Oh, we ain't got a barrel of money

But we have fun anyway! Last Saturday the mate treated us to a night out. Very date like. We left early and drove around soaking up the last of the fall colors and the green fields of winter wheat. They will be gone all too soon, buried under billows and drifts of the nasty white stuff.

We stopped at a family style diner for dinner and enjoyed it. We haven't been getting out much - budget ya know. But the food was good and the prices are reasonable there. With plenty of time yet we went back out cruising.

Along the river in a a town not far from home we found the lovely weather had others out doing the same thing. There was a line for the one lane covered bridge and another at the corner to get back to town.

We needed a few things so we stopped at the Goodwill and the dollar store to pick them up. I found a neat gift for a friend. I have to get it in the mail yet. I also found one book to read later. I am always "out of books" but I keep the re-readables around for times like that. It's nice to get something new in fantasy or SciFi.

I am looking for one called "Eldest" now. It's second in a series by a 19/21 year old male human. The first one was great entertainment. "Eragorn" I think it was called. The mate picked it up for me at (OMG) Kmart and I was not expecting much from it. It was a great surprise to find I not only enjoyed it but was pouting because I would have to wait for the second one.

I have family over that way I don't see very often and talked the mate into running along the river the other way so I could drop in on them when we were done shopping. We enjoyed the drive, it's very rural, cows, farms with red barns backdropped by colorful tree lines and even a Sugar Bush. I love maple sugar candy! The swath of color along the river reflected in the moving water even got a few oohh's and aahh's out of me.

I enjoyed surprising the cousin and the aunt. The uncle and the other cousin were not around. I always enjoyed visiting there. They had a big gravel pit and land along the ridge and the river. It was a huge play ground for kids and we all made the most of it when we went to visit. We didn't stay long because we were getting close to movie time but it was fun to see them.

I got surprised myself, at how old the cousin and the aunt appeared to be. I don't think of myself as old, I don't see me as old, just experienced. When I see people who no longer match my mental image of them I think, "How sad, they are so OLD looking now." and blithely wander on my way. Then I catch sight of myself in the window reflection of the truck or somewhere and am appalled to see I resemble my grandmother and my mother and my father and they were old when I was little!

As long as I am ramming around doing what I want to do with no pain or restrictions, I feel - oh...17 or so. The minute I have to find a way to accomodate my hip or slow down because of my heart or lack of stamina I feel my age. But I ignore the fact that I must also LOOK my age.

I see me as my avatar or the nice lady at the top of this post. I never looked like either of them, but that is how I see me on the inside. Are you all confused now? So am I. How you can think you are one way, be another way and feel yet a third way and then resolve all that with the closest mirror view of yourself is beyond me but there ya go.

We made it back to the theater in time to see The Return of Zorro. We loaded up on popcorn and root beer then killed some time on the claw machine. This one was no fun. You win every time but it costs two dollars to play and win a 25 cent prize. I didn't like it, no element of chance anymore.

We finally got seated and settled in for the movie. We yawned through the commercials and ads in tandem. Zorro started out fast but I don't feel the stunts in this movie were as well done as the first one. There were a couple good laughs and the kid was a riot. It had a little more depth to the characters but the twist to the plot was obvious, even to me. I give it a 6, good entertainment but I would wait for the CD.

None of that changed the fact that I was out with my best guy and had enjoyed a wonderful afternoon. The ride home in the dark was fun, chatting about the movie and treats we had for the dogs and how nice it was to get out with each other. Note to couples: Just because you are happily living together doesn't mean that time away from the routine isn't important. A walk in the park or a trip to the beach is refreshing for both of you. It reminds me of why I like my man so much- he's a great boyfriend!

But it still looks like a horse in striped pajamas

to me!

Perspective. It's a twisty topic. I see a zebra now, but I saw a horse in striped pajamas once and some see a black zebra with white stripes, others a white animal with black stripes. I saw Peter Pan fly, now I see the wires and some people can't even see Peter Pan at all. I saw fairies and elves and leprechauns, now I see patterns in the bark, the grass and the leaves. Some people see them, some people believe I saw them and some people think I was/am nuts. I see a person learning and growing and they see someone who has lost everything they attempted to accomplish.

The niece is being asked nicely to take a medical discharge. Her legs and arm don't work like they used to and now the army says they can't do anything else for her. With her training there are desk jobs she could do but I don't think they like to have wounded vets sitting out where the new soldier recruits can see them....and that is wrong.

What is she supposed to do for medical treatment? Work with the VA that is so backed up that it takes months to get the paper work through, much less get seen by a doctor. This is not acceptable!

She spent, what seems like to her, long years qualifying for the army, going through basic, testing for positions, taking extra training and changing her MO when she went airborne. She was deployed to Iraq to do her job and now she's back in the USA being told everything she worked for over the last five years no longer applies. Thanks and good bye.

Is her time wasted? Is the learning wasted? Is her life being wasted? I think the army is wasting a talented soldier by not finding work for them in the service til her time is served. But her life wasted - no.

So she doesn't need to know how to jump out of an airplane everyday. The confidence it gave her stayed. She won't need to be able to know how to research the latest risks for daily patrols anymore but the training to do research applies to many positions. She can't run 30 miles in full armor with a loaded pack but she at least HAS her legs and arm. They will work to get her around. She will know in every war movie what is real and what is pretend, she can tear down and rebuild her guns and her cousin can teach her to load her own ammo. She knows how to take care of herself and, more importantly, she KNOWS she can take care of herself.

Education is never wasted. At the very least it can be passed on to someone who needs it, at best it can save a life. Living and doing your best at whatever you are trying to do is never wasted. You learn what you can and can't do and you learn how to do it well. You will find that most of life is learning new things and how to do them efficiently and well.

Coming to a complete halt and having to change directions like she will have to do is a shock but she knows she can learn, she knows she can take care of herself and so she can choose a new direction she thinks she will enjoy and KNOW she can go that way well. And if she was wrong she can change to another career or training program and go on from there.

I have a half crochet lawn chair, a quilt top with 6 of 10 rows done in a bag upstairs, all the stuff to do a beach theme wall decoration that I gathered myself about 8 years ago in a box upstairs. I have a pile of jeans and shirts ready to be cut into another quilt top I have been wanting to make for my whole life of denim and flannel with the old fashioned heavy batting in it because I like to FEEL tucked in by the weight of a quilt. I hate feather blankets, you can't even tell they are there. That's just a partial list of things I have learned and left behind.

You learn new things, you do them a while, you move on. Yes, I still whine about the quilts but I gave up on the chair and the beach wall decoration. I learned to do HTML and am working on CSS and XML. I can program in basic and make a ball bounce around a screen with a little gun to shoot at it on a commodore 64. I can change the strings on a guitar and tune it by ear or with the piano or electric tuner. I used to be able to sing more than 400 songs and play them from memory. I learned where every little thing was and how much it cost in the retail store I worked in. That is when I realized I was forgetting my song lyrics. I know basic first aid, CPR and think I could set a broken bone in an emergency. I can delegate tasks and authority, build and run a data base in several programs and bake a cherry pie. I can read and follow instructions.

I don't need to know any of these things to do sales well. So they are "useless knowledge". Aren't they? No. Why not? Because you never know everything and you never know what you might need to know tomorrow - or later today.

I never grew up saying I wanted to be anything in particular so I never knew what to study for. I am sorry for that now. You can learn to do anything and change your mind later but if you learn to do nothing that is all you can do. I guess I should have gone into the DNR as I hate what they are doing with our public lands in MI and I might be able to change it. I should have been a teacher as I love to see the little light blink on over a kid's head when they grasp a concept. I might have been a social worker but I could never stay inside the rules when I saw someone needed help. I wish I could be a polititian but history makes that unlikely.

While I still have things I want to learn not many of them would add to my ability to increase my income. And when I die I won't need to know any of this stuff. Is it useless to learn anything then?

Pick a direction and go that way. Do it well. Make a living. If you don't like it, move on in a new direction. If you have one marketable skill to carry you -nursing, teaching, plumbing, drywall, construction, driving a big truck, child care, computers - you can find the time and the money to learn to do what ever else comes along and interests you later.

The most important thing you take with you from your childhood should be reading and learning HOW to learn. Even our vets coming back as para and quadriplegics are having to learn many daily skills from scratch and find a way to look at life that I don't know if I would have the strength of character to carry through on.

Every time you do something positive for yourself you add a little bigger chance of the next day being even better for you.

It's life - Live it! If you don't like yours then change it. Take control of your future by doing something to improve it today. One little thing at a time will add up to big changes down the road. Trust me - from homeless panhandler to happy home owner didn't happen overnight but it happened.

The ghouls all came from their humble abodes

I hear Moo has been having trouble with the crickets during his celebration of his birthday. I thought I give him a hint on how to deal with unruly crickets.

Emergency Halloween treats.
- 25 live adult crickets- 4 squares of semi-sweet chocolate

Rinse the crickets, pat them dry and freeze them for half an hour until they're dead. Once they're dead, take them out of the freezer and pull off their legs and heads. Then, put them in an oven set at 250 degrees until they're crunchy (about 15 to 20 minutes). While the crickets are baking, melt the semi-sweet chocolate in a double-boiler (keeps it from burning). Once the crickets are done, dip them in the melted chocolate and put them on a sheet of wax paper so the chocolate can set. Then, once they've cooled off, invite your friends over for a treat!

If that doesn't straighten them out, sit a can of this on the coffee table. It should turn them into

quiet little angel crickets watching tv.

For the rest of you that don't have trouble with insects I found this goulish halloween appropriate discovery on the internet. DO NOT go there, Moo! I mean this is really icky!

Now it any of you are stuck with kids with nothing to do but eat candy and make you crazy I found a couple really cute ideas to entertain them with.

One of them is this black cat maze. Click it to get the larger image to print.

The other is, of course, finger puppets. These I had forgotten about, you can make them walk, run, dance or kick crickets in the butt..LLLL.



In our little town when I was a kid the firemen and police got together and had a big bonfire up by the football field and served us cider, donuts and we had hotdogs and marshmallows to roast.

It was a great way to keep us out of trouble after trick or treating.

I hope you have all had a wonderful time!

When falling leaves drift by my window

Those falling leaves, of red and gold....Meet my Fall Fairy self. I have always loved autumn.

I FINALLY got a photo I feel safe in posting. Anvil gives me an inferiority complex...LOL.

It was supposed to rain all last week and the trees were at their most vunerable; full of color; dry and fragil. If it did rain they were all going to lose their foliage. I got a wild hair and asked the mate to take me for a drive with the camera. He was most willing so we went out prowling back roads for color.

There were lots of beautiful stands of trees but because we live in farming country many of them were too far away to get a good photo of from the road. Then you get lucky.

We were just driving out of a tunnel of trees and I got this shot through the windshield. Beauty, eh? I will add just one more for today, been getting a little grapic heavy here lately.

We really enjoyed the drive and gave a little change in routine without exausting me after work. I got several more nice shots I will post later.

The east coast family checked in and they are ok and reports of the wedding in Cocoa Beach are raves. One person had to wait to fly out of Orlando but they were far enough north that no damage was done beyond some wind taking branches down.

I hope you all enjoy the holiday and your weekends. Just one more before I go. The crickets (see side bar for link) have a really interesting link today. I found the guy it is about.

Costume Ideas

Well that's strange....Who do you suppose THIS little trick or treater is? (LLLLLLLLL!)





How about these guys? Who are they trying to fool?


If you want them the old fashioned way.....







Have Fun!

I'll be seeing you in all the old, familiar places - sort of

Well, in my usual "hurry up and post" way, I missed linking to Amber and Re-dirt's posts yesterday...so they are here now. Sorry guys! How Wud!

Then I got "blogger's block". I was going to do more ghost stories but there are so many really good ones out there that I kinda froze up, I guess. I wrote about my haunts earlier in the year. It was a poem and you probably thought it was some far out reference to how bread has to rise and ghosts rise, lol, but it wasn't.

We burned out in '88. It was September when we got a new place up to move into. Grama died right around then. When people were all "I want the coin collection" and the like I was happy knowing I would have Grama's books and the bookcase my grampa built. We read and did word puzzles all the time and she always got me books or magazines for gifts. She was a Scrabble wizard!

For me, it's the thought, the sharing of an item that makes it special, not what it costs. So when all the toting away was done my sister and I were going to close out the apartment so the Mom and Uncles wouldn't have to deal with it. There was nothing else there anyone wanted. We were to box it up and take it to Mom's garage if we couldn't find homes for it.

This is where I really scored. I had nothing for my kitchen yet and all Grama's stuff was available. The cookie cutters I learned to make soft cookies with, the rolling pin and big mixer, the copper coated aluminum canaster set and matching bread box that had a top shelf in it where the cookies were always kept, the butter tray, relish dishes, sugar bowl and creamer of pressed glass, and her reciepe box and tons more!

All these things were items I had set her table with on holidays, learned to cook with, watched her use and raided (for cookies) since I was just little. I had dried and put away almost all the wine glasses. The aluminum glasses in the small size for kids were the ones we drank out of on regular visits, they wouldn't break but they made a heck of a racket when you dropped them on the tiles!

I had watched her cut pickles into perfect slices and put in the relish tray and then get the dainty bowl that matched and fill it with cranberry relish, carefully wiping the edge with a cloth before she handed it to me to take to the table. I couldn't believe none of her kids wanted them! Things she used everyday I am still using, and glad to have them, to teach my grands how to cook. They are trash on a scale of ten cents to a diamond but they are a comfort and legacy to me.

We got the apartment shut down between the two of us and hauled most of the stuff to Mom's till they decided what they wanted to do with it. Everyone was more than pleased to let me have the things my family needed. Along with the kitchen things there were some lamps and other little odds and ends, a round wooden jewelry box with some avon stuff in it, I still have most of it. And none of it ever acted strange except the bread box.

In Grama's kitchen the bread box sat on the counter near the stove and by the door to the breakfast nook. As I mentioned, the top shelf always had a package of store bought cookies tucked away in the dark and there was a loaf of fresh bread and maybe a package of opened crackers on the bottom. The latch on this is a round knob on one side that screws into a metal tang. To close it you turn the knob and the tang slides across the top edge of the door. There are no springs, latches or levers other than the plain tang. When it is closed the tang is upright. It doesn't list to the left or the right. When the screw loosened several years before Grama died the uncle tightened it and used a rubber band to make sure the tang stayed tightly against the top of the box.

But I hadn't had it two weeks when I was making dinner one night and the metal door flipped open, banging the knob on the counter and making a noise like a gong. I jumped about a mile!

I put down the soup can I was emptying, dusted my hands off and went over to see what the problem was. I checked the latch, it was fine, I checked where the knob screws in, it was ok, I checked for kittens, none in evidence - which meant nothing - but they were not counter crawlers usually as I did not allow cats on tables and counters. So I shrugged to myself, closed it back up and went back to adding milk to the can to measure for the soup. I poured the milk into the pan and stirred the soup so it wouldn't lump and gave the can a little tap on the rim of the pan to get the last bit out.

I went to throw the can away and "BANG!!!" The bread box door flew open again. I jumped, again. I hate loud sudden noises! Twice in five minutes was a little strange and I stopped to consider the situation.

Now my grama grew up in the depression. We won't talk about her sisters and her having to be split up because the family couldn't feed them and living with strangers and such but I will mention she always stretched everything as far as it would go. Aluminum foil was washed and dried then folded and put in a drawer for next time. Cans were scraped clean with a spatual, opened on both ends, rinsed out, the lid put flat inside and then smashed flat before they were thrown away, socks were mended, buttons put back on shirts and each tool she used, mixer, iron or lawn mower, was wiped down clean and put away correctly every time she used it. You didn't get new, you made do!

I stood there, alone in the kitchen, holding the stupid soup can in my hand and started to cry. I went over and got the spatula out, scraped every bit of soup and milk into the pan on the stove, wiped the blade of the spatula on the pan, went to the sink, rinsed out the can, tore off the label and put it in the burn bag and the can in the trash.

Then I went over and shut the bread box door and felt better.

It wasn't 3 days later and I was getting breakfast around on a Saturday. I let the refridgerator door hang open while I sat the milk down and went back for the butter. I had JUST set the milk down and "WHAANNGG!" The bread box door slapped open and I went up in the air about 9 feet and hollered, "WHAT!?"

Then I realized the fridge was still open, went back, got the butter tray out and shut the fridge, took the butter to the table, sat it down and went over to the bread box. I checked the hinges, the latch, the knob all the while knowing they were going to be fine.


You did not waste the cold of a fridge. When she was little it was a real ice box. A wooden box with a tin liner in the bottom where the ice went and a shelf with it's own door above it to keep the milk and such in and letting the cold out meant the ice wouldn't last till tomorrow. She must have told me a thousand times, "Don't stare at it, get something out or shut the door," when I would look for a snack at her place.

So I closed the bread box door again. Mom was over a couple weeks later and the door dropped open while we drank our coffee. So I told Mom her Mom said hello and then had to tell her the whole story. I like her, she doesn't laugh in my face!

It's not really a very scary story but she still sends me 9 feet in the air once in a while. But it's just grama and she never stayed mad long. And I try to do better with my recycling and leftovers and such. Right now she's probably cranky at me because I have a thermos in front of the bread box door and she can't fling it down at me when she wants to.

So BOO! and enjoy your weekend. I hope you sleep alright tonight.

Ding dong the witch is dead!

We heard from the Florida bunch, the two in Key West are staying to work, the two in Miami are headed to Orlando to hang out. We are still missing reports on the more northern bunch but I bet they are fine. We are a pretty resiliant group.

Ok, Amber and Re-dirt started it for me. Real ghost stories. Only ones you have experienced yourself.

It's almost Halloween/Samhain so why not? Well, maybe some of you think the rest of us will think you're crazy. What's the problem with that? This is a news flash? Most everyone thinks someone is crazy and at least one person must think you are already so what's the big deal?

Ok, raise a hand if - You won't walk under a ladder, open an umbrella in the house, do throw salt over your shoulder if you spill some, won't write check #666, believe that if your palm itches you will come into some money, actively search for four leafed clovers, carry a rabbit's foot, or walk around black cats rather than let them cross your path, won't step on a crack.....LOL!

So we are all a little weird, primitive, if you will and our strange tales give us tingles up our backs. Today I'm just leaving a short one but I will add more later.

I think my "most real" ghost lived in my friend's house in Kansas. It was just an old farm house and we never did find out why it was haunted.

We would be sitting around down stairs and hear furniture being rearranged up stairs. The heavy footsteps of a man with farmer boots on would be shoving dressers and beds back and forth across a hardwood floor.

The first time this happened my friend and I were drinking coffee and playing cards in the dining room. We had the stereo on but not overly loud. "Who's moving in upstairs?" I asked. As far as I knew she and all the rest of the band only used the downstairs rooms, I had the couch.

She looked at me funny, "You hear it, too!?"

"Well - YA! They are making a heck of a racket," I replied, and probably wrecking the floor up there," I added.

"Come on then, I'll introduce you," she said and slid back her chair, laid down her cards and headed for the door to the stairs. The bed upstairs made an exceptionally loud squeel as the steel legs were dragged across the floor. "Stay close," she told me as she opened the door and flipped on the single bulb at the top of the stairway.

The noises stopped. Not, the person quit moving stuff and walked out of the room, not the person sat on the bed to rest, they STOPPED dead.

I looked at her and we started up the stairs together, closely together. When we reached the top I can see that the upstairs is all one room and the floor is covered with a deep tan carpet. There are three cardboard boxes near the top of the stairs, and that is it.

We just stare a minute and I turn and head back down, glad to reach the stronger light of the dining room. She followed right behind me, switched off the light and shut the door to the stairs.

We sat back down at the table and picked up our cards. "So, what's his name?" I asked her.

"I don't know," she answered, "I just call him ghost guy. He never comes down stairs and we just don't go upstairs. It works."

A chill raced down my spine and I gave a little shiver. Sleeping on the couch that night proved to be a little difficult.

Oh, What a beautiful morning

Not. Watching Florida get nailed and waiting to see if Wilma runs up the coast to hit the already flooded states.

We have had a little rain here, nothing much, but we need it. I got out last night to spend some time gathering my seeds for next year. I got as many of the mystery red climbing flower as I could find because everyone wants some. Now that the back porch is a little more organized I may start some seeds early next spring.

After I got all the seeds I pulled the plant down and cut it off about 4" above the ground to see if it will come back up itself. I don't know if it is an annual or a perennial so we will just have to wait and see.

This spring we took the pines on the soouth of the house out but left the stumps as we only had a little chain saw and thought we would use them for bird houses or something. We did put a house on one and a watering pan on the other. When I took down the purple morning glories I discovered they are trying to come back. So tonight I have to get out there with my clippers and trim them to a tidy looking bonsai like form. They're kind of clumpy right now.

I got winded by then and wandered to the cosmos, zinnias and hollyhocks to get their seeds. By then it was getting dark.

The whole time I am working the stoner cat, Mystique, is running over to hide in the lilacs, till I forget she's there, then rushing me with the pounding steps of a large dog and making me jump! Grrrrrr! I holler, "CAT!" as a curse and a threat and she races joyusly back to the lilacs to do it again.

When I went to get the zinnias they are near the back edge of the property. The neighbor has a shepard and a lab/chow mix that - A) hate cats and B) hate me getting so close to their yard. The burn pit with it's waiting pile of sticks is behind me, nearer the house. The stoner cat is sneaking into the burn pile, I know because the dogs are not barking at me but at something behind me.

But if I don't concentrate I will have seeds everywhere except in the envelopes and I am trying to keep the mini, medium and large zinnia in their own packages. With only two hands, I get busy and forget about the stupid cat, get used to the dogs barking at me and juggle my envelopes, pen and sissors between my hands and my pockets.

I am down on one knee searching through the last of the mini zinnies. I really want some seed from the yellow mini zinnia but can't find one. They haven't set - WHOOSH! The dogs go off at intruder alert volumn eight feet from my head, the cat leaps over the flowers almost knocking the seeds from my hand and, of course, I jump! *)(&^%(# CAT!

So I say it's almost dark and quit. I could still have gotten the pink morning glory but I really quit because I don't know how much more "fun" playing with the cat I can take before I pop her with a rock!
_______________________________________________

Seal it with a kiss

I just wanna say I have had a great time this week on the blogs. I lost my pal Jezzy but maybe she will be back and I have picked up one or two new ones.

Thank you all for the entertainment and laughs or the tears and thought provoking way you have of making me think. I really enjoy it.

And thanks for having fun with the puppets! It's Friday and I am OUT of here!

MuuuWAH!

Happy Days are here again!

We have been playing with MooCow this week because he makes me laugh. All my blog friends and the lurkers out there (all 167 of you) that have been downloading and printing (I hope) Your Moo or cricket finger puppets have to all go see who the new commentor is here!

I was so tickled I made another finger puppet just to welcome them. I wouldn't want them to feel left out or ignored (mumble grumble).

So welcome, new blog mini pals!

Stormy Weather

I spent one sleepless night worried about my friends and family in MA because of the flooding and eight days of rain they have been dealing with. Now I get to stay awake wondering if the niece, Jewel, and family and friends are smart enough to realize that having a wedding at Coco Beach, FL might not be the smartest plan for the weekend.

Luckily the friends we have going down are the kind of people that will load the whole party on a trailer and tow it north with the tunes blasting all the way as they dodge the hurricane if they have to. I think the newest prediction is it will be further south of them. I feel badly for the neice. I hope it all works out for them.

I have been working on a website for a guy that has a new tool for picking up firewood without bending or stooping. It's pretty nifty. I don't recommend Moo see it, but the rest of you can check it out at "Simple" Simmons four legged Firewood "Spider" .

Anyway, he was meeting me at work to set up the site and such after work. I went out to let him in the door and there was a chick fight that looked fairly serious going on across the steet a piece. It appeared that the watching kids were trying to break them up but not succeeding. I started right over to shut them down, or at least treat the wounded, when a car screeched right next to them and parked the wrong way on the street. Another woman got out and approached the kids so I slowed down a little to see what the deal was.

As near as I could figure, she was the mom to one of the girls there. Her girl wasn't fighting. She tried to figure out what the fight was over but the girls made it sound like it was just name calling, started repeating some of them to each other and were off again, hair ripping and slapping and falling down. The other woman just stood there and watched. I told them I was calling the cops and went back to work.

See, I knew the problem was that neither the mom or I could touch a child that is not ours without legal repercussions and both girls needed to be "restrained". There is actually a law on the Michigan books that makes it a crime to "restrain" a minor. Truthfully, I decided I just did not have the time to go to jail for some stupid teens. There was no blood so I just went on with my site building and called the cops. The kids were well gone when they arrived, of course.

I hate physical conflicts. I have only been in two or three (that were not my sisters) and I did ok, but I didn't like it any better as a participant. You have to be able to defend yourself but I have not come up with a valid reason to attack another person, especially in school.

"She took my crayon", or "He pulled my hair," do not qualify, neither does boy/girl friend stealing, lying or rudeness. Saving face? Forget it. Calling chicken? Nope. There is no honorable reason to hit someone except to protect yourself or someone else and we are back to defense.

Stupid kids!

I went home late and the mate had sliced ham and swiss so I could have my favorite stacked ham and cheese hot on buns left over from the bn hn bjnh (my b key has been refusing to b on command - I just yanked it off and cleaned it up, sorry) big doings on Sunday.

I was so tickled with the kids Sunday. Not only did the girls (the mates girls, technically) make it with all but one grandboy, but my son and his wonderful wife with the newest grand girl took the time to join us. All the kids but one were there, she lives out of state and doesn't make it home much but we love her anyway. Then the Mom with the cousin came over and then my eldest nephew and his wife made it with their boy who is about 6 months older than the grand girl. Throw in a cat or two, I left the dogs outside, and it was a full house.

I had made plenty of my secret receipe sloppy joes, with chips, pickles, cheese, a birthday cake made by the mate's eldest and ice cream provided by his youngest there was more than enough for everyone.

The Lions screwed us up by losing spectacularly but other than that it was a great good time. We had a poker game going in the other room and the 3 older grand boys shot pool upstairs or rode the bicycles to the creek and back.

They started leaving with sleepy kids around 3:30. With no left overs and paper plates it was a quick clean up. Mate's eldest got him the robot movie with Robin Williams and that was dropped in for the rest of the afternoon. My eldest boy got him a new Kung Foo cronicle but he had to leave before we could watch it. The mate watched it the next day and it was a riot!

I keep telling the kids, "No dustables, no gifts, just come and visit with us or have us over." They have toned down a lot on the presents but some of them just HAVE to buy gifts. We deal with it as long as they come to see us when they give them. It really is true that the fun part is hearing what they have been doing and how life is going for them and seeing what new tricks the grands have learned. And I just love a card game, for like - ohhh - three days in a row all day long playing different games.

It's pretty quiet around the house this week. No emergencies, no bail outs. Other than our friends on the east coast and the neice in Florida this weekend there isn't much stress.

I'm appreciating it while it lasts!

I do SO have a life!

When I was younger I used to do a lot of crafts. Macrame, crochet, tatting, wood working, decopage, sewing, and more. I used to make all my own gifts for the holidays and birthdays and some of them were really great. I loved making my own candles, too.

It seems like I don't really have time for them anymore but I seem to be missing the fun of doing crafts and I have finally found an outlet for my creativity. So, once again, inspired by MooCow, I encourage you to click, print and cut out your entertainment for the day.

First we have the Moo talking to crickets stand up toy. and then we have (drum roll.........(you'll never guess)..........flourish of trumpets!)

The Crickets! click on the pics to go to the full size version. Cut them out and have your own "Moo and his crickets play set. Be the first cubie on the block to have your very own set!

I have been wanting to show you the photo demo of how to play with finger puppets in case any of you are too old and forgot how to have fun with them but the photos were too dark so I will have to try again sometime.

And I'll let you know how the weekend went later! For now, have fun!

Tea for two, me for you

I hate losing my assorted avatars everytime I make a change to the blog. I decided I will add them to the posts and let the profile one ride.
I really have enjoyed reading a lot of the blogs out there since I found them this spring. Now one of my friends wants to have a blog, too. That's great! As Jezzy reminded me, we have made a lot of new friends out here in Blogland. With our time to actually get out and about so limited its nice to have the network available to spend a few minutes a day with our buddies.

Some blogs I hit everyday, some just once in a while, or once a week. The Moo Cow had become one of my favorites because he puts real life and imagination into his tails, uh, I mean tales. When he takes a few days off I know my days will have less humor and pathos in them.

The finger puppets I posted yesterday were inspired by an article on a dairy site used to show kids about good nutrition. I have been saving different Moo's for a while now because they remind me of Moo and make me laugh. The collection and the puppets blended well, I think.

Tomorrow, for those of you with limited imaginations, I will show you how to have fun with your moo puppets. For the rest of you, check out the Moo Cow blog.

Today was nice and I got to ride the bike in. The mate added saddle bags for me so I can haul a purse, the laptop and a cup of coffee to work if I want to. It was a little brisk but I still got by with my denim jacket. I love it because it has so many pockets! A place for everything! The leather only has four and I have trouble finding one to put a book in.

I enjoyed the ride a lot. Then I was busy at work right off until I got a call from the mate asking me to lunch! He even came by and picked me up. I usually stay glued to the desk all day at work and it was a sweet break in routine. Big smile for the mate!

He had to go to court. He was subpoenaed for a divorce settlement case between some friends of ours. He hates that stuff, courts and lawyers and such. We both hate seeing two friends all torn up by each other, too.

It's always hard when a couple breaks up. There are all the "things" to be divided and the kids to be consoled, the pets, OMG and such that are enough to set anyone's teeth on edge. It's hard on the friends, too.

Friends don't like getting divided up like a set of dishes. While the two of them are fighting with each other you can only offer what support you can to which ever one you run into and lay low the rest of the time. You may want to remain friends with both but they may decide you were taking sides or not providing enough support to them and there ya go, you lose both friends. It's a nasty line to walk.

If you can see both sides it gets even more difficult to hang with them because they want to trash on the other guy for the main conversation, putting you even more in the middle. So I guess we just lay low for now and see where the chips fall. Too bad, they were a fun couple and we liked them a lo.

I want to give a shout out to my New Hampshire pals! Good to see you again, ladies! And I will throw in a Hey howdy to my other pal in Ohio. He reads here more than I do, and that's going some. And a big hello to the kids and cousins, I see a few of them have stopped in now and it's very quiet but that's ok, I know they are around.

The weekend is coming up, cake and ice cream with the kids for the mates bday and riding our bikes and getting the gardens tucked in for winter are on the list of fun things to do.

If Eldest Son is lurking about -"I got your present in the mail today! You can pick it up this weekend!"

Present for Blog buddy's blog buddies!

I have them! You want them!

Little Moo

Happy Moo

Bored Moo

Grown up Moo

Get them Here!

1+1 is 2, 2+2 is four

also know as the inchworm song. I'm fond of my math for living but last night I got a review on basic addition and subtraction.

It was the mate's birthday yesterday. I asked the nice sis make a cake because I couldn't sneak one under his nose and I left my card and gift for him with my Mom, who called to ask him out to breakfast so he would be all, like, "She didn't get me anything for my birthday!" and I would be all, like, "SURPRISE! Did so!"

It was all just to try to surprise him a little, make it fun. I only got him a book and a movie with a card but I loved the card! So did he! Yay, me!

So all that is going on and the Mom has had this HUNT going on in my tiny town. She went on a field trip with her (foster, step, borrowed, adopted, spare, stray) extra kid, we will call her Kitten, that she calls her granddaughter (long story there) about a month ago. One of the girls in her group was a hyper A.D.D, autistic, ramalama ding dong, jammin' a mile a minute kid who was jealous that Kitten had a nice grama and she didn't. Then the mom told her she wasn't really Kitten's grama and she could be her grama, too and made a friend for life.

Come to find out the kid moved to our town. How convienient! So Mom looked all over for her and finally found her - right across the street. She told her, we will call her Minx, told Minx that on Tuesday's she was at her daughter's house for bible study and that she would look her up to visit. Then she does! And brings her back over. (This was actually my suggestion, the place is a suspected, alleged dope house).

So there we sit, the mate upstairs, where he hides from the chatter every Tuesday, killing monsters on the computer, Sis, the ex teacher/home schooler at the table to my left, Mom the senior ranking female, to my right and me, dead center of them both with one little kid at the far right corner of the table and a page of math problems in front of her.

This is just asking for it. Sis has several ways she teaches math, none of which involve fingers. She was dyslexic, as is Minx, and knows what worked with her. Then she went on to teach in a parochial school and developed several more ways to make learning numbers easy.

I liked math, was not dyslexic and know several ways to do math I taught myself because the book ways were too long. Mom taught us both..LOL!

The poor kid! In school they had been teaching some kind of finger math, not the Chisan-Bop I was playing with a while ago, but something similar. And she was getting it enough to work the additions but the subtractions were trickier for her.

The sis started right in showing her how to look at a problem and work it out using her brain. I saw the kid was smart enough to use one of my tricks, looking for the reverse of a problem to find the answer in her addition problems, and Mom was trying to keep the paper neat and get her to write her name on it. This was in sequence, with humor and all at once sometimes, because of poor timing.

When she doesn't get it, the Minx hits her head with her hand like she can knock the answer in or out or the noise in or out. So we all STOP helping her and talk quietly to ourselves about other things and then she taps mom on the arm.

"Help, please!" Mom helps. We go back to talking, she taps Mom again and we all know that the minute she isn't the center of attention she is agitating for it but when she is the center of attention it's too much imput and she can't thing straight.

Quite a cute conundrum. She managed to finish her math and went on to read a chaper from a book to us. It was a small book and a short chapter but she got through it with phonics and a little verbal nudging from all of us.

Mom walked her home and Sis and I looked at each other. Whew! When mom gets back she says the Minx said, "See ya next Tuesday!" Hoo Boy! Three teachers and one poor, over taught student.

Next week I will let her romp with the dogs to chill her out a little before we start and see if that lets her slow down to concentrate a little better!

We had the surprise cake and ice cream, the kids called to wish the mate the happy birthday words and a good time was had by all.

I'm drawing up my lesson plan now. So is sis. So is Mom.

I'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter

Why keep a blog?

For myself, I have always kept journals. I had a diary when I was 9 and used it till I was 15. At 1978 I started again in a spiral notebook, because it was cheap, to document what was important to me about my days. In '88 they all burned up in the fire. That hurt badly. I didn't write for a long time after that.

In '92, on my 8088 I started again to write about my days. Using the now defunct B drive disks I kept a journal. I have '94 and '95 on the hard drive but in '96 when we got the house I was too busy to keep it up and let it go again.

Pretty much this blog is just my diary. What I did where I went with whom and if it was fun or not. My poems, songs, stories were all in the diary of the day. I find I put less of that here but it stll shows up from time to time.

And this is my other thought. The only thing I can contribute to the world is something that is original with me. My thoughts, feelings, ways of dealing with life that I have developed are never completely duplicated anyplace else. If they help just one person avoid a pit trap I fell into then it is worth the time, embarassment and labor of putting it out here.

If I make one person smile each day then I did something to create more good feelings than bad in the world. If I make you question yourself and think about something until you know where you stand on it then I helped out a friend and feel good about that.

But even if this blog does nothing except give me a place to vent at least I won't blow up from stuffing it all down inside till I pop all over some innocent person. That's good, too.

Mostly I write to see myself produce something that only I can do my way. I like to read me, too. Is that vain? I hate each typo but leave them usually because I know you will get the thought anyway. I hate when I think of better phrasing or another example that might have gotten my point across better. But I leave it alone because it's good enough to get by without wreaking the story.

Now I will be adding that I blog so my people can keep up with what's happening around here without being in touch any better than we usually are. But if I only see you four times a year or once every four years you will know how life has been and that I am thinking of you all. I think it will bring us closer at least in our heads. That's a warm fuzzy thought for me.

When I'm 64

I just want to say

Happy Birthday!

to the most wonderful mate ever!

You make me feel like Dancing!

I got bold on Sunday after spending most of the morning hanging auctions and I invited some of my family and pals to share my blog.

We have had the discussion about editing yourself and about writing for your readers and not for yourself and how we feel knowing people that know us in real life are reading our blogs. I had opinions on all these topics. Now we will see if I was right or just blowing smoke.

I did something else I never do and checked my statistics today. I used all the nifty tools and discovered one of my invitations was taken up by someone I wish I knew better and now I know they are going to try to know ME better by reading this blog!

I was so tickled! So I just wanted to take a minute to say HELLO! to all my really know me and getting to know me readers. I'm glad you are here! I hope watching the days go by with me helps us grow closer. It may run a few of you off, I have that affect on people sometimes and have grown used to it, but I hope not.

Music is very important to me. My family sang. Lot's of families sing better than we do but we could sing with enthusiasim! We sang for school plays, church events, in the car on long trips, when we were stuck somewhere waiting for rescue and just for fun. Dad had a country band he played with on weekends. Having five kids, ours was usually the largest house so practice was there more often than not. I had uncles on both sides that could yodel, my other uncle played gutiar and his family sang, my town grampa played the accordian, an uncle played harmonica and they all played records.

I wanted to play gutiar and sing like Daddy did. When I was 13 he let me take his guitar to learn on. He gave me a Hank Williams song book with the chords diagramed over the music and words, told me to go out to the picnic table and play there. He did show me which fingers went on which dots first.

I sat under the big tree and plucked, strummed, thumped and caterwauled all by myself for days and days. I finally thought I had "Your Cheatin' Heart" pretty good and played it for Mom. She didn't wince to badly.

I kept after it. My seven year old cousin who's dad played was learning at the same time. Now you want to talk about torment? When the weather got cold we would sit out on the back porch and whang away together. He was great at the gutiar but needed two buckets to hit the notes with his voice. I couldn't do anything fancy on the instrument but I could carry a tune. It was a racket fit to give God a headache but we really enjoyed it. We showed each other what we had learned since the last time we visited and played on.

I went on to have the music comfort me, teach me, let me express myself and make me a living down the road some years. I still have two gutiars but don't play much anymore. I prefer to find a willing piano player and sing.

Then I became an official grama in '03. The little darling is just a sweetie but she lives way far away from me. That's another story for the other blog and I will get there someday. For now all you need to know is I love her and her family but we don't have much contact. As she is so little I don't worry much about presents and such yet, she won't remember who got her what for when till she is about five. She has lots of loving family to spoil her, too. So my gifts would be excess anyway.

But I was cruising around the auctions one day looking for something and I found this little gem. It just screamed at me that I had to have it for the newest in a long line of fine women.

It's just the size of somebody learning to walk. It works, too. I was so happy with it I just bought it and shipped it. I forgot to tell them it was coming!

I love thinking my grand girl will grow up with music. I think if I wished my Mom had made me do anything else I didn't like it would be that I wish she would have MADE ME take piano lessons seriously. I had a few organ lessons from a neighbor lady but hit the same wall all the kids hit - I wanted to play a song, not scales and exercises! After about four lessons I quit.

I still went on and taught myself gutiar but I play by ear, I can only read notes if I sit there and work at it. I would love to be able to play piano! It's a musical skill that translates well into almost any other instrument.

It probably worked out for the best, I couldn't carry a piano with me everywhere I ended up going. The gutiar was enough of a problem sometimes.

So, for the little grand girls, there are two now, I think I will try to send implements of music and maybe try to get them lessons!

All that because knowing my friends are here with me made me feel like dancing!

Some days are diamonds

Life, like the weather, changes uncontrollably. See?














Then you get the diamond days. Same house different day and I found the end of the rainbow!

















The trick is learning to survive and thrive on both kinds of days. Strife can strengthen you. Joy can raise you up. Or you can be destroyed by either.

If you feel you are unworthy of joy you can try to destroy it for yourself and you will succeed sometimes. Then you will be as miserable as you feel you deserve to be and make those around you miserable.

To learn to accept the joy you must accept yourself. You may not be a diamond yet, but even an old lump of coal can keep people warm in the winter, can have goodness in it. You are what you are today. Tomorrow you will be what you are then. Yesterday you were a different person. You are always growing and changing. Give yourself the benefit of the doubt, believe you will keep becoming a person who receives joy in their life.

Allow the joy in today to cheer you, because joy isn't gifted where it is deserved. It appears for the smallest of reasons and by the grace of the good in the world. It's as rare as moon rocks and fickle as a cat. It appears for little or no reason and bursts like a bubble of soapy water. Enjoy it while you have it every time. Who and what you are has nothing to do with being happy. Try to just be happy because you CAN be.

If you feel you did not deserve the storm you can spend all your life fighting it moaning and wailing about the trouble it caused for you. I think you can build the storm over and over inside yourself. Clean up the mess it made, put back what you can, do without or replace the rest and put it behind you as soon as you can. Don't let the bad weather of one week wreck your enjoyment of the sunshine later. Get your head out of the dark and put your hair in the wind. Remember everything changes and bad times don't last forever.

Use what you learn from the storm to help others deal with them and you have created sharing and goodness out of danger and pain.

It's lovely out today. My mate loves me, the animals are happy, there is food, heat, transportation and the roof don't leak. No word of troubles from the family yet.

I'm going outside to play!

gonna lay around the shanty, mama

Friday! Sometimes the week just flies, this one has been too busy! Kids, dogs, the mate, birthdays and all just seem to pile up. I've got auctions to build this weekend and more. The mate and I are planning on hanging around the homestead and doing yard work. I have the gardens to put away and we have mowing and rototilling. Might even get to the gutters!

We have a daughter that is a sucker for sad animal stories. On the way home last night I realized that the refugee looked just like her current dog. So I called her to see what the current head count on dogs was and it's only two. They usually have 4 or 5. I put a bug in her ear about the girly dog and hope she will at least go check her out! Wicked me!

Got home to a sweetly understanding mate who had a hot homemade pizza just coming out of the oven. I was extra nice to our dogs and hope the little girl is doing ok.

I just wanted to mention it seems like the week was just a little weird. After yesterday's adventure on my way to work this morning I was really paying attention but still got surprised. I saw a deer streaking directly toward the car in front of me. I had plenty of room but was braking and prepared to drop gears to avoid the slaughter. I was already holding my breath, waiting for the impact, when the small doe LEAPED the trunk of the vehicle and ran off to safety. It was no cadillac but still a fair jump on a dead run! Awesome!

I check with our new friend/customer to see how her pup was and she says they got it there in time, it's going to be fine. Now, if the kids will just work things out, it will be all happy endings!

Barring unplanned excitement I will see you all Monday! Enjoy the weekend!

Well, old Shep he is gone where the good doggies go

I was on my way to work this morning and never even got out of town before one of those things happened that mean I am going to be screwing up the rest of my day no matter how good my intentions.

Our roads, as I may have pointed out before, are hilly. When you head south out of town it goes level a little way, down a small dip then over a little rise and into a big dip all in the course of 4 blocks or so. And leaving town is when people start picking up speed to rush off to whatever is so important they have to do that day. So when you hit the first big dip you are normally rolling right along.

My radio was on CD and I was switching it to FM - I watch the road and do the radio by feel, lucky me! So not only was I watching the road, I was going more slowly than my normal habit. As I started down in the dip I saw a coon hound limping around in the road.

My head is faster than my brain at math. "Dog, Dip, Dumb Drivers = Dead Dog" and I was stopping before I knew I was going to stop. I edged over to the side but there is ditch deeper than my axels so I was still two thirds in the road when I shut the engine down.

I shoved the truck in first, flipped the key off, slapped the flashers on and got out of the truck. The poor thing was terrified, ears down, tail clamped between her legs and her back foot was a visible mess but she appeared to be limping on a front paw, too.

I walked around to the back of the truck and started trying to get her to come to me.

Don't scream, I can hear you!"NO! An injured dog will hurt you!" I know, my own little Ozzie hound bit me when he got hit by a van and I ran to help him. I was 13 when that happened. I am really afraid of injured animals but I can't stand to see them suffer. And where she was she was going to be killed so even if all I did was chase her off over the fields or down the road a piece she would be better off.

I called "poor baby, pretty puppy, and sweetie" in that squeeky voice all the little pups like. She came to the verge, circled around the truck and me and at least got off the road. I got down on my haunches and held the back of my hand out to her. A big truck came flying over the hill, saw the car and swerved around us but she freaked out, raced down the ditch and cowered in the tall grass near the field. Poor little thing and darn it all - CRAP!!

I grabbed the door of the little truck and got to my feet, tipped over my purse and fished out the cell phone. We don't have any coverage in town, it's a dead spot - truth - but the phone rang at the house 6 blocks away. Static screeched in my ear but I heard the mate say "Hello?" There was no time for courtesy, "Bring me a leash and a collar, please?" and we were cut off.

I tossed the phone in the purse the purse behind the seat and used the door to get back down to her level. She was crouched shaking and cowering in the bottom of the ditch. I just kept talking sweetly to her with my hand out. She finally came up and gave my hand a sniff from about a foot away from the tips of my fingers. I waited, she stepped closer. I had just gotten a tiny stroke of a pet across her head when another car topped the hill and pulled up behind us. I reached my arm around her neck and the other over her back when she started to run.

It was a lady with some kids in the car. She just wanted to help and started to get out and walk over to us. That scared the dog again but I was less scary than the new human and she stood for me.

"Is this your dog?" I called. When she answered no I said,"Please stay back, you're scaring her!" She didn't hear me. I didn't want to shout and scare the poor thing worse but I gave her a little hug with my arms and raised my voice to repeat myself. The woman stopped and saw the dog was terrified of her.

"Ohh, pooor thang," she said. She got right in her car and left. Thank you lady, where ever you are!

Now I was safety for her and she let me pet her and leaned her wounded head on my thigh. She looked at me with those sad brown eyes and I could have killed whoever let her get loose, lost her hunting or dropped her off. You think you have had heart break! Humans had let this pup down badly and she was still willing to let me try to help her when she was so scared her tail was still clamped tightly to her legs. She tried to be brave and believe in humans again. I watched her calm down just a tiny bit and try not to be afraid of me.

I just talked to her and petted her for a minute. I knew the cavalry was on the way so I didn't want to get her frightened by trying to lift her into the truck. My knees were screaming and my lower back was cracked in half but I couldn't risk getting up yet.

Then the little red truck came over the hill. The mate knows dogs. He parked back from us, kept the leashes and collar crumpled up in his one hand while reaching out with the other one and talking sweet to her. She seemed to responded to his voice well but still pushed herself into me in fear.

He got down with us and fished me out the leash I wanted. I put my hands on her ears and he slipped it over her head. I could tell she had once had a leash and collar of her own because she didn't fight it at all.

I tried to encourage her to get in the truck but her back foot wouldn't let her. I put my arms around her where she would see them and then the mate took her gently under the rear and we lifted her up to the passenger seat. I praised her and petted her while I got a good look at her and then shut the door carefully so I didn't scare her. She leaned against the seat back and closed her eyes.

She might have looked just like this if her head hadn't gotten snagged on barbed wire and her foot hadn't been swollen up, half naked and the last nail/toe pulled out at an angle and if she wasn't starved down to a sunken tummy and prominent ribs and if she wasn't so sad.

The wonderful mate said all he heard on the phone was "collar and leash". It's so nice to know that he can do the math..."wife going to work, says collar/leash=get same and drive work route till I find her" He knows we don't get good cell too close to home so I wasn't far away and he didn't wait till I called back because he would know it involved a dog and I was busy and wouldn't answer if we got lucky twice and my phone rang anyway. Bless my fine friend.

He made sure I was ok with her and then I asked him to call our ex neighbor, the current animal control officer, and have him meet me at work. We kissed and I got into the car slowly but the poor girl hadn't moved and just watched me with the seat propping her up and her sore feet laying at odd angles on the seat.

I gave her a few pets and got going down the road. The truck starting didn't bother her and she stayed upright through the curves and corners so I figure she had experience in a truck. I couldn't get her to lay down and she never said a word, not a whimper. I got the vents on her and a window open to give her some breeze and settled down to getting us to town.

It's ten miles to the gas station and I got there in nine minutes. I pulled right in, told her to stay and scooted inside. I was calling over my shoulder for a bowl or dog food as I looked myself. They had nothing. I got a styrofoam cup and a piece of cheap jerky and took them out with me.

I offered her the water, no interest. I sat it down between my feet and started to open the jerky stick. Even a well fed dog can catch you with a tooth over a favorite snack and this girl was starving but she just sniffed a mile a minute while I tugged and pulled and bit and peeled at the ()&()*#$& wrapper. She offered me no harm. I broke up little pieces and put them by her feet but she was so focused on the stick in my hand that I just gave her the last third and she wolfed it down. Then I pointed out the other bits and she sucked them right up and started after the wrapper in my hand.

I ran back inside and got two more. The nice lady at the counter cut them open for me and I broke them up into little bites before I got back to the car. She was looking right at me when I came back out. I walked around to my side, made her slide over and put part of the chunks on the seat.

I drive a stick shift but somehow I got it going with one hand full of jerky still. She slowed down a little on the pile she had, but not much. I dumped the second helping for her and she went right for it.

I located the cell phone and ran through the memory buttons till I him Mom's number. "Have you got any dog food left from Josie?" I replied to her hello.

"A little."

"Can you bring me some down to the shop right away, please? Even dry cat food will work."

"OK"

"OK! Thanks, gotta go!"

You will note the mom is not the slightest bit phased by this. She was there in under 15 minutes from a pajama starting position with a bag of biscuts, two chewies and a bowl of dry cat food with an extra pan for water if needed. We may not be the VanderBilts but we make FEMA look BAD!

I walked in and the boss was coming out to see her. The uncoached mate had also called to explain why I would be late. Bless my sweet lover! It also meant it was no surprise to the boss that I went right back out with a jug of water and held it for her. When Mom pulled up a few minutes later I went shooting right back out the door and he knew that was coming, too.

We fed her and she ate every crumb of food. I gave her a biscut but she wasn't really very interested. She did like the chewie raw hide thing though and snapped it up like the desert we wanted it to be.

I went back to work, Mom went home with her pans and I waited for the ACO to arrive. I knew he had one more stop to make because the thrice blessed mate called and told me so. A long enough time went by that I decided she had better be walked.

She got down out of the truck gingerly but on her own and limped over to the grass. We walked around but nothing was happening. I decided she was so neglected, starved and dehydrated that nothing was going to happen for awhile and that I had better get back to work. I just got to the door of the truck when the county truck pulled up.

The ACO, ex neighbor and good accquaitaince, came over slowly and got down to meet my poor pretty girl. He talked to her and listened to me tell him about her wounds, what I had done for her and what she still needed done. They can't take her to the vet for 5 days but he would see to her injuries and I know he's good and so is most of the help up there.

When she seemed ok to him he picked her up most carefully to not hurt her feet. As she was cradled in his arms I unsnapped the leash but left the little blue collar on her to aid in them handling her. He put her in the back cage container and I ran back to get her chewy. She was getting tense again and had her nose to the crack.

I pushed the rawhide toy through to her and she took it but then let it drop. "Be good for ACO, pretty girl. He's going to help you feel better. I'm sorry but I have dogs and cats at home and can't keep you. Be a good girl!'

I went back inside with tears streaming down my face. I knew she was better off than Old Shep but I felt like I had, as a human, betrayed her again. But I did what I could and they don't put our dogs down, there are several rescue centers that take them after five days. She would heal and she would live and with a little luck someone that could appreaciate a beautiful coon hound would get her and give her a home.

I no sooner sat down than the phone rang and I answered it with my standard greeting for the business. It was a lady ordering more parts than she had planned on yesterday when we had talked. I could hardly answer her and she asked if I was ok. So I told this total stranger about my little refugee and she told me she had taken her dog in the night before with either the flu or parvo and they put her on and IV right away but she didn't know if she would make it and we both sat at our desks and cried.

She just got through being without power for a week, the storms were terrible and the trees are down all over. They are in Mississippi, no power meant losing all her refridgerator foods,she went to ask for help at the local family services office and gave up after the 5th page of the 24 page thing you have to fill out, the little help they offered wasn't worth the hassle. No money next week because there was no power at the office either, they didn't work. Her boy is upset because the puppy is sick but he is twenty and shouldn't be crying like a baby and neither should she and neither should I over a stray I only knew an hour or two. But there you go, humans are weird.

So during my little emotional overload I made a new friend by getting to know her better because I was too overwrought to have my work voice on and she was in need of a listener, too. I'm going to call her tomorrow and see how her pup is doing and do the questionaire on her. So more later, gang!

Everybody is a star

In a reply to a post at Fred's on blogoholism I found the comment with the phrase "But it's because it's so tough to find interesting people in the neighborhood or at work! " as a reason we read blogs where, presumably, interesting people write.

This intrigued me. Where do you think bloggers are from? All of us live and most of us work somewhere. (some of us blog from work! scamps!) That makes us the "interesting people in the neighborhood or at work" that you can't find! Why don't most people realize that? I feel it's because we don't take the time to meet our neighbors or co-workers on a more personal basis.

Not being able to blog can be for several reasons. They may not have access to the internet or they may not be able to write down their thoughts clearly. Most of your neighbors and co-workers are, more than likely, very interesting to know as humans. We just don't have the time.

I actually missed having a friend I could have talked to by meeting her the day before she moved. We had lived a block apart and our girls had played together for almost a year. We talked for 2 hours one night, realized we had a LOT in common and then I had to go get ready for work while she had more packing to do. I never saw her again. Dumb me!

If you saw me at the local coffee shop you would never look at me twice, unless the helmet is hanging on back of the chair, because I have turned into a soft, round, older, red neck woman with no really outstanding features. I'm down right plain. But my brain is installed and running all the time on a wide variety of topics and interests. My history is full of amazing tales of human stupidity mixed with blind luck and adventures too graphic for most of you. And I have a great sense of humor!

What some of you don't seem to have been able to extrapolate from reading blogs is that everyone has a story. Almost everyone you meet has something in common with you and a story to tell. To discover these " interesting people in the neighborhood or at work" you have to find the time to get to know them. You have to overcome your tendency to judge on appearances, age, and wealth or lack of same.

Wanna try something fun? Put a small note pad and a pencil in your pocket. Watch for the next few days and find someone waiting - for a bus, their food to arrive, with you at the dentist's office, for a meeting. Just one person alone who looks like they might have a minute to talk - that's the only criteria. They can be young, old, male, female, green, drunk, sober, affluent appearing or not.

Take out your pad and pencil. Walk up to them and say, "I am working on an assignment where I have to write about a person I have never met before. If you have the time, could you help me with this? I only need a little family information and some quick stories (one story from childhood, one from the teen years and one from your 20's to 40's) and then a few questions." Of course, you vary what you need to fit their age.

If they agree to help, ask how many were in their family, where they grew up, what they liked about school, what their first job was, an adventure from when they were young, a teen age escapade, (one story from childhood, one from the teen years and one from your 20's to 40's) if they would rather dance or go to a movie, if they were/are married, where they met their mate, if not what they do now (where they work?), what their favorite style of music is, their favorite food and favorite color. Then ask if there is one day in their life they will never forget.

That's a pretty short list but I bet the answers surprise you. I'll bet you end up talking for the whole time you have available for this. And I bet you find out they were pretty interesting. Depending on how brave you are about picking your person you could even learn we are all alike under the skin. You might just try this with one of your neighbors.

If any of you are bold enough to try this, blog it and leave a link in the comments. Tell us where you found your person, why you picked them, what your first impression was and how you felt after talking to them.

And, YES MOO, you can use this to meet girls but you have to blog every one of them! Yes, Amber, guys, too. Yes, Fred, kids count. They only have to be old enough to speak in sentences. No, Anvil, the cat does NOT count, we would know you made up the answers. Yes, Moo? Of course you can sock puppet theater your encounter! I didn't know you could talk without moving your hands! And NO, you can not interview another blogger. Yes, the mailman is ok, I hope...I don't know. Interview him and find out. Maybe I'm wrong!

I don't want to get over you

Round two last night. Till midnight we sat on the patio looking at the stars, listening to the really crappy hard rock garage band 3 blocks over and trying to communicate. The first partner had helped fill in the second partner so we could skip some of the pain and get to their view of the eruption. I did my best to put myself in their place. It was full of pain. Ick!

They are both unsure of themselves and lacking in trust with each other, that's hard to rebuild but it was there when they launched this enterprise and I think they can have it again. Thing is that I keep thinking up things that might have helped clear up the murk but couldn't think of at the time. I hate that!

You both recognize where things went wrong, to the second, to the incident and you both still love each other. People rarely can forgive but they can forget. Where were you last year on this day? (no checking on the blog to see!) What were the names of the hurricanes that mashed Florida last year?

Go back to loving each other, be trustworthy and loyal and you will both forget the bad times some day if you put enough good times between you and them.

You have to give up things that please your self sometimes to have the joy of a contented relationship. It's called a sacrifice or compromise.

The mate gave up almost all male only entertainments because I enjoy so many of them and object to being excluded by sex. (fishing, hunting, bowling) I gave up almost all playing gutiar and singing in public because he hates bar crowds and worries I will run off with a muscian. Neither of us regrets this.

He still hits one once in a while and I still go to the odd jam session or kareoke event. We revel in our love and caring and knowing the partner cared enough for us to give up something that can hurt us. The reason we still do these things sometimes is we love each other enough to want the partner to have fun without us - just not every night or even every week.

Do the math! A is fun. B is not fun. C is happy and loved for the rest of your life. It's easy - A- B= C. When you define what a "B" is for you, tell your mate. Then you can work it out together. Don't just stew over it! Don't wait, it just festers. Work it out now!

If X=pain and Y=happy and U + 2=X, U+3=X, U+4=X U+5=X but U+1=Y what have we learned? That you are not happy without the one and no one else equals happiness for U!

And when U and the 1 have created Y treasure it! Notice it! Say thank you for the loving action, bringing me a drink when you go to the kitchen, hugging me when you walk past, taking out the trash so I don't have to get up early and do it, helping with the baby so I can sleep in, keeping the house neat so I can always be comfortable when someone drops in, all the tiny things in a day that mean you love each other.

When you give positive feed back they want to please you again and you want to please them again to get the head pats! You are nicer and nicer to each other and pretty soon your friends start staying away because you are so mushy it makes them feel like they just waded through maple syrup.

Everyone makes mistakes. Not everyone has the guts to try and repair them. It's not easy, it won't be quick or painless, but if you stick to it you can succeed. Loving enough to try IS a good start.

1+1=3 - It's not just sex math, it's relationship math. You are yourself, the partner is themself but the two of you create a new unit called "us". The team, the family.

Sometimes you have to "take one for the family". Your mate has to spend time fixing the car when they are supposed to be with you or you have to work late to make enough extra money to meet the bills. It means the other partner has to deal with being alone, doing extra chores and can leave you both feeling pouty or neglected but is for the good of the family.

So pout childishly and quietly to yourself and try to be glad you have the kind of mate that cares enough to save you money by fixing the car or being at work when they would rather be home with you. Take the guy working on the car a cold beverage and pull up a lawn car to chat while they work. Make a special meal for the worker to show them you appreciate them and ask for a back rub later. We all know where a good back rub leads!

Above all do not worry about what other people think of you, all that is important is that you are happy together. "Mrs. Grundy" has always loved a good soap, even if it's not the truth.

And if you need help, just ask for it. Some one in this loving family will try to see you get what you need. There is no shame in needing a hand.

Be yourselves, be honest with yourself and each other, love each other and all the rest will come in time. I am proof of that. We are proof of that.

NowI have done all I think I can for them I am at the hard part - waiting to see if they pull out out hit the side of the mountain.....grrrr!

They're coming to take me away, HA HA

I just had one of those encounters that leaves you feeling all hollow and wrung out. The emotions called up leave you exausted. You don't want to revist them because of the pain. Still, you feel you have to make them real to another person who is not dealing well with them in a similar situation. You are moved to help them avoid the same kind of hurt. The struggle to make mere words convey feelings and experiences has left you limp and speechless and sure you failed to communicate.

It's just too much drama and it's so hard to see the ones you love banging their heads on walls that have existed since there were two sexes on the planet that you have to try.

I have two friends who feel their marriage is done. Two friends who were happy and in love way past the 90 day threshold for hormone love. Because I believe it is "twu wuv" I had to try and help them see if they can pull it back together.

All together now, "It's none of YOUR business!"

OK, and it's none of my business if your kid is playing on the train track with a train coming, either. But I am going to yank him off, if I can, and send him running home because a mean, ol' lady hollered at him. As an adult, annoying as I may find that state of being, I AM responsible for seeing those younger and more ignorant than me are taught and protected.

If some one would have told me that sex is better when you are older, that love is deeper when you have to sacrifice something to make it work because nothing is free, that it takes two to love - every time, that you don't really have to have everything you want right this minute but you can work toward it in smaller bits, that every thing physical just burns up or is destroyed by hurricans and all you really need is love - from a lover, the family, your parents, your siblings, friends and nothing else really matters, among other things, maybe I would have waited till I was 18 and the mate was 20 and we could have been married 32 years by now.

When you are young everything is so "right NOW" and time seems to move so slowly that you can't stand to wait for it. People are so self centered they can't see past their own needs and feelings to see what they are inflicting on others. If they do notice they don't realize that cutting yourself off from even one person who cares about you leaves you poorer.

Because I care, I stuck my nose in. Now I wait to see if I get it cut off!