Welcome to Pueblo, Colorado, Westboro Baptist Church!!

Here is the front of the Pueblo County Courthouse where Bo Ortiz foams at the mouth to  marry fag dogs!!!

It was snowing like the dickens when I left the house this morning to attend the counter rally at the court house.  Like a whole bunch of other people, it was a call that could not go unanswered.  When it was time to  have the speakers (I was included in that venue) we all moved inside.  I am anxiously awaiting a head count. I have no idea how many people were there, but when we went to walk around the court house we marched 3-4 abreast and covered the whole area around the courthouse.

Westboro had 6.  We were not allowed to go that direction.  The told us to move right along, but did let me point my camera in the direction of the group.  That might be one on the other side of the fence.  Now, you all know I am a pacifist, so I would have been very kind to them, but since I did not see any, I could not "spread the love".

".

This is my son Bret and Misha, his boss who owns Heritage Organics.  I am on the end wearing my "cicil disobedience shirt, other wise known as a "tie dye."

Here is Janet Altmann and myself being very, very good.

But if you want to know what a show of solidarity looks like, please enjoy these pictures.

 They were even hanging from the balcony around the rotunda!

Westboro did not linger long!  All in all, it was sure worth the trip onto town during a blinding blizzard.  I am going to pop this over on youtube and will put a link on here.  I am, in the meantime counting this as a great day.  

And if you missed my speech, here it is in it's entirety!

The gay rights movement in the US is often traced to June 27, 1969, in New York City, when police raided a Greenwich Village bar, the Stonewall Inn, and bar patrons rebelled in protest. Seven years later, in 1976, in Dade County, Florida, Anita Bryant led the first religious campaign against gay rights.
In Colorado an amendment was placed on the ballot in 1992 by a religious group centered in Colorado Springs. 
Amendment 2 reads as follows:
"Neither the State of Colorado, through any of its branches or departments, nor any of its agencies, political subdivisions, municipalities or school districts, shall enact, adopt or enforce any statute, regulation, ordinance or policy whereby homosexual, lesbian, or bisexual orientation, conduct, practices or relationships shall constitute or otherwise be the basis of, or entitle any person or class of persons to have or claim any minority status, quota preferences, protected status or claim of discrimination. This Section of the [Colorado] Constitution shall be self-executing."
At that time there were 2 little gay guys in Pueblo, Colorado.  Fortunately there were also two or 3 mothers and a friend who had lost a friend to AIDS in a loosely held group known as PFLAG.  I found them in 1990 when they were meeting in the basement of the old Red Cross building on Pueblo Boulevard in an unmarked room to protect our identity.  Yep I was one of them.  We spoke out against Amendment 2, but in hushed tones.  We put up NO on 2 signs and they were promptly torn down.
The amendment was passed by a majority of Colorado voters in November 1992, and was to take effect on January 15, 1993. The American Civil Liberties Union, Lambda Legal Defense Fund, the cities of Boulder, Aspen, and Denver, and individual plaintiffs joined forces under the leadership of attorney Jean Dubofsky, a former Colorado Supreme Judicial Court judge, and filed a motion in Denver District Court seeking to enjoin the governor and state of Colorado from enforcing Amendment 2. On January 15, 1993, Judge Jeffrey Bayless granted a preliminary injunction, giving the plaintiffs the first victory in a legal struggle over the constitutionality of Amendment 2. That injunction was later made permanent, but was then appealed to the US Supreme Court.
Now SCEA members!  Listen up.  On the night of the election, when Amendment 2 passed with a clear majority a phone tree went into action and a business on Elizabeth Street opened for a gathering of probably 50-60 gay people.  Many of them wore “Don’t shoot!  I am really a black bear.”  Because a measure protecting the black bears had passed. 
Out of that meeting grew a need to protect our gay friends.  We knew we must let people know that gay existed and existed in Pueblo Colorado.  A group was formed at that time and christened with the name “Pueblo After 2.”  Our symbol was an upside down pink triangle.  We quietly infiltrated the straight world.  The pioneers in this movement were the 2 gay guys, Joe Roderick and our Beloved late David Hackenberry.  Thanks also to Donna, Carolyn, Warren, and the list goes on and on.  As gay people came out of the closet and awareness swept Pueblo and all of Colorado.  When amendment 2 was faded in the background we became politically active and needed a new name.  Up jumped Southern Colorado Equality Alliance.  From that came Out Front Youth Group, and other splinter groups that are now respected and do many good works.  I never thought I would live to see a gay pride parade, but now I actually participate.
We did not get where we are by violence, hatred or intimidating people.  Westboro Baptist Church would have us stoop to their level, but we will not.  We are equal citizens of this great country and we are treated as equals not because of a law, but because we are equal.  I thank Gilbert Ortiz for standing with our friends and family against the forces of evil.
SCEA, that is where you came from.  I was there.  I am a charter lifetime member of Pueblo After 2 and am supposed to get the newsletter from you, but you have forgotten about your roots.  So I just wanted to remind you.

http://youtu.be/hgpZCE6yhYw

Hard working hands and a heart of gold have gone to rest.

Jeannine Lamb

December 21, 2014

Once more our hearts have been broken.  Pastor Jeannine has gone to her final rest, but she does leave us with a legacy of hope, charity, forgiveness and a fire in our bellies!  When she came to us several years back our church was in turmoil as was the United Church of Christ across town.  She came into a "shared ministry" and she was the "shared minister".  Many hills and valleys later she was all ours!

Very seldom do I  find a minister with whom I can work hand in hand, but Jeannine filled needs in me that I did not even know I had.  She challenged me in areas where I did not even know I was lacking.  Under her guidance our church began to grow.  Our people began to thrive.  Any time the church had a function, she was there.  Mother's Day Out which is our pre-school program was the bright spot of her day as she loved the chidren.  

My first official fundraiser for the church was last May and was a high tea.  Pastor was there as a server and she worked tirelessly.  It was a rousing success!  Our soup and bread Lenten Lunches were her idea and she was the server for those.  Clean-up day found Pastor in her jeans and gloves.  From the craft/bake sale to Sunday morning Navajo Taco's or biscuits and gravy, she was there.  World AIDS day found her as our religious center.  She learned early how to handle me!  A simple "Gee, I think I would have done it this way," brought me to heel very quickly and left me thinking it was my idea.  A true master, that woman!

There was no task she would not under take, but yesterday morning when the choir at First Congregational Church marched down the aisle to sing for the very first time, it brought a tear to many eyes.  First Church has not had a choir for many years, but we do now!  Ken Joyal sat at the piano as the organ got a short rest.  The voices that rose to heaven yesterday reached the ears of God and our dear Jeannine and I know she smiled down.  I winked at her and I know that while she may be gone from our sight, she is not gone from our church.  I know that her and my dear Sammi Cody and all the saints that have gone before will lead us to a higher plain and our church will thrive and once more be a vital part of this community.  How can we fail?  We have a congregation held together by love and respect and angels in heaven smiling down at us!  How can we go wrong?

The day is finally here!

http://alongthemalecon.blogspot.com

I was so excited to see on the news yesterday that Cuba is once more open to us.  My God!  I can remember way back in the dim recesses of my mind when the embargo was placed on Cuba.  I go to the store and find "Made in China", "made in Mexico",  "Made in Taiwan".  I watch the shows on child labor in these countries and hear the atrocities that go on inside these borders and then look at a country 90 miles off our coast that has been ostracized for 50 years and I do not even remember what they did.
I do know that when Sherman was alive he wanted a real Cuban cigar.  Just one before he died.  I do not remember how much that cost on the black market.  Oh, wait.  That is not illegal any more, is it?  And these buses loaded with medical and educationnal materials aren't either, are they?

I do not even remember when this picture was taken.

I see we are releasing 3 prisoners.  There were 5.  The Cuban 5.  I assume that a couple of them could have died.  I will need to look into that.  

But for now, it is enough that we are finally after 53 years doing something.  I am glad Allan Gross is home.  I am glad that the Cuban cigar is now resting in it's place of honor in St. Louis.  I am also very happy that my friends, Amy and Bernardo can now go "home" for a visit.

Peace!!!!!!!!!

A man named David

You all know that I follow myself into the world and into whatever situation presents itself, right?  I have found myself in some rather odd places and met some really strange people, but it has always been for a reason.  The reason is not always readily known, but sooner or later it all clicks into place and I know why I am where I am or sometimes where I was and am not there anymore.  Am I making any sense?  Probably not.
So today I took myself to Sam's club.  I needed to pick up a few things.  I had no intentions at all of buying coffee and I sure do not buy the beans.  See a long time ago I used my coffee grinder to pulverize some dried Habeneros thus rendering it useless on coffee beans because of the flavor that would now be imparted to the coffee.  Habanero never loses its fire and the oil is imparted into the stainless steel blades in the grinder.  Columbian Habanero is nothing that will ever catch on at Starbucks.
So no one was more surprised then I was when I found myself clutching a 2 pound sack of Solar Roast Beans.  Hell, had I known I wanted solar roasted coffee beans I would have gone to the Solar Roast Store on Main Street.  It is a nice little coffee shop and I used to have lunch there with my friend Tere before she forsook me and moved back to Tennessee.  But there I stood and knew I had to have those beans.  The stock girl explained that if I needed them ground the man from the company was set up in the frozen food aisle to grind them.  It was beginning to look like the beans and I were meant to be a pair, so I began the meandering path back that direction.  Threw in a few things I could not live without, namely olive oil, green beans, artichokes, glucosamine, clementines, 25 pounds of flour and 10 pounds of sugar.  Oh, and 4 pounds of butter.
When I finally remembered I was looking for the coffee grinder I was almost out of time (meeting my son at 3 for a late lunch).  I handed him my bag and he dumped it into his machine and hit the button.  I hurried off to pick up eggs and when I got back he was alone and the grinder was doing it's thing.  For some odd reason I started talking about my church and invited him to our service on Sunday.  I love my church.  I explained that it is a UCC church and he told me he was partial to the UCC and usually found one when he was on the road.  He went on to explain that he is a practicing Buddhist and how Buddha searches for the perfect world and Nirvana.  I am very comfortable in my faith and enjoy discussing it with whomever I chance to meet.
Our whole conversation consisted of  a 9 minute discussion on religion.  His name is David and he is from California and he does the chants.  He will google loumercer3 and I may at some point know what I did for him or what he did for me.  Or maybe not.  Maybe that was the extent of the meeting.  I do know I am once more thinking about Buddhism.  I do know several people who practice the meditation thing and I think maybe I do to.  The difference is I call it "thinking about things" or "setting and thinking about nothing".  Or there is this; maybe I just needed to try freshly ground beans to see what real coffee tastes like.  Who knows.  I do know it was a pleasure meeting you, David, and maybe next time you are in this area you will pop into my church.  In the meantime, have a good one!

Please bring back the Pony Express!!!

So as you all know, I sell on ebay and thus use the postal service for delivery.  On orders in the United States I have tracking free.  Buy through ebay and track it righ to the door. Not so on International orders.  Oh, I get a tracking number, but it ends at the edge of the ocean or the Canadian border, so I am used to things diappearing into a customs office and never coming back.  Or if a package arrives at a post office and is not picked up I see it wend it's way back to my door.  But from here to Oregon is pretty much a straight shot, or so I thought!

A lady in Eugene, Oregon bought a book on November 13.  I immediately posted it at my Wedgewood office.  It left there sometime that day and arrived in Salt Lake City, Utah 8 days later.  That must have been one helluva trip  It remained in  Salt Lake City for several days until they got tired of talking to me.  It  then came back to Denver.  After due time it caught a wind and headed out west.

It then spent 2 days flying to Washington.  After spending the night in Federal Way, Washington it spent 2 days flying to Eugene, Oregon.  So 15 days later it arrived on her door step. Below is my tracking record.  

This is a post-only message. Please do not respond.

Lou Mercer has requested that you receive a USPS Tracking™ update, as shown below.

USPS Tracking™ e-mail update information provided by the U.S. Postal Service.

Label Number: 9449009699938911873408

Service Type: USPS Tracking^™

Shipment Activity	Location	Date & Time
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Delivered, Left with Individual	EUGENE, OR 97405	November 28, 2014 11:58 am
Arrived at Post Office	EUGENE, OR 97405	November 28, 2014 8:56 am
Departed USPS Facility	FEDERAL WAY, WA 98003	November 26, 2014 2:40 am
Arrived at USPS Facility	FEDERAL WAY, WA 98003	November 25, 2014 6:59 pm
Departed USPS Facility	DENVER, CO 80217	November 23, 2014 3:00 am
Arrived at USPS Origin Facility	DENVER, CO 80217	November 23, 2014 2:21 am
Departed USPS Facility	SALT LAKE CITY, UT 84199	November 21, 2014 6:55 pm
Arrived at USPS Facility	SALT LAKE CITY, UT 84199	November 21, 2014 3:10 pm
Picked Up	PUEBLO, CO 81005	November 13, 2014 1:36 pm
Pre-Shipment Info Sent to USPS		November 13, 2014

Reminder: USPS Tracking™ by email

Seems like the real vacuum hole seeems to be beween Pueblo, Colorado and Salt  Lake City, but that is not the case.  Only God knows where that thing was.  So after many weeks I was most happy to find this email in my box:

Holy Moley, it's on the correct edge of the country!  lol

Happy Thanksgiving, Lou

:-)  Jeanne

And finally, this one:

EUREKA!!!!  Silly Sally has arrived!

:-)

-Jeanne

Now I just went and checked out the Pony Express and copied what was there for you to read:  The service opened officially on April 3, 1860, when riders left simultaneously from St. Joseph, Missouri, and Sacramento, California. The first westbound trip was made in 9 days and 23 hours and the eastbound journey in 11 days and 12 hours. The pony riders Annual Pony Express Re-Ride covered 250 miles in a 24-hour day.

So am I off base in suggesting that they might bring back the Pony Express?  I figure I could shave a good 3-4 days off my delivery time.  Let me know.

In the meantime, I do hope Jeanne is enjoying Silly Sally.  I want to thank her for being so patient.  Most people would have given up early in the game.  Sure hope to do business with her again.

I finally made good my escape.

Ah yes!  Is there anything more beautiful in the world then a Colorado Rocky Mountain shot on my Nikkon camera?   Reason being is because I am on the back  side of the camera and I know pretty soon I will be in that scenery.  I, myself and for the most part,  am a heat seeking missile, but there are exceptions to most all of my rules and this is one of those instances.  There is something exhilarating about pulling on several layers of clothes, gloves, coat, boots, flannel cap and a hood over the whole mess, jumping out of the pickup into a snow filled wonderland and tramping uphill through the forest.

Coaldale did not have a lot of snow but there was enough to lower my temperature several degrees.  And this time of year there are not a lot of tourists up there so I have the forest to myself.  Well, not exactly to myself since I did go with a friend.  Even I am not silly enough to wander off into a frozen wonderland alone.  But it is very nice and quiet there.  Time stands still and birds flit about while little creatures dart in and out of holes faster than I can see them.

Not  surprised at all to find out I could not fish in this area.  The mere fact that there was no water led me to leave my pole at home.

. Now  I want to go on record as saying that I do love being in the woods when snow is up to my knees and communing with nature and being as close to God as one can get on this earth while still breathing, but I do not like the getting to the forest nor the returning home through the slush.  I also like the fact that a pickup with a good heater and a tank full of gas is waiting to transport me to another place and time.  

So I bid the little creek farewell and climbed in the cab and awaited the magic that would take me to another place.  This was only the first morning of my two day get away. I still had the prospect of Methodist mountain and a sky full of stars ahead of me.  I will fill you in on the rest of the journey when I am not quite so tired, but for now it is off to my little bed and dreams of a wonderful two days.

Remember to stop and smell the flowers!

Ah, the innocence of youth, or Santa Claus is coming to town.

Do you remember the innocence of youth?  I mean your youth?  Remember when the world was fresh and new and every discovery was a miracle like a flower opening before you.?  Growing up was fun and each day taught us something new.  I think I was probably in the third or Fourth grade when I discovered there was a world outside of Nickerson, Kansas.  Back then life was dirt roads, playing in the creek and waiting for Momma to get home and feed us.  There was no television to watch at our house.  The radio was for listening to the stock market report so dad would know how much the wheat would bring.  At some point in time I recall the President of the United States talking to us in what was known as "a fireside chat."  That was fun and we always set around the pot bellied stove and listened.  Made it seem like we were right there with him.  And we always slept better after he reassured us that the nation was in good shape and better days were coming.  Seems he promised us a chicken in every pot, or something like that.
It seems in my mind that I can remember Roosevelt talking.  I also clearly remember hearing the words "The war is over!"  I can clearly see us setting around the radio in the last home we owned in Nickerson.  I know looking back, that this is not the case.  Roosevelt gave his last fireside chat in 1944.  I would have been 3 years old.  World War II ended in 1945 when I would have been 4 years old.  We did not leave the Ailmore place until I was in 2nd or 3rd grade.  So I think we no doubt listened to Roosevelt while on the Ailmore place and I transferred that in my little brain to the house we owned.  When I heard the war ended we had to be the same place.  The memories are there, just not quite like they really happened.  Or maybe I heard a re-enactment and took it as a memory.
And what does all this have to do with Santa Claus, you may ask!  Well, I have a little friend and her name is Madison.  We call her Madi.  She is 9 years old and she is beautiful.  Remember the Breck girl?  Madi has huge blue eyes, a Madonna face and a smile that is like a glimpse into heaven.  The best part of it is she has a pure innocence that almost brings me to tears.  She always hugs me and asks how I am.  Just an honest to goodness little angel that cares about all the people in her world.  And today she explained to me about Santa Claus.  Did you know he lives at the North Pole?  He spends all year making toys.  The conversation was two sided.
"Well, yeah Madi, but there is a recession going on so things aren't looking so good for you this year.  How is he going to get toys?"
"Well, he will make them."
"Well, he can't make them if he does not have money for the raw materials!"
"Well, he has money!  He has more money than anyone in the world."
"Ok, but he is old and fat, so how can he make toys for everyone in the whole world?"
"Well, Lou, he has helpers.  Do you know he can hear everything you are saying and he probably will not give you any toys.  Nothing!  Because he knows everything!  And he sees everything!"
Well, when I found out that he could hear and see everything, I acquiesced and recanted so I could get back on the good side of Santa Clause.  This made Madi happy and she thinks I may get something this year.  I sure hope she is right.  And I do so hope she maintains her beliefs as long as possible because all too soon she will be walking across the stage to get her diploma and heading out to take her place in the world.  A world that will no doubt get bigger every day for her.

Love you, Madi!

My thoughts on the election.

To say that I am disappointed in the way the vote went would be an understatement.  Oh, I am not talking about the candidates and the Republicans triumphing over the Democrats.  That goes on all the time and will continue long after I am gone.  What bothers me is the refusal of people to make the food companies lable our food. We are herded together like so many cattle and told it does not matter.  GMO's are the way to go.  Less water.  Better yield.

I am not going to spew facts at you on this.  What I AM going to ask you to do is to use your search engine and type in words like:
Highest cancer rates world wide.
countries that do not allow GMO
agent orange monsanto

Read this stuff for yourself.  Make up your own mind.  Remember Jim Jones back in the 70's?  He made a big vat of grape Koolaid laced with poison and made his followers drink it.  If he had labled it poison, no one would have drunk it.  Now our government refuses to lable our food.  What does that tell you?  If it was safe they would paste big signs all over it, but by thier refusal to require that GMO lable they are, in essence pulling a Jim Jones on us and we are letting them.  Seeds that were once saved from crops are no longer allowed to be sold.  Seed that was sold by the pound is now sold at a per seed price.  No more heritage crops are being planted.  You have an Iternet, PLEASE use it!

I did  like this little paper.to read.  Underground Health

I hate the time change, but guess what I found!

I woke up this morning at 4:15 AM.  That is because I usually wake up around 5:00 AM or so.  I laid there for a while and had a little talk with God.  Then I planned my day.  I tried to sleep and may have dozed off for a bit after cussing the government for the stupid time change anyway.  I am sorry, I just do not get it.  I know they are trying to save daylight hours, but come on people, are you really buying that?  My days are 16 hours long and I am going to be in the dark on both ends of it.  I have been closing up the geese at 7:00 PM when it starts to get dusk and letting them out about 7:00 AM.  Now it will be 6:00 PM and 6:00 AM.  It will be the same degree of darkness and they do not know the time has changed.  Only I know now that the time schedule has been altered thus screwing up my whole schedule.  Like I did not have my mind in enough different places.  Hell, it was yesterday that I finally put my shorts away because I thought August was now over and I know we don't wear shorts after Labor Day.  I completely missed Columbus Day,  The State Fair, Beulah Art Sale, the turning of the Aspens,  3 of the kids birthdays and God only knows what else!
And now I set here with my muddled little mind wondering where in the hell Summer went!  Seems like only last week I was bent over tending the tender little plants and digging out the lawnmower to chop the weeds into submission.  I tried to do my "year in review" and thought it was 1997!  Ever hear that old saying, "When you are over the hill, you pick up speed?"  That is sure going on around here.  Point is I have a hard enough time with out Uncle Sam messing with my bedside clock when my internal clock has already thrown most of it's springs!
So, now I bet you are wondering what I found this morning, aren't you?  I found my shadow!  I have spent a lot of the past week flat on my back on a heating pad feeling very sorry for myself.  Must interject here that the little talk with God this morning clarified the fact that he had me down so I could think about some things that were a tad bit awry in my mind.  So after I told him I was pretty sure he was right about that, I got up and as one is wont to do first thing every morning, I headed for the bathroom.  The first switch I hit every morning is the one for the office lights.  That leaves the bathroom dark.  I opened the door and there was my shadow, waiting for me!  Funny how we forget the little things in life, isn't it?
I had probably seen that little fellow a million times over the years, but I had forgotten about it!  The poem we used to say years and years ago sprang into my mind.  It goes something like this:

My Shadow

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,

And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.

He is very, very like me from the heels up to the head;

And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.

The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow—

Not at all like proper children, which is always very slow;

For he sometimes shoots up taller like an india-rubber ball,

And he sometimes gets so little that there's none of him at all.

He hasn't got a notion of how children ought to play,

And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.

He stays so close beside me, he's a coward you can see;

I'd think shame to stick to nursie as that shadow sticks to me!

One morning, very early, before the sun was up,

I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;

But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy-head,

Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.

Source: The Golden Book of Poetry (1947),

Well, it goes exactly like that because I went to the Internet and stole it!  The thoughts that spring to my mind with this poem are always of Nickerson, Kansas.  I remember walking the dusty roads around the old home place in my bare feet.  My shadow was always with me and as my shadow grew longer it was closer to time to "go in".  Funny, we never called it going home, but always going in.  Always liked Friday and Saturday night because we could stay up late and play "Kick the can!".   Does anyone remember that?  We always had a can from some where and that was home base.  It was basically hide and go seek and when whoever was "it" found one of the hidden kids, they drug them back to jail.  Then when the "it" person went off searching for more kids someone could run to home base and kick the can, thus freeing the prisoners.  Ah, the good old days.  And for the record, I am sure mother always made us wash our feet when we came in from playing all day barefooted.  I know to this day, my feet are the one part of my body that is always clean.  Always without fail.
So here I set at the computer and I can not see my shadow.  I see my hands are making a shadow, but I must be setting on that little guy, cause he is now where to be seen.  And if I am a female, why is my shadow a "he"?

I think I will have a Vanilla Phosphate!

Does this look familiar?  Maybe not to some of you younger people, but my generation recognizes this immediately as the soda fountain at the corner drug store.  I got this off the Internet, but trust me, they all looked alike.  Best part was you could set there on that stool as long as you liked.  Vanilla Phosphate, Cherry Coke, Plain Coke; it was your choice.  And if you had a friend you could ask for 2 straws and share. We knew how to make good use of a nickle back in those days.

Our drug store set right on the corner and next door was the Berrington's  IGA  Grocery store.  Flemings grocery was on the other corner.  So you walked in the front door of the drug store and right inside the door was the magazine section.  They do not do that anymore because some one will "grab and run", but back then all the thieves were locked up!  Nothing but good people in our town.

Towards the back of the store was the pharmacy.  It had a little window that if you could reach that high, you knocked on and the druggist would ask you what you wanted.  He stayed behind a locked door and mixed your prescriptions when you handed him the slip.  I never really seen the druggist, but I know he was there because Mother told me so.

Scattered throughout the store was things you might need like crutches. gauze, heating pads, hot water bottles, mineral oil, epsom salts and other stuff to which a 10 year old girl pays no attention.  And the lady who held sway, kept order in the store, mixed the drinks at the soda fountain, and generally scared the living pee wadding out of us was a lady named Neva.  Dear Neva had been born with one eye that looked upward and to the right.  We were never sure if she could see out of this eye, but we were sure that we would do nothing wrong in case she could.

It used to be the greatest thing in the world to have the nickle and know we could go to the drug store.  I was not alone in my thirst for knowledge held by the magazines on the rack inside the door.  Back then there were a couple "rags" named Modern Romance and True Story.  Now inside these pages was some hot stuff.  It I was really fast, I could locate one of them and open to a paragraph and read about "married love" before Neva spotted me and asked "Are you gonna buy that?"  To which I always put the book back and headed for the soda fountain.

Back in those days places were clean and friendly.  I might be the only one in there and I could set for hours and dream away while twirling my straw in an empty glass.  If a customer came in, though, I knew they were getting busy and it was time to leave.  I wonder if that drug store is still there?  I may just take a trip back down memory lane some day.  It has only been 60 years, so I think it should still be there.  Probably Neva does not work there any more and I bet the new druggist does not even know what a "mortar and pestle" is. Not sure I have that right my own self!

I think I will stop by the magazine rack and see if they still have those romance magazines.  Pretty sure the price has gone up, but I would like to just peek inside and see what kind of "married" love is going on nowdays.  Until then

Keep your powder dry!

You can run into about anybody over at Janet's house!

And, as promised, I wandered off to Janet Altman's  house.  Now I tried very hard to talk myself out of taking a day off with my busy schedule, but I lost that arguement.  Janet and I do not get together very often since we are both very busy women with full schedules and an opening has to be forged rather than taken for granted.    Since this time was her turn to cook, I knew I was in for a treat.  Janet cooks the actual German cuisine and it is to friggin' die for.  On the menu for today was Rouladen served over freshly made Spaetzle Dumplings.  This is one of those cases where a picture is worth a thousand words and one taste is a sky rocket trip to heaven.   But let me first explain the fork.  If you will notice it has 5 tines.  It is a German made fork, as is the nice.  The knife is not serated, but is sharp and balanced in your hand.  Germany knows how to make silver ware that not only is a joy to use, but lasts forever.  Of course it is nothing like the set I picked up at the garage sale last winter.  I am afraid that this is probably something I am going to want again.  But the story does not end here.

I had barely gotten in the door and Janet filled me in on the fundraiser she was attending tonight when the phone rang and the gentleman on the other  end of the phone told her he had some pictures to drop off for the fundraiser and could he drop by soonly?  Janet, being the ever gracious hostess invited him to lunch and he said OK, since it was lunch time, but that he would not be staying to o long and he had a friend with him.  Imagine my surprise when the drop in guest turned out to be none other then Ed Posa!  I have worshipped that man since I first saw his work. These are the two picutres he was dropping off for the fundraiser at the Senate and I can not remember who it was for.  Damn!  Why don't I ever listen?

For those of you who are new to the art world, Ed Posa is the local artist who does the Indian Paintings.  Here is a link so you can go read for yourself.  I am sure I could set here all night and not do the man justice.Click here to read about Ed.

So the quite little lunch with a friend blossomed into a lunch party with Ed Posa and his friend, Clem.  I do know Clem was a student of Ed's when he was a swimming coach.  Course I did not catch Clem's last name either.  Hope it was not Kadiddlehopper!  No, That was Red Skelton's alter ego.

I do have to say those two boys did justice to the meal.   The first thing that went wrong for me was the battery in my camera went on vacation.  So I borrowed Janets camera and used my card.  Lucky me.  I failed miserably at getting a picture of her dogs, but finally managed it!

When lunch was over the Ed and Clem left and Janet and I headed out for our walk.  

We just took a short one by Minnequa Lake, but the day was beautiful.  What more could I ask for?  I got to spend time with my dear friend and fellow activist, Janet Altmann and I got to meet Ed Posa, one of my heroes.  

Memories are just that.

I have been promising a friend that I would bring him some Choke Cherry Jelly for over a week and once more forgot to deliver the goods.  So I was setting on the deck visiting and the subject of canning and jelly making came up which immediately turned to the good old days when we damn near starved to death.  See, back in those times it was a daily challenge to keep our rib cage seperated from our spine.  It took food to make that happen.  Course when two old people get together their main goal is to prove that thier poverty was worse then the other persons.  I usually win!  And I must confess, I have been known to lie.
We made jelly and preserves out of any kind of fruit that happened to fall from the tree.  Ever eat peach pit jelly?  Peaches were canned and peach preserves were made and then the peach pits were boiled and ended up as jelly.  Did you know peach pits contain a trace of arsenic?  I think that is right.  I am sure it is some sort of poison.  Know what to do with watermelon rinds?  Those were turned into perserves.  Apple sauce was a staple.  Apple cider was a luxury.  Ever eat carp?  Those were nasty, but after they were canned there were ways to stretch even those.  Carp is very strong, coarse and gives a whole new meaning to the word "fishy".

Brother Jake was very adept at bringing home a rabbit on occasion.  Now, I trust you know that we were always happy when it as a bunny rabbit as opposed to a Jack rabbit.  Jack rabbits are the males and are very tough and stringy and have a wild taste.  A nice little bunny is tender and actually pretty good eating.  Or at least they were back when we were growing kids.  Have not eaten one in years and the memory of what season he hunted in has dimmed so  I will bypass that fare on my table.
October 5 was my brother Jake's birthday.  He would have been 77 years old.  The one good thing about losing him is that we will forever live in my memory as a man of 28 years.  That is how I remember him.  He always wore  khaki pants and a tee shirt.  I close my eyes and see  his lopsided grin and the big scar on his cheek.  He had a habit of sucking air through a gap in his teeth.  Sometimes it was irritating, but mostly it was just Jake.
I guess it is only natural  when I think back on the growing up years  that I think of him first.  We were 4 years and 4 days apart.  When he went to the Army we wrote every week.  He introduced me to my first husband.  They were friends and stayed so until the day he died.  He did tell me once that he would understand if I did not stay with my husband, but back in those days when the wedding vows were taken they ended with "till death us do part." and were sacred vows.  But sometimes there are things worse then breaking a vow.
Jake was in a car wreck on October 30, 1965  and passed away on October 31.  October 30 was my wedding anniversary to the kids dad and my middle daughter, Dona, was born on that day in 1964.  Needless to say, this time of year is a little sad around here so I work way harder then I should and try not to put pen to paper.  Seems that when I see it in black and white, it is overwhelming.
So that having been said, I will stick my head back in the sand and head off for church.  Teresa and I are off to the Broadmoor on church business, so that should take my mind off life for a while.

I will be back soon though, to fill pages with my drivel.  Chin up!!

Goodbye to a wonderful woman

September 28, 2014

Goodbye to dear Sammie Cody

Hard working hands to heaven borne.

And left us here to mourn.

A saint  among our saviour's best

Hard working hands have gone to rest.

I shall miss my friend.   I met Sammie a couple months ago, but she had a tremendous impact on my life.  Her faith was so simple, so kind and so all encompassing that I was immediately drawn into a family filled with love.  Through her our church has grown.  We prayed for her and she for us.  She has opened my eyes in a new way to know that I just need to turn it over to God, assume it is taken care of and prepare to reap the benefits.  

I will write more about Sammie later.

The Outhouse seems to be a thing of the past!

I fell to reminiscing today with a fellow and how we got on the subject of outhouses escapes me.  We did seem to be of the consensus that we did like the fact that they now seem to be a thing of the past that will not be repeated in today's world.  For those of you who do not know what an outhouse is, let me tell you.
Way back in the days before indoor plumbing the restroom "facilities" were located in a small building out back which was perched over a deep open hole in the ground.  Inside the building was a raised plank which had one hole cut in it and you can just imagine what went on in there. Some of these were constructed to be very sturdy and actually had hooks on the inside of the door to keep intruders out while you did your business.
Ours usually had a Sears & Roebuck catalog on the floor and that was what became known as "toilet paper."  Now, I am here to tell you that I much preferred the old catalogs that were printed on cheap paper as opposed to the newer ones with colored pictures.  Colored picture are slick, in case you wondered.  My brother could often be found gazing at the section where the women were modeling bra's and such.  That was his idea of pornography.  It was my idea of what I wanted to be when I grew up.  No, not a model, but a woman with those bumps on her chest.
I did not ever spend much time in that little "outhouse" as I lived in mortal terror of many things in that building.  The first was that I could be attacked by a giant spider and I had seen black widows out there so I could only guess where they were lurking when I was at my most vulnerable.  The second was that you can imagine how fragrant the whole mess was.  And thirdly, there was always the possibility that the floor could collapse and I could plunge into that mess and die a very untimely death.
This trip was always made its most horrific by the setting of the sun.  I would wait until right before the sun went down to make my last trip out.  I have heard that motto of the mailman about how neither rain, nor sleet, nor dark of night shall stay the faithful mailman from his rounds.  I adopted the same as my mantra for my last call of the night.  It was always a good thing to have a full moon.  Course then I had to worry about vampires and werewolves.  And snow.  No one ever seemed to shovel a path "out back."  At our house, nobody ever shoveled a path anywhere.  Just put on your old buckle up galoshes and hit the trail.
Why am I telling you all this?  Because it is the truth and the truth is often brutal.  Outhouses were a way of life back then and I remember my joy when we moved to Hutchinson when I was 16 and we had an honest to God bathroom with running water and a flushing toilet, and all of it was inside with a door that closed and a lock that kept people on the other side of the door.
And a stove that was powered by gas that came into the house through a pipe from the street.  Lights were turned on by a switch on the wall.  I was amazed to find that other people had these things for a long time and took them for granted.  Hutchinson even had parks where we could play instead of playing in the cemetery.
Don't know what brought all this to my memory tonight, but just wanted to share it with you.

My ideas to the congregation at First Congregational United Church of Christ

On Sunday September 14 our minister could not make it to our service so I volunteered to assist Steve Parke by giving the sermon part of the program.  Since I have friends and family who read this and could not attend, here it is in all by the paragraphs I read from a book.  Enjoy and I hope you take something with you when you leave.  

Lou

 I THINK I SHOULD FIRST TELL YOU A BIT ABOUT MYSELF, SO YOU CAN UNDERSTAND WHERE I AM COMING FROM.  I WAS BORN LOUELLA BETH BARTHOLOMEW OCTOBER 1, 1941, TO RUEBEN AND CHRISTINE BARTHOLOMEW IN NICKERSON, KANSAS, POPULATION 1000 SOULS GIVE OR TAKE A FEW.  WE WERE SHARE CROPPERS WITH A MAN IN TOWN.  I HAD AN OLDER SISTER AND A BROTHER.  SHORTLY AFTER MY BIRTH WE WERE THROWN INTO WORLD WAR 2, BUT I DON’T REALLY THINK THAT WAS MY FAULT!   OVER THE NEXT 6 YEARS I WAS BLESSED WITH 3 MORE SISTERS.  POVERTY WAS OUR LIFE, BUT BACK IN THOSE DAYS EVERYONE WAS POOR SO IT DID NOT MATTER.  BY THE TIME I ENTERED HIGH SCHOOL, I BEGAN TO SEE THAT WHILE POVERTY WAS THE NORM, THERE WERE PEOPLE ACTUALLY CLIMBING OUT OF POVERTY AND LIVING IN MUCH BETTER HOMES THAN WE HAD.  WE HAD NO RUNNING WATER OR ELECTRICITY AND WE WERE OFTEN THE BRUNT OF JOKES.  MY BROTHER ALTERED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE WHEN HE WAS 16 TO MAKE HIM 18 AND OFF HE WENT TO THE ARMY, THEREBY ESCAPING THE SHARE CROPPER LIFE.

I LIVED WITH MY GRANDMOTHER AND GREAT GRANDMOTHER FOR A YEAR AND THAT WAS WHEN I LEARNED TO CROCHET AND TO READ MY BIBLE.  I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO READ LIBRARY BOOKS, ONLY THE BIBLE.  MY REQUIRED BOOK REPORT WAS ON THE BIBLE.  I WENT TO A CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH IN THE LITTLE TOWN OF PLEVNA.  I DO NOT THINK IT WAS A UCC CHURCH, BUT IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN.

WE MOVED TO HUTCHINSON, KANSAS, MY SENIOR YEAR AND I IMMEDIATELY DROPPED OUT OF SCHOOL AND RAN AWAY.  I MARRIED A MAN I HAD KNOWN FOR 3 WEEKS, HAD 5 KIDS IN RAPID SUCCESSION, DIVORCED, REMARRIED REPLAYED THAT SCENARIO THREE TIMES, RAISED MY KIDS ALONE, MOVED TO COLORADO, MARRIED A COUPLE MORE TIMES AND THEN FINALLY MARRIED KENNY.  KENNY WAS A STABILIZING FORCE IN MY LIFE AND TAUGHT ME THAT I WAS A WORTHY PERSON, BOUGHT ME A HOME AND GAVE ME STABILITY THUS OPENING THE WAY FOR ME TO BE THE WOMAN I AM TODAY.    

WHEN I WAS YOUNG, CHURCH WAS MY REFUGE.  FOLLOWING MY FIRST DIVORCE, CHURCH WAS FORGOTTEN.  I DID SEND THE KIDS, BUT I DID NOT GO.  WHILE I DID NOT GO TO CHURCH, I NEVER TURNED MY BACK ON GOD.  HE WAS ALWAYS THERE AND SOME TIMES IN MY DARKEST HOURS HE WAS THE ONLY FRIEND I HAD.  I THANK HIM THAT HE WAS A BETTER FRIEND TO ME THAN I WAS TO HIM.  THERE ARE PARTS OF MY LIFE THAT I HAVE NEVER TALKED ABOUT AND NEVER WILL, BUT I STAND BEFORE YOU NOW, A WOMAN MADE OF THOSE PARTS.    I HAVE BEEN POOR SO I HELP THE POOR.  I HAVE SEEN DEATH , DYING, SICKNESS, AND MENTAL ILLNESS, SO I HOLD MY HAND OUT TO THOSE WHO NEED ME.  I HAVE BEEN JUDGED, SO I DO NOT JUDGE.  I TRY TO LISTEN AND HEAR GOD TELL ME WHERE TO GO NEXT, AND IT WORKS!  SEVERAL YEARS AGO HE LED THROUGH THE DOORS OF THIS CHURCH AND SEVERAL MONTHS BACK HE LED TERESA AND I TO BECOME YOUR MODERATOR.  DID YOU THINK ALL THAT HAPPENED BY ACCIDENT?  I THINK NOT.  I HOPE THAT IS NOT A DECISION YOU REGRET.  JUST STICK WITH ME HERE FOR A LITTLE BIT.

OUR SISTER CHURCH ACROSS TOWN IS TAKING A DIFFERENT APPROACH.  THEY WANT TO TIGHTEN THINGS DOWN, CHANGE THINGS, REWRITE THINGS AND I WISH THEM WELL ON THAT,  BUT I THINK I GOT THIS FIGURED OUT.

GOD ALSO LED ME TO VOLUNTEER AT HOSPICE.  I WORK THE ELEVENTH HOUR PROGRAM THERE.  FOR THOSE OF YOU NOT FAMILIAR WITH THE NEW HOSPICE RULES IT IS KNOWN AS SANGRE DE CRISTO HOSPICE AND PALLIATIVE CARE.  IT USED TO BE THAT IF YOU WENT INTO HOSPICE YOU WOULD BE DEAD IN 6 MONTHS.  NOT SO ANYMORE.  THE PALLIATIVE CARE IS FOR PEOPLE WHO WANT TO HANG ON TO LIFE, TAKE THEIR MEDICINE AND HOPEFULLY GET OUT OF THE HOSPICE PROGRAM.  THAT HAPPENS A LOT, BUT THERE ARE PEOLE WHO ARE DEFINITELY DYING AND WELCOME THE JOURNEY WHILE OTHERS ARE NOT QUITE SO EAGER.  AS THEY NEAR THE END WE REFER TO IT AS THE ELEVENTH HOUR, AND THAT IS MY SPEICALTY.  I SET WITH THEM AS THEY NEAR THE NEXT JOURNEY.  SOMETIMES THEY HAVE FAMILY, BUT NOT ALWAYS AND THOSE ARE THE ONES I PREFER.  THAT WAS THE CASE WITH A MAN NAMED BILL.  HIS FAMILY ARRIVED, BUT NOT UNTIL HE WAS GONE.  HE TALKED BY PHONE WITH HIS MOTHER BEFORE HE BEGAN HIS FINAL ASSENT.   HE HAD A VERY PEACEFUL CROSSING AND THAT IS WHAT WE STRIVE FOR.

 SO I MEET PEOPLE WHO ARE TRANSITIONING FROM THIS LIFE TO THE NEXT AND NOT ALWAYS IMMEDIATELY.  ONE OF THESE IS SAMMIE .  MY FIRST CONTACT WITH SAMMIE WAS 6 HOURS, DURING WHICH HER FAMILY ATTENDED A REUNION.  SINCE SHE IS NEARING, BUT NOT QUITE THERE YET, WHE IS LUCID AND WELCOMES COMPANY.  SHE DOES HAVE A LARGE FAMILY, BUT THEY ARE VERY BUSY WITH THEIR LIVES WHICH LEAVES HER CRAVING COMPANY.  SHE IS A WOMAN WHO IS DEVOTED TO GOD AND SHE BOASTS THAT SHE HAS A DIRECT LINE TO GOD.  SO I TOLD HER ABOUT MY CHURCH AND HOW WE WERE STRUGGLING TO KEEP OUR DOORS OPEN.  SHE SAID SHE WOULD PRAY FOR US AND SHE HAS BEEN DOING THAT!  SHE IS VERY SIMPLE IN HER BELIEF AND HAS WRITTEN A SMALL BOOK WHICH HER DAUGHTER PUBLISHED FOR HER.  SHE SAID SHE WOKE UP ONE NIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT AND WAS DRIVEN TO WRITE ALL THIS DOWN AS IT CAME INTO HER HEAD.  IT IS SO SIMPLE THE WAY SAMMIE PUTS IT.  I WANT TO READ YOU 2 PARAGRAPHS AND THEN LEAVE THIS BOOK IN MAYFLOWER HALL FOR YOU.

PAGE 3, 2 PARAGAPHS.

 I CAN FEEL A DIFFERENCE IN THE WHOLE ATTITUDE OF OUR CHURCH SINCE SHE RATTLED THE HOT LINE TO GOD.   I THINK MOST OF US ARE JUST KIND OF PUTTING ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER AND PLODDING DOWN THE ROAD.  I KNOW I WAS UNTIL SAMMIE WOKE ME UP.  APATHY ACCOMPLISHES NOTHING.

WHEN YOU GET UP IN THE MORNING, DO YOU WONDER WHAT KIND OF DAY YOU WILL HAVE?   OH, CRAP, TRAFFIC IS GOING TO BE A BEAR!  AND IT IS.  I KNOW THE GROCERY STORE IS GOING TO HAVE LINES A MILE LONG.  AND IT DOES.  BET THERE WON’T BE 20 PEOPLE IN CHURCH TODAY.  AND THERE ISN’T.

SAMMIE  SCOFFS AT ME.  SHE EXPLAINS IT THIS WAY.  GOD LOVES YOU.  GOD WANTS YOU TO BE HAPPY.  IF FILLLING THE CHURCH WILL MAKE YOU HAPPY, JUST TELL HIM AND HE WILL FILL THE CHURCH, BUT YOU HAVE TO BELIEVE THAT IT WILL HAPPEN.  GOD CAN NOT DO IT BY HIMSELF.  HE NEEDS ALL OF US TO MAKE IT HAPPEN.  GOD LIVES IN ALL OF US AND WE HAVE GOT TO LET GOD SHOW THROUGH OUR FACES.  STRANGERS READ US.  IF THEY SEE US WITH OUR FACES DRAWN AND WORRIED, THEY TURN AWAY.  SOME PEOPLE MIGHT CALL IT KARMA, THE POWER OF POSITIVE THINKING, DUMB LUCK, BUT I HAVE FOUND THAT IF I HOLD REAL STILL, THE ANSWER AND THE ACTION SEEM TO POP IN MY HEAD.  AND IF I DO NOT QUESTION, BUT JUST DO WHAT THAT LITTLE VOICE (FOR WANT OF A BETTER WORD) TELLS ME, I FIND MYSELF WHERE I BELONG, DOING WHAT I SHOULD BE DOING.

WHAT I WANT US TO DO IS PRACTICE WHAT SAMMIE PREACHES!  GOD IS LOVE AND HE WANTS US HAPPY.  HE WANTS THIS CHURCH TO FLOURISH.  HE WANTS KIDS IN THE PEWS AND MONEY IN THE COFFER.  HE DOESN’T JUST WANT US TO EXIST.  HE WANTS US TO THRIVE!  HE WANTS US OUT IN THE WORLD HELPING PEOPLE.  REMEMBER THE SONG “THIS LITTLE LIGHT OF MINE?”  I’M GONNA LET IT SHINE.   AND “AS YOU HAVE DONE THIS TO THE LEAST OF THESE, MY BROTHER, YOU HAVE DONE IT TO ME.”  “IF YOU HAVE THE FAITH THE SIZE OF A MUSTARD SEED, YOU CAN SAY “MOVE” TO THE MOUNTAIN AND IT WILL MOVE”

I SAW WHAT HAPPENED WITH JOEY.  I KNOW WE CAN MAKE MIRACLES HAPPEN.  I SEE IT EVERY DAY WHEN I SEE A HUNGRY CHILD FED.  I SEE IT WHEN THE TRUNK OF MY CAR, WHICH IS FILLED BY TOWNSPEOPLE, IS EMPTIED AT LOS POBRES.   OUR CHURCH IS A WORK OF ART AND WE ARE THE CARETAKERS OF THAT ART.  LET US TRY AN EXPERIMENT FOR JUST ONE WEEK.   WHEN YOU GO TO BED EACH NIGHT, TURN ALL OF YOUR CARES OVER TO GOD.  WHEN THEY ARE TURNED OVER TO HIM, THEY ARE NO LONGER YOUR CONCERNS.  THANK HIM FOR ALL HE IS GOING TO DO BOTH IN YOUR LIFE AND IN OUR CHURCH.  THANK HIM FOR BRINGING NEW PEOPLE TO OUR CHURCH.  THANK HIM FOR GIVING YOU WISDOM AND THE WORDS TO SPREAD HIS GOSPEL.  DO NOT WONDER IF HE WILL,  BUT RATHER   ASSUME HE IS ALREADY ON IT.  THEN SMILE AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR, CRAWL IN YOUR BED AND GO TO SLEEP!  IT IS NOW IN GODS HANDS! 

And now I have seen first hand...It was indeed a miracle!

Hopped in the little Ford Focus and headed east into the sun yesterday.  My purpose was to see my grandson, and a few of the great grand kids.  As most of you recall, Joe Seeger-Guebara, my grandson, rolled his car on May 9 of this year.  That was the evening before he was to graduate high school the day before Mother's Day.  He spent May 10-June 2 in a coma in Wichita, Kansas at the Via Christi Hospital and Trauma Unit.  Prayer requests were flying every where and no one gave up.  I confess, I was skeptical.
June 2, he was moved to Linclon, Nebraska, to the Madonna Rehab Center.  He was still in a coma.  After tests the doctor was explaining to Dona Seeger, his mother, that his discharge date would be August 22 and that he would still, no doubt be comatose.  Joe was propped up in a wheel chair at the time that diagnoses was given.  It apparently triggered something in his brain and he began struggling to stand up!   So they helped him stand.  It was clear in that picture that while he was standing between his mom and a therapist that he was still out to lunch!
I am here to tell you that prayer and perseverance will bring results!  3 months of diligence, prayer and sacrifice by his family and a lot of hard work by him brings us to his return home on August 22.  But I had to see for myself and that was the reason for the trip yesterday.  I give you Joe Seeger-Guebara and his grandma.

And true to his dream and the dedication of the fire department, his shirt.

In case you can not read that, it says "Firemen never die.  They just burn forever in the hearts of the people whose lives they saved."  Joey was a volunteer at the fire department and when he came home, they met him with the fire engines on main street.

This is his brother and Aunt.  Oh, and cinnamon rolls grandma made him!

Yep!  Aunts, neice (who is also my great grandaughter), cousin and  mother at his side, where she has been since May 9.  She is returning to her beauty shop in town on Tuesday.  

So the men folk went on the quest of prairie dog distruction, them being all good red necks in that area and the women folk went into town where Dona cut out hair and we finished up at "Flashback" which is in the old Dairy Queen building.  I had a cherry limeade.

And then my little car was pointed West and I hit the road back to Colorful Colorado!  But I did manage a few shots on the side.

But try as I might I can not capture the panorama of the Kansas sky with the low hanging clouds that look like I can reach out and touch them!  I do try.

So, welcome home Joey!  I understand you are going to the community college in Garden.  Never forget the people who spent the summer in prayer and more importantly, do not forget the man who answered those prayers.

If you have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains!

                                                             Love, Grandma

Tower Trail in Beulah and Stompin' Grounds Coffee Shop, Here we come.

Janet Altman and I decided that we were big girls and we could go hiking by ourselves, so the plan was made.  I would pick her up Friday morning at 8:00 AM and we would go to the Stompin" Grounds coffee shop in Beulah, which is owned and ran by my friend Jan.  We had a Green Tea Latte which I think is what it is.  She made hot green tea and frothed the milk in it and then we added honey.  First one she had made and it sounded good to us.  Course we had to add our own honey and she has this really weird honey thing which we had no luck at all with until she told us we were using it upside down.  Then it was good.

With the tea warming our bellies, we took our leave of Jan and the regulars at the shop.  Of course Jan had to give us parting advice about how to avoid bears and snakes and then told us that if she looked out the window and seen helicopters circling the mountain park and they were looking for us, she would come up there herself and get us!  OK, momma!  Not gonna get lost.  Well, I did get lost looking for the park, but eventually I found it.  Janet had never been up to Beulah to just kick around so I was the leader!  Imagine me a leader?  Well, here it is!

And here is the trail!

Might be a problem worth thinking about next time is the what to wear problem.  I, in my little mind, decided to dress to blend in with the scenery in the event there was a bear looking for a tender morsel before heading off for his long winter's nap.  I wore dung colored pants and a tan shirt and a tan hat.

She had the benefit of a boyfriend to give her advice.  He advised her to wear bright colors so the hunters would not shoot her.  I had definitely not thought of that.  I might have to get a boyfriend just to dress me for this hiking business.

Janet is atune to the earth and taught me a lot of things.  Like this is called "Natures toilet paper."  I was sure hoping I was not going to have to run around up there with my britches down looking for one of these plants. Luckily my luck held in that department!

She also found mountain sage.  She beleives that if you take from the earth you must replace it with something.  She was very careful not to pull it out by the roots. She said tobacco is a good replacement, but since neither one of us smoke,we had no tobacco.  She crumbled up a biscuit and we called that good.

I had to stop several times on the way up to let my body catch up with the altitude, but other than that, we were good.  When we got to the top I had that little thought in the back of my head that maybe this was not a loop trail and we were going to walk all the way to Westcliffe, so we turned around and headed back the way we came since we knew where that was.

All in all, it was a lovely hike and we not eaten by a bear, nor shot by a hunter and we were back home before noon.  I am sure looking forward to the next one.  It is so nice up there with no ringing phone and no one needing me for anything.  So, if you are interested, hit me up!  And if you would like to see my slide show, just click right here.

Lou Mercer Words of Wisdom: There is more than one way to skin a cat or a dog,...

Lou Mercer Words of Wisdom: There is more than one way to skin a cat or a dog,...: Soon after I lost my husband I decided to buy new furniture.  I opted for the microfiber, looks like leather, wears forever, and can hold ...