The May meeting of the Handweavers Guild of Pueblo!

I you click on the square in the lower left corner, the captions will show up.

Kind of amazing, this little slide show.  First you see the orchid Bret and Amanda gave me for Mother's Day.  Isn't that pretty?  And all I have to do is put 3 ice cubes per week in the pot.  I can put an extra one in sometimes if I feel like it.

Then it was off to the monthly Handweavers Guild meeting.  Dona Marie had give me the teal scarf for Mother's Day and I was wearing it for a belt.  No, that would not do.  Joanne Caldwell and Carol Salas ( Yes!  I used their full names.  They are the culprits.)  decided that it should be on my head because that is where the hippies wore them.  As I recall the "Flappers" also wore things like that, so I thought, "What the hey!"  So Joanne tied it on my head and Carol took the pictures.  Then I decided everyone else should be on camera too. 

So enjoy the little slide show.  See you in a few!

Hopefully this is not a disaster waiting to happen.

Ah! Spring is in the air so this morning I took myself to Peppers Plus and purchased, among other things, 6 healthy tomato plants for my garden.  Yesterday I had driven home along the ditch and noticed that the two geese who return every year to have babies had once more fulfilled their purpose.  So when I went today I was armed with my trusty camera.  I spotted them shortly after I turned off Aspen.  I do not click and drives, so I pulled over and shut off the car.
Daddy goose was very alert and immediately woke the little goslings and sent them down the bank and into the water.  But I was determined and you see I got pictures!  Yes!  This $79 camera is worth it's weight in gold.  I took my few pictures and since  I was making them nervous, I called it good and proceeded on my merry way home.  Barely a mile from the geese, I spotted something in the field at 23rd and South Road.
I once more stopped and got out.  Peering closely and squinting confirmed my worst fears.  Fox!  No, not just a fox, but a mother and 2 (for sure) kits.  She watched me as closely as I watched her, but I had the camera and she did not.  So I got the best pictures I could without invading her space.
Now, what is going to happen when mother fox gets hungry and baby geese wander too far from Daddy goose?  I know what happens in my yard when the fox comes around.  I just have to trust that daddy will take care of it.  These geese, or decedents of the earlier ones have been having babies on the ditch bank for many years.  Kenneth and I used to watch them teach the babies to fly many years ago.  At that time they were close to 23rd Lane and now they are close to Aspen.  I guess Daddy goose knows what he is doing.
So I just thought you might enjoy this little slide show!  And you can help me worry about the babies.
I think if you click on it that it may get bigger.  If not, come on out to my house!  I got the originals!

Follow up on the dreaded colonoscopy.

It has been 2/1/2 weeks since the dreaded colonoscopy so I need to catch you up on where we stand right now.  First, I hate my doctor.  I hate my insurance company.  I am now back to falling asleep before 4 AM and staying there for 7 hours.  Libby says that is the sedative side effects.  I know they killed every good bacteria in my complete digestive tract, so I am still eating pretty funny.  Lots of yogurt, pro biotics,and  kim chee trying to get my stomach full of rotten stuff;  cheese (for the binding effect), and lots of water.  I can now walk upright without clutching my stomach to releif the ache in there.  And guess what !  Got my letter from the hospital.  They had managed to corner one tiny polyp about the size of a dust particle and removed it.  It was not cancer. ( I think it may have actually been a tiny vestige of my immune system that was hiding from them.)
Oh!  And I might possibly have a sign of a hemmorhoid!  Ya think!  I have given birth 5 times and anyone that has been through that knows what that means!  That, coupled with the indignities I suffered the night before was enough to drive a lesser woman over the edge.
So now that the "procedure" is a fading memory, I am here to dispense my wisdom.  I understand that colon cancer is a real problem and if caught early is much better managed.  So while I may make light of it, I feel much better knowing that for me, it is not a problem.  So, if your doctor recommends one, then by all means, do it.  But first try the begging him not to do it.  This always makes them feel that they are in control.  They will also know you are scared shitless (I do not mean that literally.) and may take pity on you.  At least you can always hope!
 

And my world is once more in turmoil...or is it? Could this be a good thing?

No, I am not perfect!  I thought I was and  by the end of the day I may be perfect again, but last night I lay in my little bed trying to  rationalize myself to sleep.  I marched through 6 husband much like William Tecumseh Sherman marched through Atlanta on his way to the sea during the latter part of the Civil War and never dreamed any of it was my fault.  I came through all those years, while not unscathed, my head was still held high.  Today I am humbled, bloodied, and bowed.  This is the reason:

	Member id loumercer3 ( 1388) Top Rated: Seller with highest buyer ratings Click for help Proven track record of excellent service Ships quickly, with tracking provided on over 90% of items sold Has a minimum of 100 selling transactions per year Learn more about Top rated seller BubbleHelp Opens Start of layerBubbleHelp End of layer
	Start of Layer The positive Feedback percentage is calculated based on the total number of positive and negative Feedback ratings for transactions that ended in the last 12 months, excluding repeat Feedback from the same member for purchases done within the same calendar week (eBay time). Note: This could mean that the number of ratings used for this calculation is different from the same number shown in the recent ratings table on the left. Positives Positives + negatives This member's 12 month Feedback ratings Positives: 290Negatives: 1 This member's positive Feedback percentage 290 290 + 1 = 99.7% End of Layer Positive Feedback (last 12 months): 99.7% [How is Feedback percentage calculated?]
	Member since: Feb-06-06 in United State

Recent Feedback     ratings (last 12 months) This table shows the number of positive, neutral, and negative overall Feedback ratings the member has received in the last 12 months. More help about Feedback Rating- opens in a new window or tab   1 month 6 months 12 months Positive 35 205 326 Neutral 0 0 0 Negative 1 1 1 I have been operating on ebay since February 06, 2006.  In all those years I have maintained 100% both as a buyer and a seller.  Just check around and you will find that few people have managed that along with a Power Seller button and a Bronze rating.  Ebay is a cold, hard business with a lot of rules.  I have managed to stay on the good side of the powers that be for over 7 years. Needless to say when I checked my feedback yesterday I was astounded to find a red negative on  a $12.00 item.    Let me explain further what feedback does.  100% ties in to give me the power seller button and the bronze rating.  The best part about the bronze rating is the discount on my monthly bill to ebay.  Ah!  Now we come to the real nitty gritty of the business.  I pay for all my privilege's and the bronze rating reduces that bill by a percent that is tied to the feedback.  Now, I talk to people who do not give feedback or just click neutral.  Neutral is also bad, but does not actually count.  When I buy on ebay I will check a seller's rating.  If it is not over 99.5% I will find a seller that is.  Feedback is my bread and butter. So I contacted this lady and asked her what I had done to displease her.  Her verbal feedback was good, so I thought she may have just hit the wrong button. I was right.  She did say she would get on later and try to fix that.  If not the red negative will march across my dashboard for all the world to see for a full year.  But the damage has already been done to my little psychic.  My potential customers will see it and may choose another seller.  But all the "could'a, should'a, would'a," can not undo what is now planted in my little mind.  Perhaps I was not the perfect wife after all!  Maybe if I had the grit and determination during the marriages as I do with my little ebay business, I would now be a widow to my first husband, or the second, or the third......you get the picture.  But I wasn't and that brings to mind another old saying, "That is water under the bridge."  Yep!  Lot of water under the bridge and it looks like storm clouds gathering out west!  (That is a cryptic message to my avid followers.) So today I am off to church.  I am furnishing communion today and I made fresh bread, not because I want to impress anyone, but because I was to lazy to go into town and buy it!  While in the hallowed house of God, I shall bow my head and ask him to do something about this little problem.  Oh, don't get me wrong, I do not think that God will reach down and change that negative to a positive, but I think he may do a little something about this haughty spirit of mine that could sure use a little humbling.  As I contemplate my bucket list, that is one of the things that I want to change.  That and my filing system and my will.  Oh, yeah and clean the damn car. So you all have a good day and as a biker friend tells me, "Keep your hand on the wheel and the rubber side down.  Life goes better that way!"

Steve Parke, a man for the ages.

Every so often, a man comes along who is comfortable in his own skin.  I rarely actually meet such a man, but here you see one!  Let me introduce you to Steve Parke.  And see that guitar hanging off his shoulder?  He can play that!  And he can sing!  And sometimes he lets me sing with him.  Usually that happens when he is at the Peace Flotilla at the nature center in the fall.  Everyone goes down to the river to launch the floats and we wail away.  Here he is at the courthouse steps where the faith leaders were  holding a rally to ask for civility in our discussions on gun control.  Steve is a retired minister and is often found at any gathering for anything that even faintly resembles civil rights and that means any civil right for any human, animal, or anything that comes up.

And he plays that guitar and sings for Mothers Day Out at our church.  He is now working on publishing his second album.  Don't know what it is called, but do know that I will be in line for one of the first ones sold!  Then I can sing along with him all day!

He can travel to Ireland in search of his roots, come home with a slide show of epic proportions and make us all feel like we had gone there with him!  Ireland is beautiful and he is proud of his roots!  Steve is one of the best story tellers I have encountered and I have known a few!  He is at home in the coffee shops, nursing homes, church meetings, ski slopes, gym, river walk, and anywhere he points his little nose.  And girls, he is single!

 

 

But at our fundraiser at the church last Saturday, Theresa caught a side of Steve that we had never seen.  Now I am not sure that he was setting at this vanity because he was thinking about purchasing it, or just wanted to get off his feet for a break, or what was in his mind, but we got quite a kick out of this and I did promise him that I would present him in a good light.  I at first thought he had a necklace there, but if you look closely it is his phone.  His shirt has a Coors Light advertisement on the back.  He did not wear the one I like that says "Well, just because beer makes everything easier." 

So I present to you Mr. Steve Parke, retired from the work he did at the State Hospital, retired from active ministry, but always on hand to help his fellow man, brighten our day, or pet a stray kitty on the street.  A Godly man and one loved by everyone whose life he touches and touching more lives then even he knows!

I will let you know when his new album is out and will make it available in my store if he lets me, or if he doesn't, I know how to photo shop and that cell phone may turn into a tube of lipstick!

Love you, Steve!

 

 

 

 

Ever had a colonoscopy? Want one? Niether did I!

This is Debbie and her darling Hammer yesterday morning.  It was my date with destiny for the colonoscopy, which I had fought tooth and nail for years.  As luck would have it they had driven in the night before from Longton to attend a funeral in Pueblo.  Picked the one day of my life when I was not allowed to eat anything, thus I was not cooking.

This is my daughter Patty who had driven in from Lakin, Kansas specifically to take care of me during the time I would be incapacitated, and to drive me to and from the hospital.  So, I was in good hands.

If you have ever had this procedure, you will recall that visiting on the night before was a challenge at the very best.  They did fend for themselves in the eating department, which I think means they probably did not eat.

Now let me just go on record here as saying at no point in time did I ever WANT a colonoscopy, but some where along the line it became a power struggle between my doctor, who shall remain nameless,  and me.  I had a perfect doctor before him.  Dr. Riechert.  I never seen him.  If I had a problem, which is rare, I called and he fixed me up.  Silly stuff like poison ivy, pleurisy, and the occasional renewal of the thyroid prescription.  But, unfortunately, he took better care of me than he did himself and after his demise, I was on the hunt for a new doctor.  Enter Dr. Nameless.

Since he was now the man who was in charge of my health care, I thought I should at least meet him.  So I made the appointment and we met in his office, both of us fully clothed.  Nursie took my vitals and he checked the chart when he came in.  The following conversation ensued.
"So are you in any pain?"
"No, not a bit."
"I see you have high cholesterol.  I will give you Lipitor."
"I tried it once.  Didn't like it.  Like the high cholesterol better."
"You do not need a pap smear.  Do you want a colonoscopy?"
"Do I look like I want a colonoscopy?"
"Why are you here?"
"I am here because you are my new doctor and if perchance I end up flat on my back in the ER, I want you to be able to say, 'Oh, I know her.  She is my patient.'  I require very little maintenance, but I do need a family doctor."

Thus began our patient/doctor relationship, which over the years included one pap smear, and several referrals for the mammogram (which was invented by a frustrated husband some where) every year or so.  He did finally talk me into Zetia for the cholesterol problem, which I managed to tolerate for almost 2 years.  But the colon business was just a formality of "Do you want a colonoscopy?"  "Do I look like I want one?"  In all fairness, I felt rather sorry for him trying to doctor someone who does not want doctored.  Finally he asked if I would do the "poop test" and since that was non invasive, I agreed.  Now this is where my life spiraled out of my control, so listen and learn.

Nobody told me, do not eat red meat for 4 days before you do the test.  Nobody told me, do not eat beets or anything red.  And since I eat damn near anything except cooked apples, I ingested probably anything that crossed my path prior to the "taking of the sample with a paint brush".  (Playing in my poop is not something I normally do just for the record)!

To make a long story short, of course it came back positive.  Of course I was going to have a colonoscopy.  My insurance insisted on that.  So that is what I did yesterday.  Now I am here to tell you that Sunday I was not allowed to eat food and could only have clear liquids.  Eating is my passion and I did not enjoy that at all!  Sunday night was the worst experience of my life.  I had to drink a gallon of the most foul stuff I have ever encountered in my years of drinking and I have downed some pretty gross stuff on my way to a good drunk (if there is such a thing as a good drunk).

Now, I am happy to report that I passed with flying colors, and have two pages of pictures showing nothing but the cleanest colon in town.  My kitchen floor should be so clean!  My friend stopped to see me on my way into the hospital and decided I looked "fit" and after work came by to reassure himself that I had indeed survived and was amazed that I showed no signs of being any worse for the wear.  I tried to look pathetic, but could not pull it off because I had to laugh at him.  Bless his heart.

So in closing, let me tell you this... if you find yourself facing this, not to worry.  It is a piece of cake.  If you survive the night before you can survive anything.  And so I can continue my march down or up the road with that behind me and when I see the doctor again, I shall remind him that I am one of the healthiest old ladies he will ever encounter and not to make me take any more tests!

And where do I put thier memory?

This is the braid that was cut from Grandma Haas's head when she entered the nursing home only a few days before her death in  1955 (as I recall.)

Now I do not want you to  think I have some sort of hair fetish, because I do not.  Mother had kept Grandma's braid for many years and when she passed it was given to me because I was the only one who knew whose it was or how it came to be in mother's possession. 

 

I recall the day I came home from Plevna High School and found I did not live there any more.  Grandma was not well.  We knew she had a light stroke.  It was her second.  When I had gone to live with them, she was using a walker and Great grandma Hatfield who was 99 years old at the time, was taking care of her.  I was there to help lighten her burden.  I loved both of those old ladies almost beyond belief.  They taught me to crochet and to read the Bible every night and pray before I took a bite of food or dared to raise up out of my bed in the morning.  Actually, it was not a bed.  I slept on the couch because they were worried that if I slept upstairs in one of the beds that something drastic could befall me.  I could fall down the stairs if I walked in my sleep.  The house could catch on fire and I would perish.  Some one might creep up the outside of the house and carry me away.  Any number of things could befall me, so I slept on the couch.  When cousin Carl would come to stay a night, I had to sleep on the settee behind the stove because he was taller and I fit just fine on that little thing as long as I drew my knees up to my chin.  Cousin Carl was a hoot!  He played basketball and I worshipped him.  (As I look back on my life I find I have loved and worshipped a lot of people.)

 

So back to that day.  Aunt Mabel and Uncle Goll had come from Coldwater.  Aunt Mabel was grandma's sister and she was married to my grandfathers brother, Uncle Goll.  That made all of us kids double cousins.  Sad as it seems, I have no idea where any of them are.  Course, they have no idea about me either!  I really think most of them are reaping their rewards up over my head.  Aunt Lola, mother's sister, was there.  Uncle Frank, Uncle Ray, and Uncle Charlie had all been consulted.  The decision was made to place grandma in the nursing home and Great grandma would return to Coldwater with Aunt Mabel.  (She remained there until her death at the ripe old age of 104.  She was in complete control of body and mind until just a few days before her death.)

 

My mind is not clear as to the sequence of events.  I know grandma was placed in the nursing home.  I may have remained with Aunt Mabel and Uncle Goll and Great grandma until grandma died just a few days later.  I do recall being in Plevna  and in school when she died.  The funeral service was held next door at the Congregational Church of Christ.  After the burial I returned to Nickerson and never saw the inside of the house again.  I know Aunt Lola emptied it out and mother received a small gray hassock full of crocheted doilies.  I thought that was so sad. 

 

I have been back to visit the town, but it has changed so.  The high school is torn down and all that remains is the gymnasium.  But in the gym was also the kitchen where Mrs. Crawford taught home economics.  It was in that room that she informed me I would never be anything important, because I was nothing like my beautiful mother.  And I flunked cooking under her tutelage, which I found ironic since I have owned and managed very nice restaurants most of my adult life and am a very good cook.  And she was wrong about me not being like my mother, because I am.  I just never made the beautiful part, but all the rest is there for the world to see. 

This braid was cut from the head of Bret Mercer (nee Cavendar) when he came to live with us in 1998 (as I recall).

Bret was our grandson.  When he was first born he spent lots of time with us.  Then his parents divorced and took new mates.  Bret still spent time with us.   When he was a tiny boy, he always wanted a "Kenny Mercer haircut", which we gave him.  He disappeared from our lives for sometime and when he returned he had very long hair.  As circumstances some times happen beyond our control he ended up coming to live with us and the first thing he wanted was his hair cut.  We of course gave him what he wanted.  So this is a symbolic hank of hair here.  We ended up adopting Bret and this remains in my top dresser drawer with the one from Grandma Haas.

 

So my question here is this:  What do I do with these mementoes?  I can not just throw them away.  That would be sacrilegious as far as I am concerned.  So I keep them in the drawer and take them out very rarely.  Grandma's is very dry and brittle.  Bret's is still supple and filled with color and highlights.  But what about 10, 20 or 30 years from now when someone is going through my belongings and they come upon this hair?  Will they know what it is?  I could put a note in with it, but do I want to do that?  It is a quandary.

 

For the time being, I am just going to put them back in the drawer and forget I seen them.  Grandma's especially brings tears to my eyes to just look at it.  It is like spun gold and the head that produced it is so dear to me ......