The ghosts of the past are alive and well!

I woke up at 4:15 this morning and was very surprised that I had a guy on my mind from my distant past.  Now I mean my way back there distant past.  My first boyfriend.  I was 17 years old and I thought the sun rose and set in that boy.  He took me to Joyland in Wichita one sunny afternoon.  We rode all the rides and when we got on the Roundup, my stomach had it's limit.  His name was Corky and he was so sweet and concerned about my welfare.  Throwing up on the Roundup was the high point of the day and we left soon after that.  We continued to for a while and then sort of drifted apart.  It was never a big romance, just a very comfortable relationship with some one with whom I could share my  hopes and dreams.

Years passed and I married and had a family.  I ended up in Garden City, Kansas.  When that marriage went south, I returned to Hutchinson.  There I met the second man in my life who would offer me comfort in a storm and ask nothing in return.  His name was Gib.  We never really dated so much as sort of hung out together.  He was a friend of my mom's.  He was also a cook and I was a waitress until I became a cook also.  He helped shop for Christmas Santa Claus gifts and helped put the things together on Christmas Eve.  He was engaged to a girl named Cheri, but though they lived together, they never married.  I never understood their relationship.  He and I were friends, but he and Cheri had something, and yet nothing.

The one thing both these guys and I had in common was that the relationships were purely platonic.  I never expected more and they never asked for more.  I can search the world over and never find 2 men that made such an impact on my life!  Ah, but hindsight is always clearer then foresight, isn't it?

Years passed and the AIDS epidemic reared it's ugly head.  Gib moved to California.  He died there.   I was in Pueblo by then.  Mother called and said Gib wanted to get together over Thanksgiving that year, but she was afraid.  I told her I could  and would love to come and see Gib.  I was not afraid.  I just wanted to see my old friend.  Plans were made, but he did not make it.  I know there was no funeral and he is in an unmarked grave.  I still miss him.  The very first panel on my AIDS Memorial Quilt is for Gilbert Fields.

I learned later that Corky had also passed.  He was also a statistic in the early stages of the epidemic.  Jimmy came later.  And Mark.  And Mike.  And a list that goes on and on and on.  I have always had a rapport with the gay community, even before I knew there was a gay community!  They have been my friends when I had no friends.  They held me up when I could have sunk beneath the waves.

I have no idea why these two guys are on my mind today, but there they are.  I just wanted to share with you, my readers, a small glimpse into my past so you can maybe understand why I am who I am today and why I do the things I do.  I guess I am trying to give back to the community that cared for me when I did not care for myself.

Wouldn't it be nice if it was this easy?

I believe in Jesus Christ and accepted him as my PERSONAL LORD AND SAVIOR . One Facebooker has challenged all believers to put this on their wall. In The Bible it says, if you deny me in front of your peers, I'll deny you in front my father at the Gates of Heaven. This is simple. If you love God, and you are not afraid to show it re-post. Just copy and paste this.

Found this on facebook.  Well, I actually find one like this on facebook every time I scroll through.  Actually I find several of these daily and I have now come to the conclusion that this is why my church, and many like it, are down in the attendance area.  If I love Jesus all I have to do is copy and paste this, because Jesus has a facebook account and he reads this stuff.  It works much like the letter to Santa.  If I be good and send a letter to Santa and tell him I have been good, he will bring me lots of presents.  I can ask for whatever and I will get it.  I do not even need to have a witness that I have been good, because by simply writing that letter I qualify.

And I know facebook is a venue for God, because so many people post these, but let me tell you a secret.  I have gone to their "friend list" and I can not find Jesus on there!  That troubles me.  If Jesus is not on their friend list, how can they claim him for their friend and better yet, how can they offer me salvation by me just clicking a button?   Since I am such a sceptic in this area, I think I will just skim over those posts.  

I am going to take my chances out in the real world and in my church on Sunday morning.  I like to commune with God when walking up a trail in Beulah, or around Runyon Lake.  I like to visit my friends in Hospice and smile at people in the grocery store.  I like to gather things for Los Pobres, and the Goodwill and sad little people on the corner.  With a little luck God may look down when I am playing with a puppy and say,  "Hey, she looks like she would make a good addition to my kingdom!"  

Sure hoping so any way.  So you go ahead and try it your way, but please do not try to make be beleive  that I have to share your post or I am going to hell.

Rest in Peace always.

Delbert Leroy Bartholomew

(Jake)

October 5, 1937-October 31, 1965

Frozen forever in time.

He taught me to love conutry music.

He taught me to fish.

He taught me patience.

He was my brother.

Brothers never die.

Saurkraut time? Oh, yeah!

Fall is in the air and I kicked the furnace on last night.  This morning I am setting here freezing with shoes, flannel pajamas, and a sweater.  Course a hot cup of coffee rounds out the picture.  I used to have a cigarette and an ashtray, but those days are long gone.  So what am I planning for today?  Going to be a busy one!

First I am off to breakfast with Kay and Frank who are getting ready to leave soon for the balmy breezes in Southern Texas.  As soon as breakfast is over I am headed for the produce stand up the road.  I think I am good on green chile's, but I will check that.  My goal for today is to find the good white cabbage and dig the crock out of the tin shed.  Yep!  You guessed it!  It is time to make sauerkraut!  I shall tote my cabbage home and begin the process.

I will wash and scald the 5 gallon crock.  Then I will dig out the mandolin that I inherited from Sherman.   With everything now in place I will begin by cutting each head in 6-8 wedges, depending on the size of the head, and begin the slicing process.  I want the slices uniform and very thin.  I have a big white plastic Tupperware container and when there is about 6 inches of cabbage in it I will sprinkle it with a heaping tablespoon of canning salt.  Next comes the tedious part.  I take my fist and work and mash the salt into the cabbage, bruising it and causing it to release juice.  When I have worked it enough that it starts to be a tad bit soupy (no way to tell you, just got to feel it) I will put it in the crock.

Now, I don't know it you have ever done this, but after a while my knuckles begin to get very tender and by the time the crock is half full I begin to wonder what in the hell I was thinking, so I take a break.  And then I remember what this is all about.  I love sauerkraut!  I do not love the stuff at the store in cans.  I do not love the stuff at the store in the refrigerated part either.  I love sauerkraut that is made with cabbage and salt and covered with a clean cheese cloth that is weighted down with a brick in my basement.

Oh, trust me, in about 2 weeks this big old house is going to stink to high heaven of rotten cabbage.  I will have to check it daily and remove anything that looks like it does not belong there, but in about 2 - 3 months, I will have the best sauerkraut in the world!  It is a lot of work, but worth every minute of it.  My knuckles will heal in due time and by then it will have stopped "working" and it will be time to process it.  This entails bagging it in my "seal a meal" bags and freezing it for future use.

I do not ever remember mother or anyone else making saurekraut, but somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I know what has to be done.  When Bret and Shelley were little I was fixing lunch for them and I made hot dogs.  I asked if they wanted the hotdogs cooked in with the saurkraut.  When Shelley asked what saurekraut was, Bret replied, "It is rotten cabbage."  As I recall that was the end of the discussion, but they did eat it.

Now, those of you who know me, know how many people live in my house and of all those people, only one eats saurekraut and that is me!  I may be considered an eccentric old woman going to all this work, but the way I got it figured is this:  I am only going around once.  Just once.  I am going to dance naked when I feel like it, howl at the moon, and eat what I want, which at this time of year is sauerkraut!  So if you want to smell rotten cabbage, come on over!  If not then don't, but it is Fall here in Pueblo, Colorado and Spring is a long way in the future, so I am going to be a little squirrley and put away my food for the Winter!

The ruler of the roost is now bringing this old lady to her knees!

If you wonder who this is, it is Icarus.  I have had her for 4+ years.  She was named by Sherman and I told him Icarus was the little fellow in Greek (?) Mythology that flew too close to the sun and melted HIS wings, but she was name Icarus nonetheless!  As you can see, she makes herself right at home wherever she is.  It is quite alright with her if I have to set on the hard chair as long as her hairy little self if comfy!

She is very much at ease with the dogs, as you can see!  She likes to go out in the evening when I close the goose house.  She hides behind the trash barrel and leaps out at the dogs when they go past headed for the house.

This is bedtime.  5 kitty treats on the dresser for Icarus and a milkbone for each dog.  Old picture since I still  had carpet, but the routine is still the same. 

Looks like Daisy might have started smoking in this picture.

Elvira is just naturally a lady.

But back to the subject at hand.