Kids' say the darnedest things!

Back when the television set was still black and white, before color came along, there was a man named Art Linkletter.  He was a "host" and one of the shows he hosted was "Kids say the darnedest things."  This was a show in which he interviewed children in ages probably from age 3 up to maybe 6 or so.  You know, the ones who are not old enough to have a filter yet and living in the age of innocence.  He would ask simple questions and sometimes get complex answers.  His books can still be bought and I am sure they still sell very well.  I doubt that Art Linkletter is still on the upside of the sod, (and that having been said, I will go check it out and probably lose my train of thought!)

{In early 2008, Linkletter suffered a mild stroke. He died on May 26, 2010 at age 97 at his home in Bel Air, Los Angeles, California.} Well, that clears that up.

I used to buy his books, but I have since given them all away.  I suggest you check online and either buy one, or check one out at your local library.  You will be in stitches.  But back to the intent of this blog.

A brief history of my life for anyone not knowing me well.  I have 5 kids , 4 of which were born over the span of 5 years, one being born 3 years later.  When I was 50, my husband and I adopted one of the grandsons.  He is now grown and I have a grandson who is almost 4 years old.  In a perfect world he would be my great grandson, but it is what it is.  He spends one night a week with me and goes to preschool at my church's day care and preschool.  He has learned a lot and that night and 2 days that he is with me has taught me why God gives us kids when we are young.

The point of this is that by raising my kids and working I missed a lot of the cute little things they said and did.  Now that I am old, my powers of observation have developed to the point that I can actually interact with a little kid and appreciate their minds.  Jiraiya is no exception.  Potty training was something I had forgotten.  Seemed like I just took my kids out of diapers and into little bitty underwear, but it must have been more than that.  When the process with him became full blown he would suddenly call out "  I gotta' go poop!  Want to watch?"  And proud grandma would.

The phone was something he was never fond of talking on, until now.  No more conversations with daddy without conversation with him.  He tells me what the dogs are doing.  What the rabbits are doing.  And he always says "I love you gramma."  He actually looks forward to our time together.

The point I am getting to is that he now has reasoning powers.  He now wants the dog to ride in the back seat with him.  OK.  Yesterday we went to Walmart and I bought him 5 finger puppets.  He watched youtube on the kids channel and when he saw them he sang the whole song for me and everyone in Walmart, "Daddy finger, daddy finger! Where are you?  Here I am , here I am! How do you do? "  All the way through , mommy finger, brother finger, sister finger, baby finger.

We had some time to kill so I thought I would visit the ARC, so I pulled in and parked.  When I went to get him out of the car seat he very matter of fractally said
" I will just wait here."
"No, you have to go with me.  I want to buy a dress."
"I will be fine, gramma"

He was so grown up that I gave up on the ARC visit since I really did not want to kill time (or buy a dress) and got in and started the car.

"Gramma!  I want you to get your dress."  The point of this is first that he thinks he is old enough to be left alone in a car in a parking lot.  And secondly, he remembered that I said I wanted to buy a dress.  The whole conversation was very mature and well thought out.

I am sure my kids and I had conversations that were burned in my mind, and they do pop out from time to time.  I do remember some of them, but there is nothing that will give you a wake up call like carrying on a two sided conversation with a kid 75 years younger than you!  They are so innocent in the ways of the world.

So, anyway, Happy Thanksgiving!  And remember to give the good Lord thanks for the bounty and thank the Indigenous People for giving up the land so we could have what we wanted!

I am now a checker at King Soopers!

I love to go to the grocery store and wander the aisles looking for what ever I might be able to cram in my pantry and forget about.  I also love to visit with the checkers when I go through the check out lane.  King Soopers is always so clean and I can find what I need fairly easily.  So Saturday afternoon I wandered into the one on 29th Street.  I knew they had turkey's on sale and I need one for an upcoming catering job in December.

Of course I had to park far from the door because they were busy.  And they are busy because they are a top notch destination store.  Little did I know my world perception was about to change!

It did not take long to find what I needed.  The turkey was on sale.  No, they do not carry bean sprouts any more.  No, they do not carry the seasoning stuff for egg rolls. And the Dole salad in a bag with the 5 veggies is not there.  So with my turkey and napa cabbage I headed for the checkout.  There I met my demise!

The few checkers had lines 4 blocks long!  Ah, but here I found "self check machines" that were waiting for me!  I am sorry but those thing intimidate the hell right out of me, but since it was apparent that this was my lot in life I approached one.  The first item I scanned was the turkey.  "place item in the bagging area" was announced by this machine.  Since the damn thing weighed 18 pounds I did not want to wrestle it around very long, so I placed it in my cart and reached for my next item, which was a napa cabbage.  No!  It repeated the order to "place item in bagging area."  I tried again.  "place item in bagging area."  By this time the woman inside the scanner was losing patience with me.  I finally put the damn turkey "in the bagging area" which seemed to please her no end!

Back to the cabbage.   Of course it did not have a bar code.  After waving it before the scanning area and having no luck, the man behind me stepped up to help.  He called up a screen which had more choices.  He chose produce, which called up another screen.  Not finding the Napa cabbage he poked something else.  By this time  I had given up totally and he continued to check my items, while I stood there mumbling about not wanting to be a checker at my age and I was actually retired.

When it called up the screen where payment was needed, he did step away and let me pay.  Good man.  He offered to "help me to my car with my purchases."  His name was George.  A very nice man.  However, my puritan upbringing dictates that I not pick up men in the grocery store, so I demurred.  Of course the parking lot of a grocery store is a damn good place to get mugged and he may have been a safer bet than the strangers out there.  He did smile at me and tell me that he shops there every Saturday afternoon about this same time.  Hmmmmmmmmmmmm.  They will probably have something on sale next week that I cannot live with out.  We will see.

Back to the subject of this blog.  I never was a checker in a grocery store, nor did I ever aspire to be one.  Yesterday I took Jerome to Walmart to buy his groceries.  Once more we were confronted with  many banks of self check outs.  He refuses to use them.  I got in line just in time for the checker to open the aisle right beside me!  Dodged that bullet.  I was out on the street in 5 minutes or less.  Jerome had wandered off to find someone to check him out and arrived shortly after me.  The God's must have been smiling on us.

I shall resist the self check as long as I can.  My choice is to shop at Albertson's or Lagrees' where they do not have self check.  The checkers at Lagrees's know me by name.  They know my grandson.  I have left my purse in their parking lot 2 times and found it in their office when I did.  They are up the road just one mile, so that is good.  Maybe they are a little higher than in town, but like Kenny always said, "Better support them or we will be driving into town for a loaf of bread."  So I do.

Course I may make a trip into King Soopers next Saturday just for kicks and to see if George is hanging around the self check looking for someone to help.  My puritan upbringing be damned!

Wish me luck on that! 

Taking the dating thing a step further!

I am setting here on the computer thinking and I have Pandora playing on my classic country station.  Just heard Garth Brooks and now Randy Travis is buying a pretty negligee for me to wear while he is "Picking up Bones".  All this does is take me back in time to the few times when a man piqued my interest since Kenny passed 17 years ago.  First know that music plays a big part in my life, but not just any music.  I love country and mostly I love the old country.  Jake and I listened to the Grand Ole Opry on a car radio on Saturday night long before television brought it into the front room.  I remember when Dolly Parton was on Porter Waggoner show while her hair was brown and her boobs were nubbins.  Yep!  I go way back.  And Kenneth and I shared that love of country.  He came home once to announce that he had heard the song that would be "ours".  Here it is.  You have to listen to the words.  And it went both ways.  But that is water under the bridge!

I decided about 7 years ago that I should start dating.  Now rest assured of one thing, that was no easy decision.  I have lots of friends, both male and female, gay and straight, but to let a man inside my world on a one on one relationship was not easy.  Sherman was fairly easy.  He asked nothing and expected nothing so we fell into an easy relationship of lunches on spur of the moment, walks along the levy and coffee at Starbucks.  He was a Republican devoted to Fox News and his chosen music was Classical.  But I am pretty sure God put me in that relationship to save him from himself and I have shared with all of you how that ended with his very slow and painful death from cancer.  To make a long story short, he left the Republican Party, embraced all my charities, and gave his worldly belongings to Los Pobres, leaving me the residual of his estate with instructions to feed the poor and clothe the needy.  And he asked me to marry him.  We shared one kiss in the 3 years we were together and that was after he proposed and I accepted.  Had we met under other circumstances it might have been different, but we did not.

Then I started hanging out with a man who would become my hiking partner.  Once again, no physical contact, just hanging out.  He was a Bruce Springsteen aficionado and I was not.  Bruce Springsteen, in my opinion only had 2 songs; "Born in the USA" and " Streets of Philadelphia".   He insisted that if I would just try I could come to worship at the Springsteen alter, but it did not happen for me.  I did enjoy our hikes and miss that part of the relationship.  No physical contact at all with that one. Hmmmmm.

The last flicker of a flame I felt was a man who seemed perfect in most ways.  The fact that he was a jazz enthusiast was kind of disappointing.  Jazz is just music and while I can appreciate a wailing saxophone, a tinkling piano and the blast of a trombone, there are no words.  I need words.  I need "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain".  "Don't Come Home Drinking with Lovin' on Your Mind." And "Seven Spanish Angels" sends me into a torrent of tears.  Words.  Sadly, this man did not know what an asset like me could have been.  Dropped me like a hot potato!  But life goes on.

And looking back over this blog, I think I will skip the whole dating thing.  I have a cat.  I have a dog.  I have a grandson who comes once a week and spends the night.  I have friends who go to lunch with me and a few who listen when I talk and see the lonely little me under the bravado that is the Lou Mercer legend.  I have my God who leads me here and there and uses me for what he wants. So I end on this note!

The road we all have to walk.

There is nothing to make one face their mortality like the death of a relative or close friend.  And when that person is younger, that really sends a wake up call.  I have lived all my life with the knowledge that there are 2 things that are inevitable; death and taxes.  Of one thing I am sure is that this statement is correct.  Everything that happens in life comes with choices, but not these to things, especially the latter.  Taxes are dodged by a lot of the upper echelon, but that old death card is here to stay.

I came into this world a naked little baby with nothing to call mine.  Lo, these many years later I set here in a 2400 square foot house with a garage out back of the same size.  Every inch of this acre is festooned with sheds, fences, bushes, trees and other "stuff" that I have accumulated.  The house is a storage area for things I have accumulated over the years.  Some of it is good stuff, some collectible, but the most of it is just things I can not bring myself to throw away.  I am going to have a giant rummage sale some day.  Sure I am!  When hell freezes over!

So this morning, when I woke up and looked around, I came to a realization of how this is actually going to play out in real time.  Right now I am healthy so I am allowed to live here in my squalor and think I am really important.  So that is what I do, but rest assured the day will come when I will either trip and fall down the stairs or up the stairs and hurt myself.  I have already fallen up the stairs a time or two, so my fate is sealed.  When I hurt myself, as is inevitable, my kids will come and declare that I am no longer capable of living on my own and whisk me off to one of their houses to "take care of me."

All my treasures will be rummage sale items.  What does not sell will be donated to some charity.  The house will be sold and the proceeds put in an account some where to be used to "take care of me."  One of them will put the car up on blocks and stored until I am "able to drive again" which we all know is not going to happen.  I have committed the unforgivable sin; I have gotten old.  There is no coming back from that disease.

There are actually times when I think about selling the house and moving into a condo in town, but even that is a stop gap.  Human beings are frail by their very nature.  I shudder to think how many animals I have taken to the vet and dispensed to the Rainbow Bridge.  Wouldn't it be nice if that could happen with us humans?  Wouldn't it be nice if I could be here puttering today and then just gone tomorrow?  Not going to happen.  Their are laws against that sort of thing.

So, today is another day to get through on my journey from the cradle to the grave.  Who knows, it may actually be a good one!  In the meantime, let's just listen to this little song I found over there on youtube!  I'll never get out of this world alive!

Rest in Peace, Aunt Maudie

In 1960 I met my first husband in Hutchinson, Kansas.  He and 3 of his brothers lived over on 2nd street in a small house beside the foundry.  Virgil was the oldest and he had a wife and 2 sons in Germany, or so I heard.  Delvin was not involved.  The same with Duane and Larry.  Larry was the youngest.  Duane, I married in 1960 and Larry and Maudie married a year later.  At the time the men were working for a man named Bean who owned a tree trimming business.   At some point the men decided that it would be better to move from city to city and trim trees and move on.  So that is what we did.

The next few years are a tad bit hazy in my mind, but I do know Maudie and Larry had a daughter.  When I became pregnant with Debbie we decided that we should settle down and be more stable, so we decided on Hutchinson.  Soon after I had Debbie, the men decided they wanted to move to Garden City.  Maudie's family was there and her daughter was now 1 one year old.  So the Seeger families moved west.  And then came the fruitful years where we had our babies and filled our families.

Maudie and I remained friends and sister-in-laws through the years.  Sometimes we were not in touch, but sometimes we were.  Our kids spent their youngest years as cousins and remain cousins to this day.  I am still Aunt Louella.  This makes a long story short.

Having given  you a bit of a background, I now want to say to the family, I am so sorry for your loss.  Your mother was a unique individual and I regret that I never stayed in closer touch with her, but know I will always remember our younger days together.  Your mother was a unique individual!  I will never think of "Aunt Maudie" wearing her hair in anything but a "bee hive" and know that her bee hive was always the highest and fullest bee hive that could be achieved.  I do not know when she changed her hair style, but I am sure she did.

Maudie was a very strong willed woman and I am sure that never changed.  I admired most the marriage she had with your father, "Uncle Larry."  They remained together through thick and thin and back in the early days, there were a lot of "thin" days.  Family was very important to her and I am sure that she was important to her family.

The Maudie I knew surely mellowed over the years.  There are stories I could tell that would curl your hair, but I shall keep those and only take them out and look at them from time to time.

So mourn your loss and then get back to the business of living, because that is what we all must do.  I shall mourn the young woman with the high, high beehive and the red fingernails.

God be with you at this time.

Aunt Lou

A quick look at my new design.

Lord only knows what I have done here.  I found a lot of buttons to click on and may have gone a bit over board.

Love, Lou

I been thinking about dating.

It gets a little lonely here in this big house all alone.  To counteract that, I was thinking about dating.  You know, some guy picks me up, takes me out to eat (and I do love to eat!) and then go some where like a movie, or a play or drive around and look at "stuff".  We could even take a walk along the River Walk downtown.  There are all kinds of things to do.  Then he could bring me home and walk me up to the door.  We could look at the moon and say goodnight.

With this in mind, I have begun to look at the crop of men out there.  As most of you know, I am well past the age of consent.  This having been said, so are any of the men I would consider dating.  Moving along, I am pretty sure that were I decide to actually date one of the creatures, I need to update my wardrobe.  I do not recall the last time I actually purchased an item of clothing other then underwear (full cut cotton white) or socks (cotton ankle high white).  I wear mostly tee shirts which are slowly becoming threadbare and grease spotted.  I own 2 button up blouses.  I have worn the checkered one twice and looked at the other one once.  Mostly I wear jeans, but I do have several pairs of slacks for church.  So a ward robe update is necessary if I want to impress anyone.  Seems like a lot of work just to be socially acceptable.

So, to get to the crux of the matter, I flipped on the television the other day and happened onto a channel that I did not even know existed.  Perhaps God poked my remote, but I was treated to several episodes of "Forensic Files".  First one was an affluent family, husband a dentist, wife beaten to death in her bed.  Spoiler alert, the husband did it because he was trying to save on child support and had 2 mistresses who needed attention.  Another man killed his girlfriend, dismembered her, cut her bones in half and scattered them in a forest.  Her head he tossed in the lake.  But DNA did them both in at the end of the investigation.  One of them was so stupid that setting up the crime scene, he had the ladder to the upstairs bedroom window backwards! I do not know just how many of you have tried to climb a ladder backwards to an upstairs window, but I am pretty sure it can not be done!

Any way, that afternoon of binge watching people killing other people, made me rethink this whole dating thing.  Other than serial killers who would kill me just for the fun of it, most of the murders are committed by some one who loves you!  These people have kissed and held their victims in a scenario where intimacy is involved.  Several of them had children! Did you read about the guy here in town who killed his mother, cut her up, put part of her in a suit case and threw it in the dumpster?  Or the guy in the Springs who beat his fiancée to death with a ball bat?  So, back to this dating thing...

It is kind of nice to set here with my comfortable wardrobe, in my little house that needs a good cleaning and not have to worry about going out in the dark with someone who just might be the last trip out I take.  It would be nice to have some one actually care enough to call and say goodnight, but it is really not necessary.  I have kids that check on me.  I have friends  who drop by occasionally.  I have a cat and a dog.

I used to walk around Runyon Lake, but then I noticed there were a lot of druggies hanging out there and I stopped that.  Now I just walk around out here.  No one knows when I leave and no one knows when I come back, but I am pretty sure if something happens to me, it will be a random act and not some guy that I decided to "date".  

Yep.  It is going to be another long day!