When Bret was little........

This is Bret now.  Or at least it was several months ago.  Just every time he comes or goes I remember when he was little.  That was the good old days.  That was when I actually mattered for something besides the occasional  $20 for gas request.  Bret had been a regular visitor in our home since his birth.  As the closest grand son he was also most frequent.  He used to say cute things, like "Grandma!  Let me in! I have too many hands."  "oh, it is such a 'boo-fi-ul' day".  I babysat him as he got older and potty trained the little fellow and taught him to ride a bike.  He would spend weeks at a time with us especially after his mom and dad separated and she remarried.  When he came up for adoption we were the obvious choice.

When Kenny quizzed him about who would be his grandpa if we adopted him, he thought about it for a while and then announced, "Why, I would be my own grandpa!"  And after the adoption he immediately began calling me "mom" and continued calling Kenny "grandpa".  Kenny finally had to explain to him that we had to both be "grandma and grandpa" or "mom and dad."  He opted for the mom and dad one.

His first official act when he came to live with us was to shave off his eyebrow along with the mole over that eye.  Second was to throw a fit in the Library that almost landed me in jail for child abuse when I grabbed his young self up and loaded him in the car and had Shelly and Chris set on him till we got home. They called it attachment disorder and testing the limits and a few other things.  I called it being a spoiled rotten little brat.

Like I said,  he was so cute.  I have pictures of him and the neighbor kid (also an adopted grandson) learning to crawl toward each other,  running naked through the sprinklers, playing "dogs".  They broke the windows in the garage, made a general mess of everything they touched, but they never went to school together.  Skeeter went to town school and Bret caught the bus.

Now school was a complete waste of time for this kid.  I spent more time at the school than he did.  He never turned in homework and there was never a teacher who seemed to think it mattered until the end of the grading period and there were no numbers in his columns.  In the Fourth  grade he made the merit roll.  You could of knocked me over with a feather!  First and only time he ever bothered with academia!  I put him in the Church School in town and he did some better, but once again I was at the school more than he was.  I actually bought the curriculum and got him through the Seventh grade here at home.  I know he studied that 3 months.  His teachers just loved him and he loved them.  It was the whole school thing. Even tried the online school.  Nothing.

So now here he is working at Sprinkles Sewing Center as a certified Technician.  Everybody loves him and he does a really good job, I think.  At least Jerry and Cathy say so.  Sprinkles just opened a shop in Canon City and he and Amanda have added responsibilities there.   Amanda is his girlfriend and she works there also.   They are getting ready to move into their own home.  So, I guess I am not a complete failure since he did survive childhood.  And I survived his childhood.  We lost Kenny when Bret was 12 so that was hard.  Big adjustment for both of us.

As I write this he is in the shower and has been for over 20 minutes.  I am going to have hot water again when he moves out!  That and the light bill is going to plummet.  They buy most of their own food so that is no biggie there.  They do not eat like I eat.  In all fairness, though, Amanda did tell me that she will start eating healthy when she turns 20 so there is hope.  They are taking the deep fat fryer when they move.   

So now you have met 5 of my 6 kids. 

Oh, and he just turned off the water, so all the hot must be gone!  Glad we got rid of that!

I am going to do my sisters next if they will let me.  Course you have already met and are very familiar with Mary.  That just leaves Donna and Dorothy.  I will ask them and let you know!

Do they still have country roads?

I remember when I was a little kid running the country roads back home.  We would start out early and decide to "go some place."  There was Vincent's Sand Pit.  Old and abandoned and I do not know how far from the house, but that did not matter.  I was always barefoot.  We got shoes in the fall when school started and we better not wear them out, lose them, or grow out of them or we finished the year barefooted.  That was fine by me, but the kids in town did rather turn their noses up at this litle ragamuffin.  But, I get the last laugh.  I am still setting here barefooted and damn glad of it.
Mama always went off early to clean some lady's house in town so we were pretty much on our own.  Course the really little kids were babysat by the lady up the street who charged 50 cents a day.  But us "big kids" were pretty much on our own.  Now that I think back, I do not remember eating.  I am sure we must have , but who knows what!  I am still here so I am sure we did eat.  Wish mama was here and I could ask her.

So there was my brother and I, the two Reinke girls, Jimmy Davis from in town, Margaret Ayers and her brother Hibbly.  That seems right.  Oh, and my older sister who was supposed to be the one with the brains.  Now, at the time it was great fun.  Running down a dusty, sandy road in the hot noon day sun to get to a muddy pond of water that we were not allowed to cross the fence to get near.  Besides that there were big, very mean cows in there guarding it.  Then we could turn around and run back home.

Home was fun.  One day Jake and I decided to dig us an underground hide out.  We dug and dug and finally had us a suitable tunnel about 10 feet long, two feet wide and three feet deep. We then placed the boards across it and piled the dirt back on top.  Oh, that was great when we crawled in there.  It was all cool and dark.  Dark.  I got my young self right back out of there because I am scared of the dark.

Near the tunnel and across the fence the neighbors had a big tree and under it was our "cemetary".  In the country there are a lot of natural deaths of birds and rabbits and as a tender hearted  young girl these deaths needed to be attended and a proper burial was always in order.  Hence the cemetary.  Now these same neighbors raised pigs.  Really big pigs.  Very mean pigs.  The house where the pig lives is called a sty.  A sty is a short house, like a peaked roof that sets on the ground.  And as normal kids we liked to play a game called "I dare you!"  Now Jake knew I was scared to death of those pigs but he liked to dare me to jump from one sty to the next all the way across the pig pens.  It was probably a 3-4 foot leap, which was not far at all, but there was always that chance of slipping and falling into the pig pen where I would be eaten by the pigs.  As I look back, that was not the best game to play.

When it was dark we could play "Kick the Can."  Seems like I was always "It."  I had to cover my eyes and count to 50 while they all went and hid.  Then I had to go find them.  If I did find one I took that person back to the "base" and put them in a make believe "jail".  Some one would run in when my back was turned and kick the can and there went my prisoner, in the event I had actually found someone hiding. 

Another favorite game was "clod fights" which is exactly what the name implied.  Some one would plow the field, usually dad, and leave it "turned over" before a "harrow" was drug across it.  At any given point in the whole process, the dirt would dry, leaving clods.  And the longer they laid there the harder they got.  Getting the picture?  We would throw the clods at each other.  The most fun always seemed to be getting hit in the eye with a clod.  That way mama gave full attention to the injured party and the one who did it was really going to get a "licking."  Remember when our parents could give us a licking and not get slapped with child abuse charges? 

Ah, the "good old days!"  I remember going to school, but I do not ever remember studying.  I remember going to church and the most wonderful part was having a birthday, because then we got that many pennies to drop in the "Birthday Can" while everyone counted and then sang "Happy Birthday" to me.

Why is it as we get older, the past looks so much better?  I could spend all my time back in those carefree days.  We ate Bacon and used cream that was so thick it stood in peaks.  We ate what ever landed on the table and had no idea what a calorie or fat grams or sodium or any of that stuff was.  And I never weighed over 100 pounds until I was pregnant with my first baby.

I miss my mama.

In the hallowed halls of Washington.....

Now I do not usually get on a soap box here, but today is probably  going to be an exception.  As you all know, we have just come through another crisis.  Narrowly averted all of us old people being thrown out in the street because we did not get our social security checks.  Hey!  I am sorry I am such a burden to you idiots up there, but let me tell you how it works here at my house.

For many years both my late husband and myself punched a clock and collected a check with which we raised our children and sent them forth to do the same thing we did.  We knew how much money we had and we managed to keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs.  We had no deficit nor a debt ceiling we could move around.  We exhausted our borrowing power when we bought the house and the car and whatever else we needed.  But now that we are old and just want to kind of coast, we have a bunch of idiots in charge of the ship that are headed straight for the sand barge!  And to really add insult to injury , I am a supposed to be happy that they can now borrow more money.

I am sorry!  I had a step son once who came home all dejected from the bank where he had gone to borrow money for another car.  They turned him down because, while he had a stellar credit rating and unlimited borrowing power he had "no way to pay it back!"  And there in lies the key.  There is what our Congress is missing in the equation.  Sure we can borrow money, but how are we going to pay it back?  And when they start talking about a "super committee that can act alone" my heart leaps in my throat.  Congress already has more power than they should and now they want to appoint an elite group that even they can not control?  You see nothing wrong with this picture?

And now they are up there going around patting themselves on the back because they got together and passed a bill that they can borrow more money!  What am I missing here?  They are all proud because they are going to pass a bill that says they must have a balanced budget?  Where have I been? If my budget gets out of whack, I don't eat.  It is very simple.  But they want to throw my check out the window and let it bounce?  What about their checks?  What are we going to do with them?  Oh, reward them with a raise! 

You know I read about the survivalists that hole up in the mountains and do not even have to come to town to get bullets and I start eyeballing the Ford and wondering how quick I can get it to go up that hill!  I do it all like I am supposed to.   I read, I educate myself on the issues, I disregard party affiliation and vote my conscience.  I try to be honest and help the less fortunate.  I attend and support my church.  I listen and I talk.  And I live within my means.  Oh, there is one for the record books.  If I have it, I spend it.  If I run out, I find a way to earn more.  Or I simply do without!

Government!!  It is a bit early in the morning for me to start processing the drivel they want me to be fed.  So, here is the deal at my house and perhaps one or two of the government officials would like to come follow this old lady around.  First, I am going to fire up the lawn mower and mow my grass while it is cool.  That will save me paying someone else to do it. $20 back in my pocket.  Then I am going to list a bunch of stuff on ebay.  When it sells I will get a small percentage.  Sell $100 worth and after I pay my fees and such, there goes another $15 in my pocket.  Going to make some Gluten Free bread and brownies for a few friends who pay me to do that.  After I deduct the cost of my supplies, there goes another $15 into my pocket.  I will pull the weeds in the garden and toss them over the fence to my geese and save probably $2 on goose grain.  So today I will make $52 not by borrowing it, but by doing it myself.  Think the government could ever grasp this concept?  I start at 5 in the morning and quit at 9 at night.  That makes me a 16 hour day.  That figures to be $3.25 an hour.  Course I am free to come and go as I please and if it does not get done today, it will still be there tomorrow.   And the best part about earning money here at home?  I get to pay taxes on it!

Well, I must get my day started or I will not get my day done and I will be standing on the corner with my hand out.  I hope you all are as proud of that bunch we sent to Washington as I am.  ;)

Nostalgia? Damn good thing!

I happened to think back on 1959 when Buddy Holly, Richie Valens, and the Big Bopper were all killed in a plane crash.  I have to look up the date (February 3, 1959) but I know where I was when I heard the news.  Some things just work that way.  That was back in the day when Dick Clark held sway on the American Bandstand.  We had the sock hop every Saturday night at the Convention Hall and dreamed of going to to American Bandstand.  Talk about American Graffiti...we WERE American Graffiti!  I was "hanging out" with a guy named Johnny at the time.  See, I did not "date", but I loved to dance and for that I needed a regular partner and he filled the bill to a "t".  My kids would never believe some of the gyrations that went on at those dances, and most of them by their mother!

Johnny and I won more than one dance contest.  He occasionally dated and the girls were always jealous cause he always came back to me on dance nights.  They just could not understand that we were in sync and that was how that was.  I must pause here for a  moment to send Johnny on his way.  I do not know because I never saw him after high school, but I heard many years later that he was gay and had moved to California.  And then many years later, that he was one of the first to fall to the AIDS epidemic.  I think that info is accurate.  Course his name was not Johnny, but there are people out there who may remember.

But back to the three stars.  News was not instantaneous back then like it is now.  I was dating a kid from Medicine Lodge and when he picked me up that night he told me about the plane crash.  Of course it was several days before the news was confirmed to my satisfaction in a newspaper because the printed word (at that time) was gospel. Then the Three Stars song hit the charts.  Can you believe we used to actually stop by the record shop and pick up a list of the "Top Ten Songs"?  I think it was put out by Billboard?  Getting a little fuzzy here on some of the details.  I do remember Hayes Record Shop on Main Street. That was the place to go when the new 45's came out cause they had them!

When the kids were in band I rented instruments for them from Hayes.  45 RPM records were quickly becoming a thing of the past and 33 1/3 LP were the preferred product.  I had a little case of 45's that I left with my sister after I married and started my travels.  I never saw them again.  They were eventually swallowed up in her estate and probably wound up at the city dump.  Funny how that stuff happens.

Anyway, Elvis had hit the scene, but he went off to the service in 1958 leaving the stage clear for these three.  Besides, Elvis was different and these guys were "comfortable".  They were guys we could have gone to school with; and Elvis was a wiggle worm.

I guess what I am trying to say here is that I was out and about in one of the richest periods of Rock and Roll, Rhythm and Blues, Rockabilly, Gospel, Folk, Country and what ever went on at that time.  My daughter, Debbie, called the other day to express her surprise that I knew who Peter, Paul and Mary were!  Poor child!  The tales I could tell her.  One of the main reasons I married her dad was because he danced the same style I did, sort of a hip hop, stroll, exhibitionist dance to a different drummer.

So once more I will put the Big Bopper, Richie Valens, Buddy Holly, Gene Vincent, Fats Domino, Jerry Lee Lewis, and a plethora of names that I must stop here because I do not want to miss anyone to rest.  Sometimes when I can't sleep at night I walk the halls of Nickerson High and visit the Convention Center and I am young again.  That is the great part about Nostalgia, as long as I can remember I am young.  And when I begin to forget, well I guess I will cross that bridge when I get to it.  If I am really lucky when I lay my head down for that final nap the Big Bopper will sing me a rousing rendition of Chantilly Lace and Johnny will flip me across his back like in the good old days!

Icarus and her little habits are driving me nuts!

Here is the Icarus cat.  As you can see she is helping me write my blog.  She knows I do not need these notes.  I am going to write about her and she is right there in all her glory.  I lay back in my recliner to meditate on life and rest my eyes for a brief moment and she comes out of no where and lands on my chest with her paws on my face.  Then she "kneads" my chest.  I wake up in the night with her perched on my shoulder.  That is a very weird sensation!

Right now I am setting her gripped with terror because I do not know where she is.  I do, however, strongly suspect that she is off hunting.  Soon the doggie door will snap and she will bound in with (hopefully) a dead bird.  Such is not always the case.  Sometimes it is a centipede flailing around in her jaws.  Sometimes a live bird which she lets go and then tries to catch again.  Once it was a snake.  I have had a gopher, grasshoppers, mice, something I can only hope was a mole.  Not as good as Boots who was an avid hunter and once brought me a Hawk!  Do not know whose eyes were bigger that day, mine, Boots' or the Hawk!  I do know the cats hunt for my food because they love me and feel they must take care of me.  I, in turn, furnish this feline with a place to live, a continual supply of cat food, fresh water, dogs to play with and a pillow in the office window so she can watch the birds at play.

Icarus thinks she is a dog and that is good.  She goes out with me to do chores and works in the garden.  She wrestles with Elvira and some times Daisy.  She runs across the yard and lands on Elvira to get a free ride into the house.  Ok, enough about the cat.  I am off to do something that I am sure will be in contrary to what she wants me to do, but such is life.

For sale: A vacation home in Longton, Kansas!

Here is something that might interest you.  I know it interests me.  This is Longton, Kansas kind of down in the Southeast corner of Kansas.  Sort of a little Garden of Eden.  The first shots are just that.  A couple show Longton Main Street with a tree growing out of a roof, the general store and a big red barn.  One is of a vacant house grown up in underbrush that is just for the sake of art.

But the rest of them are of a 3 bedroom, 2 bath house with a 3 car garage and a workshop located on 5 lots two blocks off Main Street.  My daughter Patty, went to an auction and in true Seeger fashion, lost control and bought a  house.  She lives in Western Kansas.  The house is in Eastern Kansas.  The words logical and prudent never were used much in our family.  So here it sets and is used only when someone needs a place to stay while visiting .....nowhere. 

Patty did say she wanted to sell this.  I am sure it could be had for uner $25,000 and would make a very nice retirement home.  Not a lot of jobs in the Longton area so I would not recommend it for a working family.  But I could see me moving there and having a little shop out in that big garage.  But I love Colorado.  But we will see.  If you are at all interested give me a shout out!

Please meet my third daughter, Dona Marie Seeger.

Let me see if I can keep up with this slide show.  Doubt that I can.  But here is a little tip for you; in the lower left corner of the slide show is a white square.  If you click on that it will turn on the captions and you can read who they are.  That Google is so smart!  The first picture will hopefully be my lovely daughter Dona Marie. I think she is the only one of the original 5 that actually stayed a blonde because she is a blonde.  Dona was born on our anniversary, October 30, 1964.  That was the only anniversary Earl ever took me out for.  I was married on October 30, 1960.  (I think)  The plot thickens.  My brother was killed on October 30, 1965, so I missed her first birthday.  And when she turned one year old, she had a new brother who was one month old.  Busy little girl that year, I was!

Patty and Dona were always very close and not just because they were one year apart, but because they just were.  In typical middle child fashion, she was neither a leader, nor a follower.  She always had the sweetest smile of any of my kids.  Just like a little angel.  Since she had to give Sam the bottle when he was born, she was my little thumb sucker.  She would hold a half slip that was some kind of slick material in one hand as she sucked her other thumb.  And the first word she spoke was "lip".  My sister in law thought her mouth was sore until I explained that it was "slip" and not "lip".

Dona was always a little small since she was born about three weeks early. We were living in Garden City, Kansas at the time.  Dona lived with her dad  more than me after we were divorced. But that was alright.

She went to Center Beauty College here in Pueblo and got her license in Cosmetology.  Her dad had been a very good friend of Frank Shultz who founded the school.  When her dad passed she went back to Lakin, Kansas and opened a Beauty Salon that she named Scissorhands.   At that time she had one son, Jason.  Jason is married to Chelsea and they have two little blondies, Jalin and Jaycee.   That makes Dona a grandmother and me a great grandmother.  Her daughter in law, Chelsea works with her and they seem to have a pretty good clientele.       

She remarried and had a second son, Joey.  That husband passed while Joey was quite young.  Joey is still at home and still single and I am very glad of that since he is barely out of puberty.  Soon enough he will be bringing home a little girl and it will be downhill from there.  Or not. 

Dona is named after Duane's sister, Dona, with one "n".  I have a sister named Donna that is spelled with 2 "n's".  Dona enjoys things in life much as her father did.  Fishing, hunting, gardening, and just about anything to do with the

great out doors.  She loves animals and has a plethora of cats.

She and Patty live on ten acres outside Lakin that they inherited from their father.  They have seperate homes, but remain connected by the land.  Lakin is a small town in Western Kansas.

And this is about all I can write about Dona without giving all the secrets away.  I know she is a very good grandmother and has the two girls for the night at least once a week.  She remains friends with her first husband who is Grandpa to the little girls.  I am very proud of the way she has carved out a niche in life and made herself fit right into it.  Very independent and as you can see by this picture, a very lovely young lady and who would guess she is a grandma!

 

Dona Marie Seeger