
Lot happened there at 217 West 5th.  Some good, some bad.  I became manager of the Red Carpet, but restaurant work is rarely permanent.  I left the Red Carpet and bought a place on 4th right across from MacDonalds.  Named that one Lou's Kitchen  Had that for a year and then fell in love and moved to Colorado.  Course I fell out of love as quickly as I had fallen in, but such is life.  Colorado has been good to me.  I graduated college with a gold cord.  Married a couple guys, one of which is the one I should have married in the first place.  Helped start a construction company; well actually two construction companies.  Started a trucking company.  I have friends and I have people who tolerate me and I have a driving need to keep moving and changing, which I suppose is good, for the most part.  I think this next year I am going to start downsizing.  Who knows what that means exactly?  Just hang with me and find out!  But first I have to get through this Christmas.

Maybe it is time to rethink the Santa thing!

I have once more been called a Grinch.  Now why do people do that?  I am not a Grinch.  I think Christmas is wonderful.  Or at least the part about the baby Jesus.  And the wise men.  And the shepherds.  I like the Christmas tree and the carols and all that stuff.  What I have a problem with is the commercialism.  Black Friday, Super Saturday, Something Monday.  How much are sales up?  How much are sales down?
I remember the last Christmas that I thought the presents were from Santa.  For years I had written the letter to Santa telling him how bad I wanted a dolly.  Dolly's were different than as opposed to now.  They had plastic legs and arms and a hard plastic head.  And if you got a really good one it would cry when you tilted it back and then it would close it's eyes.  I finally got the dolly. And  I loved that dolly.  And I could not figure out how she knew to close her eyes.  Unfortunately for dear dolly, neither could my brother, Jake.  But he had a solution for that.  Little tap on the back of the head with the hammer and all Dolly's secrets were revealed.  There were weights that caused her eyes to close.  And in all fairness he did try to glue the back of her head back on, but she was just never the same.  And since he had pretty well performed a patrial lobotomy on her, it was just another step to rip her stomach open and see what made her cry.  That was a sort of thing that when you laid her down, air went through an opening and made her cry. 
Now Jake did make me promise that I would not tell mother what he had done.  But mother's have a way of finding this stuff out.  I tried to tell her that I had done it, because I knew he was going to get a licking.  I was a girl so I did not get punished like the boy did.  And mother never did it herself.  Maybe Dad did.  I don't remember.  I do know he got in very bad trouble.  I could not understand why Mother was so upset.  It had come from Santa, but you would have thought it came out of her pocket.  Hmmm.
But that is not the Christmas gift I remember the most.  The last one I remember and it will always stick in my mind was simply a book, a red ball, an orange and some candy in a sack.  I  think I remember it most because that was the year I made the connection with momma and Santa Claus.  All the years that I thought he was so wonderful, he did not even exist.  My mother was putting money away a little at a time so us little ragamuffins could get something from Santa.
Santa has been going around garnering praise for all these years while mothers and fathers do without so he can get the glory.  I did it for my kids and in keeping with the season, I am going to tell about some of the Christmas's for my little kiddies.  I am not real proud of all of them, but they are what they are.  It is hard to hide the truth for very long.  So let me get my head together and I will share with you a few of the Seeger Family Christmases!

And this is why Country Music will be around when I am gone.

I had a friend, key word here is "had", who explained to me that country was not an acceptable venue as far as the true music fans went.  He further went on to explain to me that the others in the Music Chat room on eBay had never tolerated Country until I came along and were only doing so because I was well liked in the room and had become buddies with some of the old timers.  Well, the Chat rooms on eBay are now history, but I still hang out with a few of those who were in there.  We have located to another chat room outside of eBay so we are all good to go.  Unfortunately I do not have the friend who said that to me, but I do still have Country Music.  And that is just why Country is here at my house and it always will be. 
See us country women do not have to dress up to the nines to go out.  We are just as at home in a pair of cut offs as the city girls are in silk and satin.  Some times we do like to "put on the dog" just to show the "good old boys" that it can be done.  We could stand around in a shimmery gown with our hair piled up high and hold a martini glass and you would never know we were hicks.  That is the beauty of country girls.  Try bringing your fancy ladies down to the farm to wrestle a baby calf away from it's momma, or throw the hay over the fence to the horse.  Ain't gonna happen, is it?  Your women don't like the smell of manure, but to us old country gals it is the smell of freedom and a steak on the grill.
And when you listen to the music that you listen to, does it tie your guts up in a knot?  I don't think so.  When we sing, we sing of heartache, pain, death, lust, happiness, tears and laughter.  Oh, yeah, and prison.  Our music has words that can wring tears out of the hardest heart.  I listen to yours and I have to try to identify the various instruments and then of course there is that other kind about "Whose yo' momma?" or "Who Let the Dogs Out?" God help me if I ever ended up at the Opera.  Oh, but then there is the "Grand Old Opera" isn't there?  My music tells a story of my roots and it doesn't pull any punches.  Give me a man whose left hand is calloused and I will give you a guitar picker.  I tried to learn to play the guitar once and my fingers were so sore that I gave it up.  And it did not matter that my teacher kissed them, they still hurt. 
Now I think it is fine that you like your music and I do not dispute your right to that, but leave me alone with Willie and Waylon and the boys and a little Hank and Lefty and we will be good to go, cause I gotta tell you this  Redneck Woman  is here to stay!  Hell Ya!  Hell Ya!