It happened again!! Honest people!!

Yesterday was a hub of activity at the SWM's estate.  Bikers all over the place for the British Motorcyle Association of Colorado sale as per the terms of the will.  More about that tomorrow, but I have got to tell you this part first.  Remember when I left my purse in the shopping cart at Walmart just a couple weeks ago?  And remember how I got it back just like I left it?  Well, listen up.
This is a lady from St. Louis.  She went to our local Walgreen's right over there on 4th and Abriendo to buy pop and something else, I forget what.  Later in the day, she was going with Libby some where and she looked for her purse.  Then WE looked for her purse and very soon came the sinking realization that it was not in our vicinity. So she and dear hubby lept in the pickup and off to the local Walgreen.

You guessed it!  There it was.  Two ladies had found it in the parking lot in the cart and brought it and turned it in to the clerk who locked it up until someone came to claim it.  Now, I ask you, what does this say about our fair city?  I say it speaks volumes about the caliber of people that we never meet.  I know that sinking sensation when I reach for something and it is not there.  Can you imagine how this would feel to a woman a thousand miles from home?
Now granted a woman's purse is one of those items that has been known to strike fear in the heart of more than one man.  Like my late SWM.
"Do you have a pen?"
"Sure. Get one out of my purse!" 
Fear in the eyes.  "That purse?"
"Yeah."
"You mean open it up?"
"Yeah, just reach in there!"
"You mean with my hand?"
"Well, yeah, unless you have a better solution as to how to get it out."
"So, I have to open it up?"
"I thought we had established that."
"I have to touch it?"
I found it was much easier and a whole lot quicker to just pop it open and get the pen myself.  And yet I see movies where "purse snatchers" grab a purse right off a woman's shoulder and run away with it.  They apparently were raised in a different era than most of the men I know.  Or they are drug crazed maniacs.  Or they have never been in the wonderland of a woman's purse!  Where I came from no self respecting man would ever touch a woman's purse for any reason what so ever. 
Oh, dear, I see I have once more digressed from my message.  This old age is about to be more than I can keep up with.  Seems I spend half of my time getting something and the other half wondering where I put it after I got it.  No wonder I leave things in the shopping cart, but dear Liz, what is your reason?  LOL
So back to the honesty in parking lots.  Maybe it is just easier to be honest if no one is looking.  Or maybe I have just been a pessimist all along.  What ever, my hat is off to Jeffery at the south side Walmart and the two ladies at the Abriendo Walgreen.  I am proud to salute you, who ever you are!
******************************************************************************

 

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Ah, my bicycle and a chance to run head on with a Mack truck!

See me on my bike?  See my bike without me on it?  See that car in the background?  What do you think would happen if I were on the road and I met that car head on?  Think I would damage that grill and leave it a shattered mess?  Or do you think me and my little bike would lose that round?  Pretty sure I know the answer to that one.  But here is what happens every day of my life.

I go some where in the car.  Now I have always been taught that when I ride a bike I am to follow all the rules that a car or motorcycle would follow.  Stay on the right side of the road.  Stop at stop signs.  Use a hand signal to indicate what my next move will be.  Oh, yeah and obey the speed limit.  I have no problem with that.  Can't hardly keep moving without falling over most of the time, but that is irrelevant.

So here I am tooling along and up the road headed straight toward me is a bicycle.  Some times it is a kid and more often than not it is a grown up leading the pack.  Now when I walk I do face oncoming traffic, but be reasonable on this bike thing.  When walking I can easily step over it I need to while on a bike you can not.  You are in the lane of traffic and it is the equivalent of going the wrong way on a one way street!  There you are on your vulnerable little 2 wheels that probably weighs 15 pounds and here I am heading straight for you.  I know you are over on the other side of the white line, almost in the ditch, but I have no choice if you bobble just a little but to run over you.  Think you would like that?  So I can either swerve into oncoming traffic to miss you and kill myself, or I can stop and look at you like you are suicidal, which you are!

Now here is a link for you to read just in case you think I am dreaming this up.  Granted this link is to the California CDOT but last I knew they were part of the United States and under the auspices of  of the federal Department Of Transportation.  I know that you have reasoning powers so think about where you ride your bike logically. 

http://www.dmv.ca.gov/pubs/brochures/fast_facts/ffdl37.htm

When you are driving your car and you come on a slow moving vehicile you slow down.  Then you check oncoming traffic in the left lane.  If it is clear, you accelerate and move into the left lane to pass and then quickly back in to your lane.  But when a bike is coming towards you in your lane, it does not matter what is in the left lane.  You are left with no choices. 

I would not bring this subject up if it were not happening more often especially now that summer is here and more bikes are out.  I think I am going to make bike safety a priority.  I will first stop in the local cop shop and ask them if they could possible consider giving tickets to bicycleists who do not obey the rules.  I realize if I hit one of them I would not be held liable since they were clearly in the wrong, but there is that "morally responsible" thing to consider and I do so love to sleep at night with a fairly clear conscience.  I am afraid the vision of a body hurtling into my windshield would screw that up royally.

I had a grandson staying with me once who was a teenager and in college.  He rode his bike because that is what he had.  And he rode it on the wrong side of the road because "If someone is going to hit me I want to see them coming.!"  I explained to him that he would.  And he did.  He came home all scuffed up one evening.  Some guy pulled out from the stop sign and never even seen him.  Course not.  I am extra cautious, but not everyone is.  So the guy pulled out and Dameon bounced across his hood.  A second later and he would have been under his wheels; a second earlier and he would have broadsided him.  Did he learn anything?  I doubt it.  Grandma's are not real bright.

So this is my soap box for the day.  And this is your assignment for the day:  When you see someone riding a bicycle on the wrong side of the road, point it out to them that they are endangering not only themselves, but others.  They are setting an example for someone somewhere.  Oh and a little side note here, be diplomatic about it.  The finger gesture does not always convey your thoughts accurately!

 

 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  My Novel  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Just another little bump in the road.

There you go.  this is a miracle in more ways than one.  First, I took this picture myself and it is clear and you can see it and actually count the stitches.  Second miracle is that as soon as the dermatologist seen it she wanted to do a biopsy.  No waiting for her.  And I let her which is the third miracle.  I do not like anyone cutting on me and telling me to hold still.  And the third miracle was when I came back to get the stitches out from the first  one, I let her do it again!  This is the second one.  This should be the last one.

Now I have shared many aspects of my life with you from the fight with the boyfriend to his passing last month so I do not feel one bit reticent to share this little deal with you.  My dermatologist is Sharon Kessler here in Pueblo and she is a dream come true.  And just look at that wound there.  It is about an inch long and I am willing to bet that when the stitches come out it will be almost invisible.  I love that woman.  And she did it right there in her office in just a matter of minutes.  Now comes the sermon.

I grew up in the age of sunshine was good for you.  Running behind the sprayer when they sprayed the mosquitoes on a hot evening in Nickerson was fun because it cooled us and we slept better after our little mini shower.  We had an asbestos mat under our stove and on our table.  The AMA ran ads in thier publications that said "Throat hot?  Smoke Kools."  We smoked in the car and the kids didn't know they were at risk.  We sprayed the crops with ddt and then canned the fruits of our labors.  Ah, the good old days.

So now we are old and we see the dermatologist once every 6 months to a year to get things burned off of us.  We go to the eye doctor to have the cataract removed.  We hack and cough and try to rid our lungs of the asbestos and coal dust and God only knows what else is lurking in our bodies.  We take cholesterol lowering pills trying to get our arteries clear from all the artifical crap that is clogging us up.  We are obese because our bodies can not digest the stuff that is in the food now days that is supposed to make us healthy. 

So what is the solution?  Damn!  I was hoping you could tell me.  The first 60 years of my life I spent marching uphill, raising kids, buying a house, raising grandkids, and now I am in the golden years and I am still marching uphill, raising kids, trying to keep the house, paying astronomical utility bills and wondering just when I will reach the top.  Problem is when I do reach the top, the other side is downhill and everyone knows, when you are over the hill you pick up speed.  Now where was I going with this?

Oh, yeah.  You should be wearing sunscreen any time you are out in the sun.  And there is something about SPF or something like that.  Damn, I did so want to make this some sort of public service announcement, but I forgot how that was going to work.  And they say your hearing is the first thing to go!  Anyway, wear the sunscreen and for crying out loud stay away from the mosquito sprayer on a hot night.  Oh, and buy my book!

 

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Oh, no! Can it beeeeeeeeeee?

Looks pretty harmless, doesn't it?  Well it is not!  There are bees there and they are very mean bees.  The other day I popped over there to drop off a couple boxes.  First box delivered and on the way back to the car a bee stung me on the ankle.  I grabbed the second box and hurried inside.  Bee bite on  the way up the step.  Dropped the box inside, pulled the door shut, turned the key and another on the way to the car.  By this time I was in pain.  Those damn things hurt!  Luckily I always have my big container of ice water so I fished out an ice cube and rubbed the two on my leg that hurt the worst.  The one on my arm wasn't that bad. 
After a trip to the dermatologist, I drove back over to asses the situation.  Bees were every where and it seemed they were concentrated at the front porch and in the evergreens.  So I came home and started calling exterminators.  Well, let me tell you now, that is what my mother always called an exercise in futility!  The one company who actually had an opinion as to how to do this was quite clear on two things.  The nest in the front would cost $160 to remove and the one in the back would be an additional $45.  That was well and good, but I can not see a nest in the front or back.  Well, that is a problem then cause we can not move it if we can not see it.  Hell, if I could see it, I could move it!
Now you all know that I am a kind hearted woman and I do not hurt anything, man or beast, but me and those bees are going to come to a n understanding of some kind!  I do not like to kill bees, but by the same token, I do not like to be stung by them.  So here is the deal:
I know a lot of you out there have similar ideas.  If you have any idea how I could possibly get them to leave quietly, or at least stay away from me, I would love to hear them.  There is a comment place down there where you can click and get a thing to write on and tell me what to do.  Or email me at loumercer3@aol.com
We have a sale coming up at this house in a couple weeks and killer bees dive bombing our customers is not going to be good. I googled this and some where it said the safe and natural way to destroy them is spray with soapy water.  But, there you go killing them.  And if that does not work there are going to be some pissed off bees after me again.  As mad as they were the other day, I do not want to further ruffle thier fur, so to speak.
So I shall anxiously await any suggestions  any of you might possibly have to clear up this little wrinkle in my world.
 VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Slide show of the memorial site.

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Saturday August 25, 2012

Sherman Joseph Schroeder, Jr

February 17, 1935

to

July 13, 2012

 

 

This past Saturday we all gathered at The Sangre de Cristo Hospice Center located at 300 West Abriendo (the former Abriendo Inn) to pay our final tribute to my dear friend Sherman.  Nephew Brent Schroeder came from Boulder, Doc from Ordway, several friends from Denver, Colorado Springs and some from here.  Sister Nancy stopped by for a moment.  It is very informal at the center and we just visited.  Libby Kyer summed up his life ( if a life can indeed be summed up in 15 minutes).  Jerry read a few emails.  We watched a photo DVD put together by Brent.  We ate a few sandwiches and finger desserts.  Drank a little tea and coffee and just visited about Sherman and how many lives he had touched over his 77 years.

 

I am still spending my time wondering if I was listening at all the past 2 1/2 years when he was talking.  I knew he had friends, I just had no idea how many,  how devoted his friends were, how they came from all areas and all walks of life.  I knew he helped start the British Motorcycle Association of Colorado, and that he collected Japanese swords, sword parts and books on the subject.  I knew he collected books on collecting.  I knew he had owned a contracting business in Denver and that he was an engineer, draftsman, and designer.  I knew he loved dogs and owned a champion Doberman named Dirk as well as three other very unique dogs in his life.  I knew he liked BMW's, Porche, and Corvette's and had owned them at one time or another.  I knew this and a lot of other stuff, but what I really knew was very little.

 

I knew he loved his Victorian home on the bluff, which will now be sold.  I know he liked to walk on the river, which I now do alone.  I know he liked to go out and eat on the spur of the moment.  I know he was interested in politics.  I know he was a carpenter, and he wanted to grow things.  I know he collected art work.  I know when he wondered about something he researched it until he could talk about it with authority. 

 

I know he had a kind heart.  When he went into University Park he told me to take all his groceries and all his clothes and whatever else could be useful to the migrant center east of town for Sister Nancy to do with as she chose.  And I did.  I know he cared about all God's creatures and as one of God' creatures, I know he cared about me.  I know he was my friend.  And I know I will miss him.  I still reach for the phone to call him and tell him some little thing I have done that would make him  proud.  I just need to find a way to continue what we started together, but without him.

 

The migrant center is still there.  The animal shelter is still there.  So I am toying with an idea.  I need to touch a few bases and then I think I will have a way to keep Sherman J. Schroeder, Jr. alive in my mind.  Stay tuned for updates.  Sherman chose me for a reason!



The BMAC arrives from Colorado Springs
 

Just some folks visiting.

Jerry Pokorny who headed up the bikers for this trip.

South side Walmart, missing purse and yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus!

 See this purse?  I carry one just almost like it but where this one is red, mine is lime green.  Same peace signs.  Oh, and the handle is lime green.  It is about 13" high and 15" wide.  You get the picture?  Not something one would overlook easily.  Course have not dealt with me, have you?

Yesterday I took my little self up the mountain to Beulah and my favorite coffee shop.  (More about that later, but this is about something else.)  Since Saturday is Sherman's memorial service I needed to stop at Walmart and pick up a few items.  Since I was right there at the South side Walmart, I stopped and went inside.

My shopping was quickly accomplished and very soon I was on my way home.  I thought briefly about stopping at Taco Bell and getting one of those new Cantina Bowls, but did not.  Should have and saved myself many gray hairs, because I would have realized early on that my purse had decided to stay there in the cart at the Walmart store for anyone who happened by to pick it up and take it home and spend my $6.00 and order lots of stuff online with my credit card.  But I did not.

Upon arrival at home I unloaded the car and at that point realized what a stupid move I had made.  I read articles all the time about identity theft and know all the things to do to avoid it happening to me.  Now in all fairness to me, in all the articles I have read, never once has anyone of them said "Do not leave your purse in the shopping cart in the parking lot in broad daylight and drive off and go home."  Never said anything along that line at all.

So back home one hour later and the purse is not with me and I hit panic mode.  I searched frantically for the number to that store, but it was not there.  I found out later that I needed to call the North side and they would give me the number to the south side.  (Say, what!)  So I frantically called 911 since that is the only number I could think of.  A very nice young lady answered and I blurted out that I needed a phone number.  She gave me the number and also the number for the police in case I needed that.  I felt better just knowing someone else out there knew how stupid I was.

I was so relieved when the girl at Walmart told me that yes it was there and locked in the safe room.  The man who gathered the carts (the one I almost backed over) had brought it in and given it to them.  Set a new land record getting to the store.  Customer service girl held it up and I reached for it, but first I had to prove who I was.  "Just look in that black and white thing there and see my drivers license with the picture of me and my Mohawk."  She smiled and the purse and I were reunited.

Now comes the part that almost makes me cry.  I told her I wanted to reward the man who turned it in to the office.  "Oh, no.  You can't.  He just followed company policy."  Begging and wheedling did no good, but she did tell me his name.  It is Jeffery.  Could have knocked me over with a feather on that, because Sherman's brother is named Jeffery.  I kind of thought someone was looking out for me on this one.

I went and looked for him in the parking lot, but he had gone to lunch.  I may try again, but for sure I am going to write to the Southside Walmart and commend them on hiring honest people.  The chances that Jeffery at Southside Walmart will read this are probably two...Slim and None.  But I want you all to know that there are still people out there who are honest and will do the right thing.  And when you go to the Southside Walmart, put in a good word for Jeffery.  I do hope I catch him one of these days and I can thank him in person.  In the meantime, I am going to let him be an inspiration for me and I will try to do the right thing for someone else.

Thank you, Jeffery!!

This is an unpaid advertisement!

I clicked on this today and what a surprise. I have now had 20,000 hits exactly. So I took that as an omen that I should promote my book. I worked very hard writing this and spent a lot of money publishing it and now I would like to sell it. So to the people out there who have boosted my readership up this high, here we go:
I am here to hopefully sell you my first and finest novel Chapter One..Loose Ends.

********************For Sale by owner*****************

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends
Lou Mercer

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains.

And if you want to visit my struggling webstore go to  www.loumercer3.com

And see that paypal button up there?  It is for just that purpose and it will take you straigt to paypal where you will find an invoice.  You can pay that securely with any credit card and I will immediately mail you your copy.  If you would like it autographed just email me the message of who to and voila! 

Sister Mary is coming!! Be here Saturday.

Here is sister Mary riding the three wheeler at sister Donna's house.  I think she was having a pretty good time in this picture!

Sister Mary has not been here for a couple years.  Well, maybe a year and a half and since I can not seem to make it back home I just have not seen her.  I was very happy when Larry called the other day and announced that they were in Denver and would be here on Saturday. 
Of course I had to rearrange a few prior commitments, but so goes it.  And the Pride parade is Sunday morning so they can either go with me, or wait here.  That is a have to be there thing!
Short one this morning cause I have to get busy and spray brush killer on the new trees coming up around the foundation of the house in town.  Now normally, any kind of "-scide" is a no-no, but we are dealing with those damn stink trees that will completely raise a house up off its foundation if left to thier own devices.  I ripped out a truck load and brought them home to burn, but there the roots are sprouting.  So.
And back to sister Mary.  I tried to call sister Donna, but no answer and no return call.  Maybe they are on vacation.  I wish Larry would leave Mary with me for a few and we could go to Beulah and just look around.  Or we could just veg here at home. 
Well, sorry this is short, but I have to go do my dirty work.  I will report in on Monday and let you know how the visit went.  Till then, as my friend in New York told me, "Keep your powder dry."  Seems like a strange farewell message, but nonetheless, apropos!

;">********************For Sale by owner*****************

From the back cover

Chapter One...Loose Ends

Meg Parker led a simple life.  She was a widow of three years and lived on a chicken farm at the foot of the mighty Rockie Mountains.  Life was good and her little store on eBay made her extra spending money.  But snow and wildlife were not the only things lurking in the forest above her house.  Nor did it stay in the forest for long.

Marshall Purcell came home a wounded veteran from vietnam.  He still had his dreams, but they were of an incestuous past that threatened to consume him.

When Meg and Marshall met it seemed an inconsequential meeting, but it changed both their lives forever.  And change is not always a good thing.

This is adult fiction at its best without all the sex.  Well, maybe just a little bit. 

About the author.  Lou Mercer was born in Nickerson, Kansas. She came to Pueblo, Colorado in 1977 and is now a product of the majestic Rockie Mountains

Ah, the dreaded one month anniversary.

July 13.  Friday the 13th.  I think Sherman picked that day because of his wry sense of humor.  But he was right, you know.  May have been a lucky day for him, but a very unlucky one for those of us left behind to cope with the loss.Those are lilacs on his hat.  I do not remember what we were discussing when I took this picture.  I am pretty sure it was while Jeff was here.  And I am pretty sure the Lilacs were in bloom.  And that is about all I am sure of at this point.  Oh, that and the fact that the more things change, the more they stay the same.
I remember way far back when I was a kid, life was so simple.  There was no concept of what was to come.  I guess my first real taste of death was when my sister gave birth to a still born son.  The funeral was held in her front room with the tiny casket placed on the television after being carried in by the man who ran the funeral home, Jack Lamb.  I still remember the tiny face and the tiny pink hand holding the blue blanket closed.  Baby Boy Burch.  And the saddest part of the whole thing was that was just the beginning.
A friend from school and his brother in a fiery crash, aunts, uncles, in laws, out laws, brother, sister, cousins, husbands and ex husbands, friends and acquaintances, grandma's and grandpa's, clients, and the list goes on until I reach the point where I am now the Matriarch of the family and my friends are all younger than me.  No death is easy for me.  Each one touches a place deep in my soul that shall always remain raw and tender.
But I do now recognize the stages of grief; the denial, the anger, depression and finally acceptance.  I am still dealing with the first three and am sure I will finally get to number four.  And I know that there are anniversaries in life that we may not remember, but when I find myself sad for no good reason, I stop and think.  It usually comes to me.  "Oh, this is the day Mark died."  "This is the day my divorce was granted."  The happy anniversaries seem to roll by unnoticed, but the sad ones have a way of pushing to the front and calling "Pick me!  Pick me!"
And so it is today that I remember Sherman.  And to do that I must live in the past.  Just for a while anyway.  The Lilac's are gone and the hat lives in St. Louis.  And Sherman...well, in a perfect world...

www.loumercer3.com

Oh, we are the battleground state aren't we?

Ok, I went to town early this morning to take the dog to the beauty shop.  I knew President Obama was in town and expected lots of traffic.  As it turned out traffic was light, but my route had to be altered slightly since all around the Marriot was barricaded.  So I dropped her off at 7:30 and came home.  He called at 9:30 and said she was ready.  Great!  I knew he would be at the Ag building at 10:45 so I thought I was home free. 
As I passed Romero's I happened to notice several men in dark suits talking up their sleeve.  Ah ha!  I knew where he was going to eat breakfast.  I was confident that I would be able to grab the dog and get home before traffic got clogged up.  Now bear in mind that the city end of Santa Fe was securely blockaded causing me to go up Grand to Main, over to Union, then to fourth and out Fourth to the groomer. 
Now you need to know one thing here.  There are 3 ways to get to the Mesa.  The first way is East on Santa Fe Drive.  The second is out Fourth, down Stockyards, under the Bridge, through Salt Creek and via Aspen and then East on South Road.  That is inconvenient, but not as far as out Fourth to 50 Highway to Baxter Road, across to business highway 50 and back West to Blende and then South to South Road and then to my house.  The first is direct and the one everyone uses.  The second is rather tricky and not much fun and the third is about 20 miles out of my way.
So I grabbed the dog and started out Santa Fe.  Road closed.  No signs, no nothing just a giant traffic backup.  After 20 minutes of this grid lock, I made a u-turn and headed back to town.  I grabbed the Interstate (since that end of Santa Fe was blockaded) and got off on First Street.  Then to fourth, out Joplin, under the bridge, East on Roselawn, through Salt Creek since I needed eggs, to the Mexican store, who did not have eggs and then home.
Now you should know I am a devoted Obama fan.  Love the man and did not go to the rally cause I wanted to leave my ticket for someone who might need swayed.  I would dearly love to see him up close and personal, but me and crowds just aren't a happening thing.
So now that the frustration of fighting the police at every turn is behind me and I am safe in my little home once more, I have a few things I want to say to President Obama.  I hope he reads this because I mean it all in a very nice way.
"Mr. President, I am so happy that you were able to spend a night and day in our fair city.  I know you like Mexican Food and I am in complete agreement with you there, but next time, could you just have those guys run out and pick it up for you?  It would make my life a lot easier.  See there is only one road onto the Mesa and it makes it really hard on us who have to go there.  Or maybe you could eat a little faster? 
Any way, you have my vote, whatever and where ever you eat, I am in it for the long haul.  Oh, and give my regards to Michelle."
There, that being said I am off to watch the news.  I just love it when he waves at me and flashes his pearly whites my way.

Sherman Schroeder Memorial at South Side Johnny's.

Today was a wonderful day.  This morning I toodled off to Colorado Springs to attend the British Motorcycle Association of Colorado meeting.  Remember I told you that Sherman and two other guys started this back in 1983?  Today they paid homage to thier fallen leader.  First there was a memorial DVD put together by his nephew, Brent Schroeder of Boulder.  That was so very touching.

I took a photo album and the big picture that Carmen had put together for the farewell party.  she gave it to me so it is mine now.  (Thank you so much, new friend Carmen.)  In the photo album is a picture of Sherman in front of a cop car.  Validation for Dana when he said Sherman was the only member of the club to ever get a speeding ticket.  Seems Sherman liked to ding around at the back of the rides and watch the birds, squirrels, and clouds.  They would come to a pullout and wait for him to catch up, but this one time he was really late and they thought they should go look for him when he showed up with ticket in hand because he was hurrying to catch up.  Bad Sherman!!

Then Dana, Jerry and Todd had kind words to say.  I know bikers are supposed to be big and hairy and all that, but these guys apparently haven't recieved the memo yet as they were not all dry eyed.  And there were ladies there also.  I drank tea and it was paid for by a nice guy named Gary who sat at our table.  Wasn't that sweet?

See that bike?  (First I want to say my batteries were like blink city and I know better, but I forged ahead so I could show you these blurry pictures.)  Any way this thing was rescued from a shed and cleaned up, tuned up, fiddled with, sanded, painted, turboed, and God only knows what else and god only knows who all had thier hands inside her, but she is off to Bonneville Salt Flats and hopes to set a new speed record there.  John Stoner is the proud owner and the one who will be holding the handle bars when it shoots past the gun.  The whole club is so excited!  That is going to happen August 8-17 and I will keep you posted cause I am sure Dana and Jerry will keep me in the loop.  (?)

(Note to Amy...I wore the biker bitch sleeveless shirt you brought me from Daytona Beach.  I fit right in!  You would have been so proud!)

After Todd filled everyone in on all the happenings they left for a ride somewhere.  So rather than set there in the bar by myself I took my leave and went to see Pastor Faye.  We went to lunch at Country Buffet and she was telling me about the time she performed a marriage ceremony at the Sturgis Rally in South (?) Dakota and how upset the hierarchy got with her because she turned up on the national news.  Man I love that woman!

So I had a long day and now Kenna Rae, my step daughter is making me supper at her house.  Guess I will make it even longer.  I just want to thank the BMAC from the bottom of my heart for making me a part of their group for the day.  Bet Sherman saw that and smiled. 

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Chapter One...Loose Ends by Lou Mercer can be bought here with the little paypal button.

Lordy! This is a giant bee hive!

Here is the house and what you need to know is that there are bees there!  Well, not exactly in the house but out back.  I needed to clean the yard, so Bret had the brush hog and I went to pick up an old stool and stirred up a nest full under there.  Then he moved a set of saw horses into the garage and another nest full of them.  Well, then we decided we ought to go eat and let them settle down.  As Mark was locking the door one came all the way around the house and stung him on the foot.

Poor Mark!  All he had done while we were stirring them up was to set in the garage and do an inventory sheet.  He had not even stuck his little nose out the door.  I felt really bad about that! 

I expect this home will be listed for sale soon.  Course we have to make it presentable.  You saw the slide show of this and know it is three stories and a basement.  And I just love the interior of this thing.  Something about a Victorian.  If I  were not so firmly ensconced out here on the mesa I would be moving in here myself.  True it needs lots of work, but this would make an absolutely beautiful home.

 This is in a very quiet neighborhood.  The kayak course is right down the hill.  Shopping within walking distance.  Oh, yeah, and Starbucks nearby.  Call for details.

Chapter One...Loose Ends

Available here online.

Colorado Avenue Antiques, Pueblo, Colorado

Wandered into the old Ambrosia Health Food building the other day and there was my little friends Ron Lombardi and Eric Gibson.  Seems they have bought the building which is 3 floors and done a ton of renovations.  The top floor is an apartment and since it is rented to an individual I could not see it, but I did see before and after pictures and it is fabulous.

The main level and the second level are full of antiques as you can see in the slide show.  The top level is thier antiques and the main level is leased to other people.  They are currently working on the Christmas room which features a silver pompom tree.  But don't tell them I ratted them off.

And across the street looking out the second floor is Netties Candies which I might like to visit.  If you notice the doors have many locks.  That is because it used to be a marijuana distributor.  But now it is an antique place and I love it. 

Colorado Ave. Antiques

112 Colorado Ave.

Pueblo, CO 81004

719-225-8293

Monday -Saturday 10-5

Sunday 12-4

Wonderful way to while away some time and remember the good old days.

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Libby and Jeff, look at this.

This is a slide show I took and it is completely backwards.  But you get the idea if you watch me .  There is the house, then we go inside and up the stairs to the second floor and then the dreaded third floor.  See I have it nice and cleaned out.  Bret was fascinated with the register that lets warm air come from the bottom floor all the way up.  If we fell through the register we would land by the front door.
You can get a good shot of the guano from the bats, but then see the room is so neat.  You could live up there on the third floor and then just open the book case and over you go to the secret room.  I just love this old house.

And today I took a walk before breakfast!

Yep.  I did that.  Snapped the leash on the Daisy dog cause she has become abnormally attached to me.  I guess she knows I am kind of sad, but she never gets out of my sight or away from my side.  And she cries when I leave.  Tomorrow I may take them both.  Elvira has little short legs and I will probably end up carrying her home. 
We only went about 3/4 of a mile but it was very nice.  I used to do that a lot, but rather got out of the habit the last month.  And now this afternoon I have people coming to buy some of the cake decorating stuff.  More of it that I can sell outright, less I have to list on ebay.
And so I shall be off to church here in a bit.  Course I have to plug my book while I am on here anyway.  Oh, and tell you that I am working on book #2.  I am kind of having fun with this and probably not going to have as much sex and mayhem in the next one, so better get this one while you can.

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Is it writer's block or is it just life catching up with me?

Those of you who know me, know that I lost a very dear friend and companion one week ago.  The fact that he passed on Friday the 13th did not escape my notice and indeed did bring a smile to my face and heart because it was so like he had actually chosen that day out of all the others.  He did have that sort of sense of humor.

So now I am here alone again thinking of all the questions I should have asked him about his growing up years, the years he travelled the country, the sail boat he and a friend built and sailed to Guatemala, his business in Denver, and all sorts of things.  And he had very long arms.  I wanted to measure with our elbows together to see where my fingers would end on his arm. 

This picture was taken in front of his house when his brother came to visit.  Poor dear was always cold it seemed.  I would love to tell you all about this part of my life, but I am restricted so I will just tell you this: Yes, he and I were very close and in a different time and place we would no doubt have taken our relationship to a much deeper level, but that did not happen.  We did discuss it at great length even as we knew his time on this earth was limited.  I would have been most honored to have been his wife.

But that is niether here nor there and now I must get my life back together and move on.  I want you all to know that I appreciate your patience and while moving on is not an easy task, it will be done.  This blog is my way of easing a little of the pain I feel and if I have offended anyone about all I can say is "Sorry, but he was mine, too."

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Want to buy your copy of Chapter One....Loose Ends?  It is available online at www.loumercer3.com

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Stolen stuff from Max Hale that you should see.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ePrlgr55C-c&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Pastors for Peace caravan to Cross US/Mexico border July 19th

Media Advisory
Pastors to Challenge US Blockade of Cuba
Caravan to Cross US/Mexico Border with 100 Tons of Humanitarian Aid to Cuba
When: 10 AMThursday, July 19th
Where: McAllen/Hidalgo International Bridge Border Crossing
Contact: Jennifer Wager 917.499.4882
Tamara Hansen 778.882.5223
Lucia Bruno 347.423-4330/212.926.5757
Organizers of a humanitarian aid caravan that uses civil disobedience to challenge the US blockade and travel ban of Cuba will cross the US/Mexico border with nearly 100 tons of humanitarian aid the morning of July 19th.
Organizers are unsure what to expect from the US border authorities given their experience crossing from Canada into the US on July 1st. US border authorities initially refused to let sporting equipment through, but caravan supporters mounted a 24 hour protest and border officials relented.
“We are determined to get this aid to our brothers and sisters in Cuba. Our struggle must continue until this immoral, cruel and counterproductive US blockade of Cuba is ended,” stated IFCO Co-Director Father Luis Barrios.
IFCO Co-Director Gail Walker added, “The US blockade has cost Cuba $750 billion in medical care, education equipment and food, yet they still provide for their people and set an example for the world. Now is the time to implement a people to people foreign policy that respects Cuba’s sovereignty.”
After the border crossing, scores of caravanistas will travel through Mexico on to Cuba, without asking for a license or permission from the US government. In Cuba caravanistas will visit hospitals, cultural centers, churches and other organizations focused on Cuba’s sustainable development efforts.
As the caravanistas are crossing the border, they will stop to recognize the ongoing inhumane treatment of Gerardo Hernández, one of the Cuban Five anti-terrorist fighters held in US prisons. Hernández, who is in the appeals process of his double-life sentence, is currently being denied consular and legal visitation rights by US authorities.
Mientras las caravanistas cruzan la frontera, reconoceran al tratamiento inhumano de los cinco luchadores antiterroristas injustamente encarcelados en Estados Unidos, el Héroe de la República de Cuba, Gerardo Hernández Nordelo, acaba de ser objeto de una nueva arbitrariedad por parte de las autoridades de ese país, con el propósito de obstruir su proceso legal.
This is the 20th Anniversary Friendshipment Caravan organized by IFCO/Pastors for Peace, which crisscrossed the US and Canada, stopping in nearly 100 cities. Thousands have supported the caravan along the way in support of a foreign policy based on respect and non-aggression with Cuba.
The Pastors for Peace Friendshipment Caravan is a project of the Interreligious Foundation for Community Organization (IFCO.), which has been been working for racial, social, and economic justice since 1967.

Another Chapter is ended.

"Oshermo"

Sherman Joseph Schroeder, Jr.

2/17/1935

7/13/2012

Some one once said that in order to have a friend you must first be a friend.

So very true in this case.

Sadly missed by a multitude of friends.

Until my other site is tied in, you can buy my book here.

Want to buy a copy of Chapter One...Loose Ends?  Here you go!

Riverside Printing is my friendly printer!

When I decided that I really wanted to publish this book, I wanted to go local because Pueblo needs the money as bad as anyone else.  So I called several printing companies in search of one who did books and that included the "perfect binding" as opposed to the spiral.  I found one, took my info in the them and they promised a price.  Two days later I stopped in and the boss was still not in.  Couple more days and a couple more phone calls and still nothing.  After almost two weeks I renewed my quest.  And that is when I found Riverside Printing!

Here we are right on the corner of 9th and Elizabeth.  Riverside Printing. 

And here is Evelyn, who took my order, gave me a price and told   me all the little things I needed to know to make this book a reality!  Very nice lady.  I left my little flash drive with her and toddled on home, still raw from my first rejection.  Hopefully this one would want my money!

                                             

I was absolutely amazed when the phone rang that evening and Evelyn had a price for me!  I was astounded at the price, but then we discussed a larger quantity and the price began to fall.  My hat is off the that woman!  And then again when I ordered the books and said I would like a proof copy, I sat back to wait.  Soon I received a call for my original art work as it needed a bit of a tweek.  Emailed that over and sat back to wait.  Nothing on Friday, so I figured it would be another one of those deals.  Silly me!

The phone rang on Saturday afternoon.  Lady named Susie was at the golf course ready to tee off and had my proof in the car and if I would run by and pick it up she could get on with her game. I did not know that anyone in this town actually did business on Saturday!  So off I went and picked it up and the rest is history.   The pictures and barcode were perfect.  Inside looked good (I have since found a booboo, but that is my bad.) so we were good to go. 

I picked up 10 copies on Friday and those are already gone.  So I am waiting for Susie to crank up the presses and then I will launch the website and very soon you will have your copy in your hands!

One of my dreams has come true.

WHOOPS!!!



BMAC comes to visit the founding father of the club

"Band of Brothers," "Brothers of the Wheel" "Brothers of the Road", what ever you call them, today was a day of celebration at University Park Care Center here in Pueblo, Colorado.  Long known as being one of the better places in the state for long and short term care, they have now gone a step above and beyond that.  Imagine, if you can, that you are no longer in complete control of your life and are completely at the mercy of a staff that takes charge of every aspect of your every day care.  Wouldn't you like to be in a place that actually cares?

Today the staff welcomed the arrival of the British Motorcycle Association of Colorado as they made a road trip down to see one of the founding fathers of the group.  Sherman Schroeder and two of his friends founded the group in Denver, Colorado in 1983.  It was with great pride and a lump in my throat that I watched the riders coming up Desert Flower and parking along the road.  And then the bikers all came inside for a final rally with the leader.  Chocolate frosting on a white cake decorated with two motorcycles followed by a toast to Sherman, visiting and then the finale.  Sherman made his way to the front of the building along with his two brothers. The bikers then slowly rode past one by one and saluted.  And then they were gone.

There are some things that are just to hard to talk about.  Suffice it to say it was a day filled with a great deal of sadness, but also an outpouring of love that makes me know that life is indeed worth living.


https://plus.google.com/photos/107798779496091974859/albums/5762601598937944929#photos/107798779496091974859/albums/5762601598937944929

I could not stop for death and so.....

I have often heard it said, "There are two things certain in this life; death and taxes."  Yet I read daily how someone is thinking they can beat the odds and off they go to prison; thus proving the first part of the saying and the long list on the obituary page solidifies the second part.  Friends come and friends go.  We move, change jobs, buy a new car, change religions, lose money in Vegas, and on and on; thus proving the adage.  There is nothing that moves this old heart more than a baby whether it be a human baby, a kitty, puppy, fluffy duck, or a baby fox that will grow up to eat my ducks!  It is the circle of life and it never ceases to fill us with awe.  We are filled with a driving need to survive and live life to the fullest.  Time is so short here on earth.

And yet, when a life threatening situation arises, we grasp life with both hands and hang on for all we are worth.  Our adrenal level kicks to high and we go into survival mode.  If it is a dangerous situation we call it "fight or flight."  We read about a complete stranger who wrests the child from the jaws of death, sacrificing himself for someone he does not know.  Or the soldier who dies in a forgien land to protect or freedom. 

But so much of what threatens our existence is buried inside where we can not see it in the form of cancer, AIDS, heart disease, or just plain old outliving our usefulness.  At some point in time, on some level of our existence we will face death. I can only pray that when my moment of truth comes I am able to calmly accept and embrace my ride to a much better place.  I had a good friend who flat lined in the hospital and was revived tell me this "I looked at the moniter when the nurses ran in.  It was flat.  I did not hear music and I did not see a bright light.  What I did feel was the greatest calm I have ever experienced in my life. Then the medicine kicked in and my heart started again.  When the time does come I will embrace death and the overwhelming calm with both hands!" 

This is a beautiful poem written years ago by Emily Dickinson.  She is one of my favorite poets and at this juncture of my life I feel this is most fitting.  She summarizes the whole thing better then I ever could.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labour, and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the school where children played,
Their lessons scarcely done;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries; but each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

Emily Dickinson

Do you know what this is? Deadly Oleander.

This is a beautiful Oleandar blooming on my deck.

                                 

No matter how you look at it you see something beyond comprehension as to how something this beautiful can be so deadly.  The leaves of the Oleandar are slender and grayish green.  And they can be made into a tea that will kill you.  I remember seeing that in a movie once and when I checked I seen that it was true.  course the description did not give me clear directions on how to make the tea, so I am probably not going to do that!

But it is something worth thinking about.