Now I have not thought of this man in forever!

  There is no picture of this guy.  Well there is one of him in overalls standing in front of an orphanage.  That was where he lived.  See, many years before he met my mother, my father was married and had 5 kids.  Two of them died of something called "Sand Pneumonia".  A boy and a girl.  Then his wife died.  My father put the remaining 3 sons in an orphanage. Earl was adopted by a family named Siefert.  Richard by a family named Nichols.  Gene was never adopted and eventually left the orphange and went into the Army.  Both he and Richard served in World War II.

 Earl went to work at the power plant in Hutchinson and eventually retired from there.  He had a lovely wife named Gertrude and we of course, called her "Gertie".  They had a daughter, Lorainne, and two sons named Leon and Leonard ( I think).  Earl was a part of our growing up years.  Richard moved to Nebraska and then to Denver.  He never really fit in with society.   He was never married and came to visit us on rare occasions. 

  But Gene!  William Eugene Bartholomew!  There was a character.  I first recall seeing him when I was 4 or 5 years old.  He had just gotten out of the Army and came to our house in Nickerson.  Then he disappeared for several years.  Then he appeared again.  Every time he came he went to the Arkansas River to stay alone for several days. Then, poof! he was gone again.  By the time I reached high school I found out why he was disappearing .  He had a wife.  He had a son.  He had a bad habit of writing checks on some one elses account.  And of course, law enforcement had a bad habit of locking him up! Around this time of my life 2 things happened.  Gene was locked up and the movie "Picnic" was made in our town.  I took my brownie camera my brother Jake had sent me from Germany and went to take pictures.   The assistant director took my camera and went and took pictures of Kim Novak and Bill Holden behind the scenes.  He took 7 or 8 pictures.  I was on cloud nine when those pictures were developed.  I had pictures of movie stars!  So I took my precious treasures and tucked them in an envelope and sent them to my dear brother, Gene, in care of the Lansing Prison there in Eastern Kansas.  He wrote me lots of letters, you know.  Wrote them in Calligraphy!  Practicing his craft, I guess.

  And for years after that I told people that I "used to have pictures of Kim Novak and  Bill Holden that were taken on my very own camera".  I never saw the pictures again.  I do not know where the negatives went.  I never saw my brother Gene after he got out of Lansing.  We did search for him, but the last anyone saw of him was when he was in jail in Nebraska for vagrancy and they let him out on the edge of town headed west.  Never a word after that.  Like he walked off into the sunset and poofed.  Earl and Richard have long since passed and I am sure Gene has also.  But I will let you in on a little secret.  Promise not to tell? 

  In that closet right over there not 12 feet away is a box.  And in it are my treasures.  I have my grandma's braid.  I have Bret's ponytail.  And I have letters from Gene Bartholomew to our father that were written by a 10 year old boy in an orphange.  In one he is so proud because they got new overalls.  And in one he pleads for his father to write.  Somewhere in this world is a man named Billy Bartholomew.  He may not be alive any longer, but I bet he has heirs that would like to read these letters.  I know I would like to talk  to him.  Isn't it strange how we hide little pieces of our past and never pull them out or think about them and then when we least expect it, we wake up and find our selves recalling so much of the past that we can not even put it all down on paper?  Life has a funny little way of catching up with us and bringing us to our knees.

  And that is where you will find me this morning.  I have lost so much in my life.  Friends, family, pets, memories....  I want something to hold on to.  If there is anyone out there who knows a Bartholomew let me know.  My father, Ruben Floyd Bartholomew was born in Hudson, Kansas and is buried near there now with his son and daughter.  And my brother Delbert Leroy Bartholomew.

So I was watching television tonight and I flashed on this....

I rarely watch television, but tonight after Jeopardy! was over I found myself watching one of those mindless sitcoms.  I do not remember what it was and I am sure it had nothing to do with my mind wandering back to Plevna, Kansas.  I went to live with my grandma Haas and Great Grandma Hatfield when I was 15 years old.  Grandma Haas had suffered a stroke at some point in time and was not able to get around very well.  She was only 72 at the time (as I recall).  Great Grandma was 99 and taking care of her.  It was getting to be a strain on her and I was young so I could be of some use to them.  It was a learning experience for the three of us. 

First thing I learned was that Great Grandma had been married 3 times or almost 3 times.  The first husband was Frank Miller.  He was father to her three children; Louis, Mabel and Josie.  Josie was my Grandma.  After he passed she married a man whose last name was Hatfield.  He had a son named Steven who had a wife named Bertie and a stepson and step daughter.  When he died Steven remained devoted to Great Grandma who he called mother.  When Great Grandma was 75 years old she became engaged to another man whose name I do not recall.  Sadly , he croaked before they could get the knot tied and Great Grandma just gave it up.  Said she had buried enough men and would not bury another one.  She then sold her house on the Main Street of Plevna, Kansas and moved in with Grandma.  Grandma had been widowed several years before.

In typical fashion they became quite adept at surviving alone.  By the time I arrived on the scene they were very ensconced in routine.  The table was set at night before bed.  We each had a plate, fork, knife, coffee cup, and half an orange.  This was covered with a cloth.  The coffee pot was a drip-a-lator which was filled with water ,  coffee grounds placed in the middle part, and the unit set on a pilot light on the stove.  The egg poacher was filled with water and set on the other pilot light.  The toaster was set on a back burner.  I should note here that toasters in that time period were used over a burner, not like today when they pop right up.  Had to be careful or you could char the bread very easily.  The next morning the coffee pot was pulled forward and the burner lit.  Same with the egg poacher.  Bread was put in the toaster and that burner lit.  In less than 7 minutes, during which time we ate our half an orange, breakfast was ready.  One slice of toast, one poached egg, and a cup of coffee with heavy cream.  Course there was home made jelly or jam and bread and butter pickles.  And don't forget the freshly churned butter.

After breakfast I was allowed to pile the dishes in the dish pan and cover them with a tea towel because I had to hurry off to school.  The way the dishes were done was this; When I got home from school, I would put the tea kettle on and heat water which I poured in the dish pan.  Then I refilled the tea kettle to heat the water to rinse them.  No hot water heater in this house.  Oh, and yes, we had an "out house" for our personal use.  Uncle Ray had installed a "commode" for Grandma's use, but we did not want to take the chance of wearing it out so we did our business outside.  Kind of nice one with a concrete floor and all.  When I came home at noon for lunch Great Grandma always had a sandwich waiting for me.  She also had the market report on the radio.  Not that we farmed, but old habits die hard.  Those dishes went in the pan with the breakfast dishes.

After dishes were done it was time to water plants and such.  We did not listen to the radio at night.  One of us would read from the Bible while the other 2 crocheted.  I learned the fine art of handiwork from my Great Grandmother.  She was one of the most beautiful women I have ever known.  I mean inside.  She was a very regal woman and she seemed very tall to me, but course I was only 5 feet so every body seemed tall.  Grandma and Aunt Mabel had married brothers.  Josie married Frank Haas and he was my Grandpa.  Aunt Mabel married his brother Gottlieb Haas.  Uncle Louis had cast eyes on the sister, Lena Haas, but Great Grandma put her foot down on that one.  So Uncle Lou married Aunt Eva  and Aunt Lena was a spinster her whole life.  But she was a fun old gal.  She was the one that kept a horse tank full of water for us to play in on hot days and took us to the stock pond seining for minnows with our skirts.  She died when she was 100 years old.  Haas  and Gagnebein blood is strong genes.  My Grandma was 73 when she died and that was so sad because she was so young.  Great Grandma Hatfield was 104.  Uncle Goll was 98.  Uncle Ray was 96. I am not sure, but there may be some of them still alive.  They just seem to live forever.

But what I was thinking of tonight was the piece of furniture that was behind the stove.  It was not a couch.  It was like a couch except it was oak and very dark brown leather.  It was not for comfort.  It was functional.  So was the library table.  And the Hoosier in the kitchen.  It held sugar, flour, had a top that pulled out and you could stand right there in one place and make a pie.  Now I have oak cupboards and shelves that slide out.  I have two freezers.  I have hot and cold running water.  I have all the conveniences that these two women did not even know existed.  It was a two story house.  The 2 Grandma's slept in the front bedroom.  I slept on the couch.  There were two bedrooms upstairs, but they were afraid to have me away from them.  Some times I resented that cause that was one lumpy damn couch.  But looking back, and believe me, hindsight is always clearer then fore sight, I was the most blessed 15 year old girl on the face of this earth, because those two women loved me.  They taught me needlework that has won me many ribbons at the State Fairs.  And they taught me that life goes on without a television, or radio, or trash novels.  The one book we do need is the Bible and I never touch my Bible without thinking of the two women in my life who instilled in me my love for the Book.  One was the Matriarch and the other the sweetest little lady I have ever known.  And in the picture there Great Grandma is holding Grandma up to have her picture taken.  that is something the women in my family have always done, been there to hold each other up.  I sure hope I do not disappoint my kids and sisters.  I am going to try not to.  

Bet you did not know this one!

http://www.secondchancewildlife.net/

  Ever wonder what happens to that cute little fox or baby deer or bird or racoon when it's mother was hit by a car and it was left beside the road all alone in this big cruel world?  You contact the Department of Wildlife or someone who is caring and compassionate might help you pick it up and take it "some where".  By picking it up and putting it in your car you have just broken a Colorado law.   Let me tell you where it is going to end up at.

  There is in this city a very lovely lady by the name of Nancy J. Kelly who will take it in and nurse it back to health and then turn it back into the wild.  And want to know how much she gets paid for this from the State of Colorado?  That is it!  Nada!  Zip! Zilch!  She does have to have a license to handle wildlife, but it is a volunteer position and as such is not a paid postition.  Oh, and the food the animals eat, the medications, the bedding, the paper towels, detergent, and the myriad of things they need to recuperate and grow with are all coming out of her pocket.  She does have a few friends, but you should know, she needs a lot more!

  Since 1992 Nancy has done this all by herself, but as people and animals interact more there is more injuries and more need for Nancy and her friends.  I know there are times when wild animals are a definite pain in the butt.  See, I had 36 ducks out back along with 6 geese.  Over the past two years I have lost all the ducks and I know exactly where they went.  The fox had a den about 25 feet from my duck pen and she also had 4 or 5 babies.  Baby foxes got to eat and I watched my flock dwindle a duck at a time until I was down to 2.  Those two got relocated to Pueblo West to the big pond out there, I think.  Hope no one tells on me.  If they do, you should know I am old and borderline senile!

  I put you a link on up there so you can go read all about Nancy and her good works.  Two more things you should know.. Albertson's donates a portion of sales to Second Chance Wildlife if you have the bar code.  I am sure she will send you one.  But failing in that here are the numbers off it and I am sure the clerk will punch them in for you!   4  9001020490  9

  Now, the second thing is she is holding a Walk for Hope at the Nature and Raptor Center of Pueblo on Saturday, September 17, 2011.  I fully intend to be there and hope to see you.  If you don't or can't make it I am sure taking donations.  I can take money through paypal or a check or meet you somewhere.

  In the meantime, go check out this link and you will learn that I am a very lazy person and do all my work through links and such.  But hey!  Life is short!  Sing like no one hears!  Dance like no one sees!  And love some thing or someone every day.  It will keep you young!

Here is the television shop in Wales.

View all

Get your own

This is run by friends of Alex Campbell who lives in Wales.  He is a friend I met online.  Nice guy.  Wait!  That should be ...Nice guy?
Melanie runs this shop with her husband.  Since this is my first International interview, I am doing it the lazy way.  Above is a slide show that shows both the shop and the area around where they live.  I think that it would be lots of fun to be that near a large body of water.  Alex says this is the bay or something like that.  I can not remember everything!

So anyway, I asked her questions and she sent me answers.  To clarify who is who I will be the blue words and she can be the black words.  Black words carry more weight then blue words.  ;)

Hi Melanie,

Alex sent me pictures of your little shop.  He said I should talk to you about the blog.  Some people do read it and I will give you the link when I do yours and you can send it to your friends.  That will help us both.  I think if you poke your reply button, and then make your font a different color you will be able to answer the question in the space following it.  That should make it really easy to see and I can actually cut and paste the interview.  Maybe.  What i would like to know is:
How long have you had your store?We have been running it as a family for 10 years
My Dad took it over for 2 years but then he retired so its been mine and my husbands for 8 years.

How many square feet?Ohhhhh im not sure, LOL
Weve got a Shop, Office & Repair Workshop on the ground floor.
We live in the three bedroom flat above
Nice big 3 Storey building, great for partys, LOL

Where is it located?Barry the biggest town in Wales, UK
Were at 23 Thompson Street, Barry, CF63 4JL
Just off the main high street
Barry Island our beach area has been a popular holiday spot for over 100 years
The BBC made a TV Sitcom called  "Gavin & Stacey" about 2 familys and the town which made it more famous recently

Those appear to be transistor products.  Are they?We sell new Radios
The main brands we do are Roberts & Pure
There are a few old original 1960 / 1970 Roberts radios on display to show how reliable they are, not for sale though, my mini museum, LOL

My husband does Tv Installs, tuning and some simple repairs.
But we have a fully trained engineer that comes in twice a week to repair TV & Hifi & Radio

We also have engineers that install Satellites & Aerials

Where do you get them?We deal direct with some manufacturers or their wholesalers

Do you have a web address or how can some one like me be  able to purchase from you?Brian my husband is building our web site at the moment.
Were on Facebook if you search for Television Shop you will find us

This should hold me for a little bit, but be aware I am pretty nosey!  LOLThats OK so am I, LOL

X Melanie

Louhttp://www.loumercerwordsofwisdom.blogspot.com/

So that concluded the interview.  I find this just fascinating that I now know someone who lives in Wales, the United Kingdom.  I will probably bring you word of Melanie and Brian from time to time as we are now friends on facebook.

Just thought you might get a kick out of this!

Now you can finally meet the sister!

N

Do you remember this time last year when I went to Kansas?  Well, I think that was in July and I got there just in time to see this little gal born.  This is my sister, Donna Bartholomew who along with Karen Leshure owns Skaets Steak Shop in Hutchinson, Kansas.  Has for years.  I started working there when I was 17 years old and then Donna came on board when Ruth Herrington took it over from Norman Deschene.  Damn!  That was a very long time ago.  At one time or another all the little Bartholomew girls had a go at working at Skaets.  Skaets is steaks spelled backwards.  Little side note there.

  There were 5 of us girls and one brother.  Jake was killed in 1965.  Josephine left us several years ago, leaving just the 4 of us to carry on.  I am the oldest, then Donna, then Mary and last is Dorothy.  Dorothy is the baby.  Dorothy had a heart attack many years back and actually died and was revived twice.  I will have to write about that some day.  So Donna had bought Skaets and ran it with the help of Tom and Mary Shea for several years.  I lose track of time, but I do know that at some point in time Tom died, leaving Mary alone.  Then along in there some where mother had passed.  And at some point in time Karen Leshure, a long time friend of the family, bought into the restaurant.  Karen had a very sharp business acumen  and has been the stabilizing hand on the tiller for many years.  Course they are always talking about how they are going to retire and travel and Donna wants me to get my passport because we are going some where far away.  Well, I am sure I am going to get right on that!

But this is not about Skaets, or travelling or any of that stuff, this is about that little waif there in Donna's arms.  Isn't that about the cutest thing you have ever seen?  Her name is Adrianna and I do hope I spelled that right.  She was born in July of last year and I will not get more precise then that for obvious reasons.  Her daddy is Donna's only son Tom.  He is a salesman for Sysco Foods.  And a very fine salesman he is!   Sysco sells to restaurants and other food industry's in the Midwest.  I know the Midwest, and maybe farther away than that.  

Her mother is Alina.  Now here is a true test.  Alina is from Russia and was world kick boxing champion over there a few years back.  I can not remember her last name, but I know it now.  It is Bartholomew.  She is a beautiful woman and the sweetest little thing.  Course we know Tom would only have the best.  I give this woman a lot of respect for more reasons than one.  First she deserves it and secondly she could kick the crap out of me very easily!

Donna dotes on this little ball of fluff and I am sure it is a mutual admiration society.  They also have 2 little Chihuahua dogs which are spoiled very rotten.  I am starting to get pretty lonely for Hutchinson and my family there.  But first I better tell you that when we were kids at home Donna and Mary were always very close.  Dorothy was the baby and she mostly just cried and got her way.  But Donna and Mary just kind of hung out together.  Those three mostly got babysat when mother went to work.  Not always Donna.  Some times she followed me around, but as I recall we spent a lot of time worrying that a dog with Hydrophobia would come up the road and attack us.  We also worried a lot about the Gypsies who were camped on the edge of town kidnapping us.  And a lot of time we went to the cemetary to play.  Please do not ask me to explain that one.  I was probably the ring leader on that.  Always liked the cemetary because it was quiet.

Man, have you  ever noticed how I digress?  I am trying to tell you about Donna and her grand daughter.  The top picture is at her birthday party.  I think she ended up with a lot of frosting on her.  And I bet Donna loved every minute of cleaning her up and putting some new pink clothes on her.  All I can say is momma and daddy do not stand a chance with Grandma Donna on duty.  I think I am a pretty good grandma and Dorothy is also a good grandma, but Donna is making a career out of the grandma thing!

That is not hard to do thought because the little babies are so pure and innocent and they smell so good when they come out of the bath water and we rub them with baby powder and all the sweet smelling stuff.  And when they fall asleep in our arms with the little pouty lips, we are goners!

So you go Donna, cause I have words that I remember from way back when I had my first baby.  These may not be accurate, but it is close ..."Cooking and cleaning can wait for the 'morrow, for babies grow up we learn to our sorrow.  So cobwebs you hang there and dust go to sleep.  I'm rocking my baby and babies don't keep". 

And with that I bid you a fond goodnight and very quietly turn out the light.

 

 

 

 

 

Time to start thinking about The AIDS Walk in the Garden!

It is that time of year again.  That means time for the Annual Walk in the Garden to raise money for AIDS.  Everything our team raises comes right back to Pueblo. We were the third highest fundraisers last year and we are trying to beat that this year.   So far it is just the 3 of us again.  Deven is in school.  Bret and Amanda have other things to do, but they have promised to help me raise funds.  We will see.  For now it is just us three and aren't we a motley looking bunch?

 Here are the three boy cousins that walked with me last year.  Can not seem to wrench a committment out of them this year, but as you know, I am a wily and persistent she-devil so we will see!

These are the shoes I wore last year.  I plan on aucioning them off on eBay soon.  My wiccan friend keeps trying to throw them in the trash and I keep digging them out.  She does not understand!

Ok, I have to get back over on the site and send out some more emails begging for money.  This is one job I do not like, but it is a necessary part of the process.  We are doing social events with the money we raise and I want you to know that we have more client involvement here in our little burg than they do up North.

Here is the link in case you missed it.  Go see what SCAP is all about!

www.kintera.org/faf/r.asp?t=4&i=489730&u=489730-227465622

I'm just gonna run to the post office...

Now those words are an understatement if I ever made one!  To begin with, the closest post office I can run to is over a mile away.  It is a sub station and I gave up going there because they cringe when I show up with packages.  See, I buy my postage online.  It is cheaper.  Seems like enough incentive for me!  But the substation does not get to collect a "pick up fee" from the post office so it is a free gratis thing.  UPS pays the stations a $1 pick up fee.  Course when they sell the postage there is a profit built in to the price.  But not with the USPS. 

Now back to my packages I have so neatly packed and labeled with my online package.  I have padded them and made them as sturdy as possible to avoid breakage because I know they are going to be dropped at least 4 times by the post office and way more than that by FedEx or UPS.  UPS gives free insurance for the first $100. Post Office gives you jack. 

After I pack them, measure them and weigh them  I print out my postage and apply the label to the box.  I then need to drop my boxes some where.  They have the 13 ounce rule, you know.  That means I have to take it in and hand it to the clerk.  The clerk will ask me, "Any thing explosive, breakable, liquid or illegal in here?"  I always say "No" and then I am done.  I especially like waiting in a long line with heavy boxes for this ritual to take place.  Occasionally I will get a clerk that will motion me to put them in the canvas box on wheels and then he will smile at me and I will leave.  That does not happen very often.  More like it happened once.

Now, I want to go on record here as saying Homeland Security and all that is just great.  After I leave the post office I feel I have been thoroughly  processed and my packages do not carry bombs or any of that stuff.  I am on first name basis with most of the clerks around town.  But occasionally some little guy gets himself hired and his job description seems to contain the words "must be able to piss an old lady off and make her cry in frustration."  Yesterday I met one such fellow.  No doubt he was promoted to something before I got to my car.  He was good!

The upshot was my one box had the word "Ale" on it.  Ale is hazardous.  Course it was not ale since someone had already drank all of it and I am assuming it was not hazardous since he was still alive or at least I assume so since I did not read in the obituaries of anyone dieing directly after drink one bottle.  So I told him that apparently the word  "paint"ball on the other box made it hazardous as well.  He was in complete agreement.  So I drove the 10 miles home, unpacked the boxes after carefully cutting the label off with a razor blade, turned the boxes wrong side out, repacked them, taped on the labels and took them back to town to the one in Belmont where the lady likes me.  I told her my tale of woe and she said "He must have been having a very bad day!"  Hey, Janie, what do you think he did for my day?  She thought that was funny.  Never was a very good comedienne, but it worked with her.  May have missed my calling.

Now get this, a year or so ago I sent a seed catcher to my friend in Niagara  Falls.  Then he ordered two more.  He then decided to send the first one back and have the size of elastic changed.  So I put a box with a return postage label all printed out to me and enclosed it so he could return the first one.  He dropped it in the mail box to come to me.  Three days later, it was returned to him because he had not taken it inside the post office and they thought it was a bomb because it was over the 13 ounce limit.  So I had spent $4.95 for the label.  Now he had to spend another $4.95 for the new label.  But the most asinine part was that it had been in the mail system for 3 days being returned to him.  It was never opened and he bought a new label and put it over the old label with out anybody ever looking inside.  So this made the $10 seed catcher cost a total of $14.90 in postage for no reason what so ever. If there had been a bomb in the goofy thing it surely would have detonated shortly after being put in the box. Or at the very least some time during the next day or so.

Then there was the time the doorbell rang and there stood the man who lived up on Bronco with a soggy box in his hand.  Hmmm.  Lou Mercer, yep that is me.  Oh gee is that the MP3 player I have been expecting?  Only silly me, I was looking in the mailbox for it, not in the irrigation ditch where he found it.  Let's see, that was about the time they took another 2 cent raise on postage.  Very well deserved if I do say so myself. 

So, I set here and think about my United States Postal Service and shake my head in wonderment.  Seems like we had a pretty good thing going when the Pony Express was in action.  Grab a saddle bag and ride like hell!

Back to the going postal thing.  See, I know these guys get a big kick out of being mean to us little old ladies, but I think they are also mean to each other.  Maybe they have left their station and gone across town and been mistreated by someone in another station and they are just getting revenge.  Why doesn't the powers that be teach these people to smile?  I have always found that sugar catches a lot my flies then vinegar.

You know what the first thing I learned when I went out into the work force?  I learned something called Customer Service and the golden rule to that was that the customer was always right.  Know who paid my salary?  The customer.  If we did not have customers I did not have a job so i always wanted them to come back.  Not so at the post office.  Or as far as that goes most government jobs.  Stop and think for one minute about what we have done to ourselves.  We sent a bunch of guys to Washington to pass a bunch of laws to make our life easier.  Then they had to appoint a bunch of committees to oversee the laws and make sure they were working.  Then we had to have people to check on the committees to be sure the committees were doing there job.  So now, guess what!  Everyone but you and me is now working for the government.  No wonder the post office people are so mean. I am the only one not working for them and they are afraid I will quit paying my taxes, so they want to make me suicidal and hope I do not have a will so the government can take all I own and put it back into circulation.

I keep hearing that the postal service is in trouble.  You know, I do not doubt that.  Gone are the days when you wrote a note and put it in an envelope and mailed it off to someone in another city.  Now we have a cell phone in our pocket and a computer on standby and we can touch someone electronically in a nano second.  But here is what I want you to ponder, if you will; Has electronics and such brought about the downfall of the postal system, or are the cell phone and email a result of a postal service that did not serve our needs?  Ah, it is indeed a quandary.  Might be too much for this feeble mind to comprehend.