I have them eating out of my hand...well, drinking out of my hand.

This is momma goose.  She has been setting on rotten eggs ever since her husband was brutally killed May 16.  I know it only takes 27-28 days, but she seems to be happy doing it so I let her.  I pull weeds for her and take her fresh water several times a day.  When she does not want any more water she makes a sort of guttural sound and I do not press her.  She never hisses at me and is always glad to see me, so I just let her set on the eggs that will never hatch and are probably dried up by now.  At least I hope so.

This is sister goose.  I am not sure who her husband is.  I think it is the African Gray named Johnny that Bret helped out of his shell many years ago.  But in all fairness I do her hanging out with the big Chinese gander and the old African Gray.  Truth be known, I think she is a bit of a slut.  Goose slut.

She is always ready for fresh water, but unlike momma goose, she hisses at me.  I think she could inflict some pain because I see very sharp teeth in that beak of hers!  Oh, the other day I gave them watermelon and they really liked that.  Eats that right out of the hand, she does.  Guess I should get some more.  They are on sale at LaGrees.  I can eat the leftovers.

Now, I am not sure if her eggs are any good or not.  Guess time will tell.  She has about worn her eggs out moving them.  I think she is supposed to just turn them once a day, but she moved her whole  nest about 2 feet to the south.  Who am I to know?  I do know that something should happen in the next week.  If I do not hear peeping by the 7th of July I am going to be the big mean woman and rake up the straw in the goose house, sweep the floor and put new straw down.  That is going to tick them off I am sure, but I know momma goose will forgive me.  Sister may be another story!

Wish me luck!

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Liberal? Conservative? Or just plain mean?

Why is it that people do not hear what I say?  I try to be clear, but before  the words are out of my mouth they have that aghast look on their face and are pissed off because I advocate taking their guns away!  That seems to be a lot of people's biggest fear in the world today.  Not hunger.  Not health care.  Not animal cruelty and certainly not the fact that Monsanto is poisoning our food and they do not even have to tell us.

I made a statement like "I think if a person is over sedated with anti depression pills and on the FBI wanted list or under investigation, they should not be allowed to purchase an assault rifle without a waiting period."  Silly me!  That is not an assault rifle and I should know the difference between an assault rifle and an automatic rifle.  I do know this, call it what you will I am not going to believe for one minute you need one of those to hunt a rabbit!  Nor do you need one to protect your home from the dreaded intruder.  If you set around every night with one of those on your lap waiting for Mr. Bad Guy to kick in your door, you have a real problem and all the fire power in the world is not going to save you.  Or maybe you have friends that you might want to take a closer look at.

I am a Liberal.  I have always been a Liberal and I am pretty sure that when my time comes I will die a Liberal.  I am also pretty sure my funeral will be pretty well attended by other Liberals as well as Conservatives, Gays, Blacks, Chicanos, a few Indians, animal lovers, Illegal Immigrants, Catholics, Protestants and if I am real lucky, Westboro Baptist Church will send protesters!

I realize you have every right to your gun and I think you should have it.  You need it.  You need it as part of the well regulated Militia  that this country needs to survive.  And I am sure you need lots of guns.  You can only shoot one at a time, but be sure you keep all of them.  I sure do not want any of them.  I will defend your right to carry one also, but know this, if you are behind me in the line at the grocery store with your gun under your shirt and a "bad guy" walks in with his AR-15 or whatever intent on shooting up the store, please step out of line before you pull your gun to save me because I do not want to be caught in the crossfire.

 I am sure my God has a plan for me and when it is my time, he will let me know and I sincerely hope that when my time comes I am in my little bed dreaming of a peaceful world where everyone has health care, a full belly at night, shade in the field, and a roof over their head.  I do not want to be displayed on the 6:00 o'clock news covered with blood and laying on a cold tile floor next to you with your gun in your hand.  Just grant me that!

I realize I have probably made enemies with this missive, but so be it.  I respect your right to have what ever firearms you want in your personal space, please respect my right to think thier should be some sort of laws in place to protect us from the crazies.  Kind of like saying, "You go to your church and I'll go to mine, but let's both walk along together."

Full text of my speech in case you missed it last night.

MY NAME IS LOU MERCER.  I STAND BEFORE YOU AS THE PROUD MOTHER OF A GAY SON.  I STAND BEFORE YOU AS THE PROUD SISTER OF A LESBIAN.  I STAND BEFORE YOU AS THE PROUD AUNT OF A GAY NIECE.  MY LEGION OF FRIENDS ARE GAY.AND I STAND PROUDLY TONIGHT AS ONE WHO HAS WORKED TIRELESSLY TO HAVE MY FRIENDS AND FAMILY ACCEPTED AND PROTECTED IN THIS GREAT COUNTRY OF OURS.

I WAS THERE TO DEFEAT AMENDMENT 2.  I WAS THERE TO SEE GAY MARRIAGE BECOME A REALITY.  I WAS THERE TO SEE GAY ADOPTIONS.  I SEE GAY REPRESENTATIVES  AND SENATORS AND GOVERNORS AND MAYORS AND MINISTERS.  I HAVE MARCHED IN GAY PRIDE PARADES , BUT TONIGHT I STAND BEFORE YOU AS A HUMAN BEING MOURNING THE LOSS OF MY FELLOW HUMAN BEINGS IN A SENSELESS KILLING.

HE KNEW NONE OF HIS VICTIMS.  MORE WILL COME OUT AS THEY INVESTIGATE THIS MURDER THAT IS NOW BEING KNOWN AS THE LARGEST LOSS OF LIFE IN A KILLING ON UNITED STATES SOIL BY A SINGLE GUNMAN.   I HAVE HEARD HE PLEDGED HIS LOYALTY TO ISIS WHICH MEANS THEY CAN TIE HIM TO THE MUSLIM COMMUNITY.

NO!  NO!  WE ARE NOT GOING TO ACCEPT THIS.  CALL IT WHAT IT IS….A HOMOPHOBIC ASSHOLE THAT WANTED TO KILL GAYS.  OUR COUNTRY IS IN A DOWNWARD SPIRAL BECAUSE THE LAWS WE WORKED SO HARD TO PUT INTO PLACE ARE BEING HELD UP AND RIDICULED BY DONALD TRUMP AND HIS FOLLOWERS.  HE IS BEING HELD UP BY SO CALLED CHRISTIANS THAT POINT OUT TO US DAY AFTER DAY THAT ACCORDING THE BIBLE, HOMOSEXUALITY IS A SIN.  DO THESE PEOPLE EVEN READ THE BIBLE?  I THINK NOT.

THE NEW TESTAMENT SET ASIDE ALL THE OLD LAWS SUCH AS BURNING A CALF ON THE ALTER, MARRYING YOUR BROTHERS WIDOW , AND GOD FORBID YOU EAT SHRIMP!  HOMOSEXUALITY IS NOT EVEN DISCUSSED IN THE NEW TESTAMENT AND MOST IMPORTANTLY TO ME….JESUS CHRIST NEVER ADDRESSED THE SUBJECT.

SO LETS JUST CALL THIS WHAT IT IS, A BIGOTED PERSON WANTED TO SHOOT QUEERS AND HE DID IT! 

I AM HERE TONIGHT FOR ONLY ONE REASON AND THAT IS TO ASK US ALL TO COME TOGETHER AND REMEMBER STONEWALL.  REMEMBER WHEN THE POLICE RAIDED THE GAY CLUB AGAIN AND THE PATRONS SAID “NO MORE!”  WE HAVE COME A LONG WAYS WITH PEACEFUL RESISTANCE AND WE CAN NOT NOW BOW DOWN AND GO BACK IN THE CLOSET   WE ARE OUT!  WE ARE PROUD!  AND WE ARE NOT GOING TO BACK DOWN FROM THIS ADVERSITY. 

WE ARE IN AN ELECTION YEAR AND WE NEED TO VOTE AND WE NEED TO VOTE WISELY.  RESEARCH YOUR CANDIDATES AND PUT YOUR “X” WERE YOUR MOUTH IS.

GOD LOVES EVERYONE OF US JUST AS WE ARE.  UNFORTUNEATLY HE GAVE THE HUMAN RACE FREE WILL AND A LOT OF PEOPLE CHOOSE TO TRY TO IMPOSE THEIR FREE WILL ON US, BUT, HONEY, IT AIN’T HAPPENING ON OUR WATCH!!!

Do you remember when you first remember?

I have reached a new plateau in my morning thought process.  Usually I wake up and remember what day it is and then begin to remember what all I have planned for the day.  Well today was just a little different.  I woke up and tried to remember how far back I could actually remember.  I remember when Dorothy was born.  Mother had to stay in bed 10 days.  Seems like it was harvest and dad was pretty upset that he actually had to hire someone to drive the grain truck into town.  We lived on the Stroh place at that time.  That would have meant I was 5 years old.  Oh, I bet I was so cute!  Not sure because I do not ever remember anyone saying, "Oh, what a cute little girl!"  I remember them asking Momma, "Wow!  How many kids do you have?"  I was named after my Paternal Grandmother, who I never met.  Or at least, I do not remember if I did.

I remember an aunt and uncle coming for a visit and they were rich because they had a car!  I also remember when it came time for them to leave that the uncle sat at the steering wheel with the aunt in the passenger seat and dad "cranked" the motor to get it to fire.  I often wondered just how that worked if there was no one to turn the crank.  Did Auntie in her finery and feathery hat do it?  A mystery indeed.

I can vaguely remember the day my dad brought home a Shetland pony named Star.  That horse came out of the trailer kicking and I do not think he ever stopped.  I was terrified of that damned horse.  He was brown and white and I could see him watching me and I knew if I got close he would send me flying.  My dad had been in the Cavalry and had been bitten on his upper arm by a horse and carried the scar his entire life.  To this day I live in mortal terror that a horse will bite me if I get too close.  Ito was the one exception.

I do not remember being flogged by the geese when I wandered into thier pen.  Mother did.  I do not remember Jake whacking me on the head with a turnip, but she did.  I do remember when the cow died and dad had to pull it down to the pasture, cover it with some sort of fuel and light it on fire because there was an epidemic of anthrax and "you just never know and it is better to be safe then sorry."  The government told us that.

I remember Momma getting out the stamp books when she went to the store because the government only allowed us to buy so much sugar, gasoline and other thing that were "rationed".  I do not remember having a Christmas in the Stroh house, but we must have.  I remember my step brother, Gene Bartholomew coming for a visit once.  He came with someone in a fancy car that did not need cranked.  He was just out of the Army and he was very handsome and smelled very good.  He only stayed a little while and then I remember talk of "prison", "forgery", and a "damn long stretch ahead of him."  He remained in my memory and in my life for the next 10 years.  He wrote me from prison and I answered all his letters.  He wrote in Calligraphy which I guess made him a very good at forgery.  I saw him once when I was about 16.  He left to hitch hike to Oregon, was arrested in Nebraska for "vagrancy", given a ride to the outskirts of some little town and disappeared off the face of the earth.  Some loose ends we just never get to tie up.

I have to interject here about my father and how he ended up with kids we never knew.  My dad was much older then my Mother.  He had been married before and they had 5 children.  A son and daughter had died during the great depression leaving them with 3 sons.  William Eugene Bartholomew, Richard Bartholomew, and Earl Bartholomew.  For whatever reason his wife died.  He put the boys in an orphange because he could not care for them and had no family members that could help.  Richard and Earl were adopted.  Gene was not.  Richard and Gene were both in World War II and both were "shell shocked" when they got out.  Richard was more affected then Gene, but neither of them were ever productive members of society.  I do know Gene married and had a son.  As I recall the son's name was Billy.  I expect it was William Eugene Bartholomew.  He may have children, but who knows and I do not know how to find out.

Well, I got a little side tracked there.  Some other things I remember about the Stroh place years are good memories.  Like herding the old cow along the road so she could eat grass and then when it was time to bring her home I would grab her tail and she would run for the barn.  Of course I got in trouble because she would not "let her milk down" after that little jaunt.

I remember Donna poking her finger in a turtles mouth and the turtle would not let go and if dad cut the head off the turtle it still would not let go "until the sun goes down."  Poor Donna!

I remember the old yellow tomcat bringing a baby chicken to mother and I remember my horrified mother demanding Jake take that cat into the woods and kill it for killing her chicken.  Wonder how I slept that night?

I remember playing in a mud puddle by the house and how much fun it was when the water tried up and left little crunchy dried pieces of mud where it used to be.  Those were fun to walk on barefooted.

I remember mom holding me under her arm and washing my hair under the pump on the back porch.  Josephine pumped as fast as she could and I recall that water was so damn cold!

I remember "haircutting day"  when some lady would come and set us on a chair, put a bowl over my head and cut whatever was below the bowl off and that was a "bowl haircut."

I remember being in first grade and we surely lived there then, but I do not remember walking to school.  I remember walking to the store alone the first time from that house.

I remember Jake hanging out down on the river with a guy named "Blackie Joe" (?) and I remember the beautiful silver bracelet Jake gave me that he helped make, but I do not remember what I did with it.

I remember so much, but I do not remember what we ate.  I do not remember ever being cold.  I do not remember if we had furniture or an icebox, or what I wore for clothes.

I do remember being sad because we were leaving that house.  The saddest part is, I do not know where we lived before the Stroh place.  I do not know so much and the saddest part of all is there is no one I can ask.  Being the oldest sure sucks sometimes.

Springtime means Mulberrys on the ground

Back in Nickerson, I bet the Mulberry tree is getting ready to spew it's harvest of the deep purple fruit on the ground.  Catalpa Beans, Walking Stick Cactus and the Mulberry tree are forever ingrained in my memory.  When I can not sleep at night, I often go back in memory to the house at 709 Strong Street.  I guess it was safe then.  It was momma's job to meet all my needs.  There was always something to eat 2 or 3 times a day.  We had electricity, but we did not use it very often.  Mostly we used an oil lamp because we were afraid we would wear the electric wires out or burn out the bulbs.

We had a sign that went in the front window for the iceman.  We could get a 10 or 20 pound block by placing the sign so the amount we wanted appeared right side up to the man on the road.  He would take his tongs and grab the block and bring it inside and put it in our ice box.  And that was what we called it, "ice box".  Momma always left the ice man's money on top of the ice box.

The door was never locked and I am not sure we even had a key.  If we did it was a skeleton key and it would lock and unlock our door and every other door in town.  If we lost it we could get another at the hardware store.  About the only time we ever needed to "lock up" was when the wind blew the door open.  Oh, yeah, and when the Gypsy's were camped outside of town.  Gypsy's were always camping out side of town.  We never seen them,but word spread fast when they were there, because the came to steal the children.  If it wasn't the Gypsy's after us, there was a pack of wild dogs attacking the children.  I do not know how any of us survived what with the Gypsy's and wild dogs after us all the time and in all fairness I must say, I do not remember anyone ever losing a child to anything except measles or diphtheria or something like that.  Oh, there was the incident of a man backing over his child with the car.  But no Gypsy's.

There were 8 of us living in a five room house.  We heated in the winter with a wood stove in the front room and a wood cook stove in the kitchen.  The pump for water was out back and it was the highlight of our live when we finally got a pump inside!  It was one that did not need primed and we could get a drink of water anytime we wanted one.  It was attached to a big sink that drained out the back of the house and onto the ground.  This was the favorite gathering place for the Muscovy ducks.  They were nasty creatures, but they laid eggs and foraged for themselves so we kept them.  I had 4 of them when I had my flock and I got rid of them because they could fly and they would roost on my air conditioning unit.  Nasty birds.

The cactus was on the north side of the house towards the road.  It was wild and unattended and you did not go near it without shoes.  It's sole purpose in life was to make me miserable.  There were 2 Catalpa trees in the front by the road.  One was friendly and easy to climb.  I spent many hours in it's branches dreaming about the day I would be grown and able to leave this place.  The other one was full of small branches and no way could we climb it.  Both of them produced big long green beans which I always thought we should be able to eat, but no way.  I do not know if they were poison or not.  When they dried out we could smoke them.  Or so we thought.  I lit one once and forgot to blow out the flame before I sucked on it and pulled the fire into my mouth.  Not a very bright move on my part and one that no doubt scarred me for life in more ways than one!

On the north side of the house about midway to the currant bushes stood the Mulberry tree in all it's glory.  Mother always promised that if we would pick a pan of Mulberry's she would make us a Mulberry pie.  I do not remember ever getting a pie, but neither do I remember ever picking a pan full of Mulberrys either.  I do remember climbing into the tree and birds attacking me.  I remember walking barefoot through the berries on the ground.  I do remember purple feet and hands and a purple ring around my mouth and I do remember Josephine screaming at me and whacking me with the broom for "tracking that damned mess" into the house.  There is a Mulberry tree up on South Road that I see throwing it's fruit on the road and I am so tempted to stop and pick a handful, but I have not done that yet.  Maybe this year I will!

Maybe this year I will stop and pick a few and stand there and fly away to a time and place that will restore my soul and fill the empty place in my life.  Just maybe.

This is my helper and this is why I can not get anything done!

This is Icarus and Icarus helps me with everything I do.  Here you see that I am working on a mat for the homeless, but she thinks she can do a better job, so she just plants herself on the work and tells me to go do something else.

Now if you are wondering if Icarus is a boy or girl, she is a girl  When I got her I was dating a guy and he said "Let's name her Icarus!  That is a very good name."  I explained to him that Icarus was a boys name and I reminded him that he was the boy with wax wings that flew to close to the sun and his wings melted and he fell to earth.  He patiently pointed out to me that no one remembered that stuff and Icarus was a good name, so Icarus she became and while he is no longer with me, Icarus is.

And her she is thinking she might be able to grab that shuttle, but will have no idea what to do with it when she gets it.  She just wants to get it away from me!

Here she has a different perscpective from the other side of the loom.  She would like to be able to crawl across the harnesses, but she is pretty sure I move them with my feet and she can not control my hands and feet at the same time.

Well, there you go!  I am completely shut down at this point!  You do realize that this also occurs when I am on the computer, don't you?  Naps are out of the question because she like to set on my head when I kick back in the recliner.  And if I protest too much, she has been known to bite.  Where did I get the idea that I wanted a cat?  Oh, I remember, it was so keep the dogs company.  So here I set with an cat that thinks it is a dog, and dogs that tolerate her because she is a bitch.  

I do not know where she is right now and it is scaring me!  Usually when this happens I end up chasing a mouse around the kitchen.  Crap!  Better go find her.  Better go take care of my remaing geese.  Probably ought to just go to bed and call it a day.

New beginnings! Mats for the homeless.

YouTube is a real eye opener at times!  While surfing one day I typed in homeless and then mats and came up with my newest project.  Our church has toyed with all sorts of missions and we do a few.  We buy Christmas and Birthday gifts for every client in a series of group homes.  We do hygiene bags for Los Pobres as well as collect clothing, shoes and household goods all through the year.  We have a preschool which operates the same schedule as schools in the district.  But we needed more.  I drove by the soup kitchen down town one day and noted that the parking lot was full of men, women and children waiting for their daily meal.  That made me think....where do they go after they eat?  Most of the homeless have everything they own with them.  There or stashed back at....where?

Where do they spend the afternoon?  Where do they go when the sun goes down?  Where do they wake up in the morning?  What comforts do they have?  What could our church do to help the homeless?  I knew there were places in town that fed the homeless.  There were coat drives.  And of course there was the Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners, but was that enough?  When people are homeless, whether by chance or choice, it is a 24 hour a day condition and it last 365 days a year.  What do the places that deal with this problem on a day to day basis need to keep functioning?  Oh, of course they need money, but what else?

I started researching on YouTube.  Amazing tool, YouTube.  I learned how to rebuild the back of my stool on YouTube.  I learned how to caulk the tub on YouTube and now I am learning how to help the homeless.  I do not know where they live, but I do know it is outside and they sleep on the ground.  YouTube taught me that sleeping mats for the homeless can be made out of plastic grocery bags and a crochet hook!  Not even an investment required, just the commitment of time and talent.

So the call went out for empty plastic carry bags.  They have to be straightened, flattened and cut into what turns out to be circles.  For this I relied on the ladies at church.  Most of them do not crochet so that was left to me.  These are then linked together and rolled into a ball.  Then the fun part of crocheting them into a mat 3' x 6'.  I must confess, by first mat took me 6 weeks to make and is not 3' x 6', but does seem to be about 4 foot square.  I took it to church and pastor Kevin blessed it.  Off I went to the Posada Homeless Center. 

Anne Stattleman and her sidekick Sal, were most happy with my little endeavor.  They now have a youth group which is homeless youth that hang out in the center and cope with being homeless.  A spark!  A spark!  My little pea brain took flight.  Young people need to learn a skill!  I have lots of crochet hooks!  So I went back the next morning in search of the young  people who were going to be my project.  I would teach them to cut the bags, string the bags and crochet the bags!  But alas!  My plan was thwarted because they were not there!  One wandered in and he gave me direction!  I will meet with the whole group on Monday at 4:00.    We will make this a social event!  Yes, we will all work together for the common good!  I am excited!  Monday will be the christening, but I have lots of plans for these kids!

Our church is going to have an ice cream social on June 3 and I am going to invite all my little friends to come by for ice cream.  That should be fun, don't you think?  Our church wants to do some sort of neighborhood thing every month and Posada is in our neighborhood so I can see all kinds of things going on here.

In the meantime, I have devised a plan whereby I can weave one of these mats in two days.  This is the first one.  It is way too thin though.  This was woven with hemp thread as the warp, but I have an new plan.

If I can make the warp out to the same thing as the body, it will be thicker and more durable.  So I am working on that.  I will teach the kids to crochet, thus freeing me up to build a warp out of plarn which is the word for plastic that is made into yarn.  PL arn.  Get it?

So tomorrow this one goes to Kevin to be blessed and then to Anne and Sal to give to someone.  By this time next week we should be in full production.  I will keep you posted.  Tomorrow or Monday I will be blogging about my new helper down on the loom.  Her name is Icarus and here is but a screen shot of how she helps me.  Stay tuned.