Damama's at it again!

ExerWHAT???

2010-03-04T21:17:00.003-06:00

For those of you who don't know, I've joined a great online weightloss community. It's called FAST TRACK TO FAT LOSS. And since you can't see my blog over there without being a member... and if you need to lose weight the healthy way you SHOULD be a member. I've lost 9 lbs in 2-1/2 weeks! And I'm never hungry!... I thought I'd repost todays here... It was just too funny not to share. (OK, so the lack of sugar in my system may be making me a leeeeeetle bit punchy, but whatever... you be the judge! LOL!)

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There seems to be an epidemic of epic proportions running rampant around here. Everywhere I go here in FastTrack (FT) somebody is talking about this exer-whatever thing. I seem to remember hearing something about that years ago, but it has been a LOOOONG time. I do remember that it was something we did in P.E. in grade school. Come on -- you remember those days!

"PEOPLE! QUITE DOWN AND LINE UP! You, there next to the fat kid, tie those shoes before you trip and break something. OK. Ready, JUMPING JACKS - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, come on fat kid, keep up! 8, 9, 10."

By now all the overweight, out-of-shape kids were huffing and puffing, the jock sporty types were snickering and the rest of us were wondering how to switch places with the kid next to our best friend without the coach noticing. And actually that wasn't something we really had to worry about because the coach never noticed much other than the irritating (coaches thoughts, not mine!) fat kids huffing and puffing and which jock sporty types would do best on whatever team was currently being formed.

After another three to five sets of some boring Jack Lalanne-isms we'd be released to do our own thing. Ummm... fun?? Not usually. The boys would wander off to one side of the gym and pick teams for dodge ball - fatties on one side, jocks on the other. It was a massacre! Never underestimate the strength of a fat kid with a chance to ping a ball off of some snotty jock's groin! Nuff said about that...

The girls, having exhausted themselves, would retire to the bleachers and gossip. Usually about the other girls. Loudly. Rudely. Always in cliques. Always better than the others. And then there was my group. We really didn't care what the other girls thought. We dressed how we wanted. We ate what we wanted. And there was only one exercise we were truly interested in doing well... the one that OBVIOUSLY worked WAY too well for me:

Stand straight, palms together, chest high, elbows up, and PRESS and PRESS and PRESS all the while repeating:

"WE MUST, WE MUST, WE MUST DEVELOP OUR BUST. WE MUST, WE MUST ..."

Yeah - Take a look at my BEFORE photos and you'll see why I think maybe I was a little TOO into this activity. Aaaaanyyyywaaaaayyyy....

So now here I am, 40 or so years later and every time I hear the term Exer... that's as far as my mind can get. It just shuts down... Ain't doin' it. Nope. Nuh-uh!! Yes, I went to the gym faithfully 3-5 times a week for nearly all of the past two years. I walked treadmill hills until my feet blistered, but I was talking to my friend all the while so that wasn't the E word. I pulled handles attached to varying sizes of metal rectangles until my hands blistered, but that wasn't the E word either -- at least not the way I did it! HA! We played racquetball a bunch, but ... ummm hellooooo.. PLAYED - not exer-whatevered.

One might think that with all that activity going on I wouldn't have ever needed to join FT. Again with the, "go look at my BEFORE pics" and tell me how well all that activity worked out for me. IT DIDN'T! While I will admit that I felt better and was a lot stronger, I lost no weight. I lost no inches. All I DID lose was the will to even THINK about going back to the gym.

You see, for me, the act of being that active does something HORRIBLE to my appetite. The stimulation is so much that I am RAVENOUS and all the food that I consume counters out all the work I do. So, for now I ain't gonna do anything more strenuous than:

Parking at the back of the lot instead of in the 3F spots (Four Front Fatty spaces - seriously, have you ever really watched? The people who circle and circle waiting for one of the first four spaces nearest the door on any aisle are usually ummm... rotund?? OK, so let's just say it... we're FAT! )
Dancing around to music while I clean the kitchen or do laundry
Doing kegel crunches at stop lights and during commercials, or ... and this IS my favorite...
Cracking Hubby up by immitating the skinny-armed biotches who model the propper method to .... ummm... thrill your guy??... on those Shake Weight commercials. (There are men far and wide screaming at the TV, "Hey, baby, come on over. I've got a REAL weight you can shake!!") AACK!

And no, don't anybody... ANBODY... DARE say "Well, all that stuff is exer..." I WILL come find you so I can EAT YOUR LUNCH AND MINE! And speaking of lunch...

Y'all have a GREAT Thursday, now. OK!!!
TTFN!

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OK - so that's my current ranting for the day over at FT. I sincerely hope that you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. Ah, the memories!! I also hope you consider looking into this program. It is changing lives. Mine included.

Peace, Blessing, and E.. don't say it!!!!!... to all.

This friend is NOT welcome!

2010-02-24T16:17:00.005-06:00

She's baaaaack... I really thought I'd found a way to get rid of her for good this time. It was hard getting her to leave in the first place, we've been such good friends for so many years. Back in the day we were virtually inseparable. Together we managed to get into more trouble!!

We'd sneak off together to the antique shops spending hours just milling around looking for that one thing that would not let us walk out of the store without it. We'd go to the movies and split a huge bag of popcorn and a coke. Some days we'd just pile up on the couch watchng old movies, eating ice cream and potatoe chips. It was she who, during one particularly slow, boring movie, introduced me to the wonder of pickle and potatoe chip "sandwiches". Chip-pickle-chip-MUNCH! MMMMM taaaastyyyy - especially when washed down with a big old, ice cold glass of coke. Fun times.

But then something in our relationship changed. I started realizing that with us having so much fun there were very few adult-type responsibility things getting done. The laundry piled up. So did the dust. And the dishes. Hubby and I'd go out to eat most every night because she and I'd been goofing all day and I just wasn't up to cooking. I did notice that I'd gained a few pounds. But, HEY, my makeup and hair looked great so it couldn't be all THAT much, right?

It wasn't until Christmas about a year ago that I really started seeing the havoc the friendship was reeking in my life. Yes, I knew I'd gained a BUNCH of weight, but I truly didn't see myself as that out of control. At least not until I dressed up in a pretty new blouse and stood in the front yard for pictures with my nephew's family... O. M. G.! Where did all of that ME come from? After sulking around for a while I sat my buddy down and had a discussion about how life was going to have to be from then on:

No more goofing off ALL day long. I had to get at least ONE positive thing accomplished every day. She didn't like it one bit at all, but I managed to separate myself from her long enough most days to make it. Some days all I could manage was dragging my over-large self to the gym for an hour of exercise. Then she and I'd sit around and whine about how harrrrd it was and get nothing else accomplished all day long.

Finally, I decided enough was enough. She had to go. There are some friendships that are just not healthy to maintain. So my long-time buddy was banished from my life. I won't say that I haven't thought about her a lot over the last several months, but I have been more productive and that has kept me from inviting her back. However, this morning when I woke up she was at the door. I tried to have coffee and then shew her on her way, but she just would NOT leave! I finally got up a few minutes ago and started working in my office, AKA the file cabinet barf center of the universe, that she got frustrated and stalked off. And all I can think is WAAA!! Cry baby! LOL! Today has proven to me that she's a drag! Seriously! So now I think I'm finally ready to say a fond but long overdue BUH-BYE!! to my old friend.

IDA WANNA

It was fun while it lasted, but it lasted too long!

OH, I almost forgot to tell you that I've found a new friend who I think's really going to be a blast. Her name?

IMA GONNA

OK, I'm outta here. Me and my new friend are gonna find the top of this desk if it kills us! If you haven't heard from me by this time tomorrow SEND IN A SEARCH PARTY!

Have a great day, y'all!

Damama's Use It or Lose It Advice on: Things Inquiring Minds Want To Know - Part II: Helping Enablers

2010-01-30T16:16:00.011-06:00

In a follow-up to her previous question, Brandi said...

Alright, now I have another question. This one comes from Jon as well as me. What do you do if that person who doesn't manage her money well is your mother-in-law and other people (outside the family) are bailing her out? She of course still comes to each of her children (5) and their spouses for help. We help do her laundry, but we no longer give her any money.

ANSWER: You have no control whatsoever over the choices other people make. The best you can do is to try to talk to them and enlist their help in helping your MIL. I'd set up a meeting with those you know are enabling her poor life choices to make sure you are all on the same page. I'm betting that the story they are getting from her involves something along the lines of "my kids have abandoned me after all I did to raise them and clothe them and put a roof over their heads..." waaaa waaa waaaaaaaa.

Be aware that you will most likely run into at least a few who have codependency issues. For them, helping your MIL is a form of self-medication that will not be easily relinquished. Depending on how well you know them and what your relationship is, you might suggest that they look into their own reasons for not wanting your MIL to get better. A great resource for them might be a book called Codependent No More which I've read and have given to several others. It is amazing what can happen in one's life when one starts recognizing the self-destructiveness of being an enabler. It brings a whole new meaning to the phrase 'give until it hurts'.

Now I have just one question for you: Why are you still doing her laundry? Does she not know how? Is she allergic to detergent? Fabric softener? Ironing boards? Ask yourself this: If she was my 20-something daughter would I still be doing her laundry for her? If the answer shocks you, you know what your next step needs to be: either you read the book and stop doing your MIL's laundry or you just stop doing your MIL's laundry. Natural consequences will eventually kick in and she WILL figure out how to get clean. Or not. Either way it has to be HER decision to either grow up or wither up. I'm betting that she'll choose growing up. (If it's a question of access to a place to do the laundry it would be alright for you to offer to let her come use your machines at your convenience. Just don't do it for her.)

Please note that ALL of this assumes that your MIL does not have serious physical handicap, mental health or intelligence issues that need to be addressed by an appropriate healthcare professional. If so, getting her help now will make your future life easier because her behavior will only continue to worsen without treatment.

All that being said, there is one thing that I know will not change in her life. You love that woman. You may not always like her behavior, but you love her or you wouldn't care. You'd just walk away and let somebody else figure it all out. Some day, when she's healthier, she will be grateful that you loved her enough to do what was best for her when she couldn't do it for herself.

Kudos, my friend. And best of luck on this very difficult journey.

Peace, Blessings, and Peace knowing that love alone is not always enough.

Wordless Wednesday - Stress Reduction Kit

2010-01-19T23:15:00.004-06:00

*I have no idea where this came from so if you do, please let me know so I can give proper credit.

National Guard Youth Challenge - Round 2

2010-01-18T22:35:00.004-06:00

Sorry I haven't been around as much as I'd planned when this year started. I've spent the last couple of weeks scrambling to get MG ready to go back into the NGYC Program. We took her to West Texas on Saturday.

Strange how I was so anxious for her to be gone and now that she's not here I spent a good deal of my day thinking about her and wondering if she's OK.

That's what we moms do, isn't it. This moving them toward the edge of the nest is challenging.

Right now I'm tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. But at the same time I'm amazing exhilarated with the thought of the steps I can take to improve myself while she is off improving herself. The next 6 months should be interesting. I'm glad I have y'all along for the ride.

Hugs and TTFN for now.

Damama's Use it or Lose it Advice on: Things Inquiring Minds Want to Know

2010-01-10T10:22:00.007-06:00

In my last post I asked you guys to come up with some questions for me. As usual, you never let me down! So, without further ado:

Brandi asks...

How do you get a fifty-something person who has managed money poorly her whole life and always depended on others to bail her out to manage her money better?

ANSWER: Quit bailing her out. Period. She will whine, moan, complain, and possibly threaten ugliness. She will say she's starving. Or freezing. Or.... Have responses and alternate resources such as addresses of shelters, food pantries, and charity assistance programs ready. And stand firm.

Next, offer to help her set up a budget. If she refuses then let her go on her own but do not, under any circumstance, buy into her poor, poor, pitiful me routine. Give love, not money. Give encouragement, not money. Give her Dave Ramsey's phone number, BUT DO NOT GIVE HER MONEY.

She is a grown-up woman. It's time she suffered the grown-up consequences for her childish behavior.

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J.B. said...

Damama my question is what is the question? Life is good, I am blessed and sleepy. Sweet dreams all.

ANSWER: The question is do you thank God or some higher power every day for your good life and blessings? I bet you do, but if I'm wrong please go do so now. ;o)

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Daria said...

I [see] that you use Blogger, but where did you get your template? I love it!

ANSWER: Thank you! If you'll look in the upper left-hand corner of my blog you'll see a little bug there that says The Cutest Blog On The Block. Warning, though. Don't go there unless you have time to shop around a while. They have SO MANY cute blogs and so much neat stuff that you will get lost in there for a while. LOL! Good luck and come back and tell me what you find so I can come see your new look!

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Erin said...

I want to know what your favorite thing about being a mom is!

ANSWER: Wow! Hit me with a though one, why don'tcha! Seriously, that question has so many different answers. If you don't mind, this one deserves a blog post all on its own. Come back in a couple of days or watch Twitter for a notice that it's up.

... and thanks for making me really examine this thought.

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Tanya said...

I need to know why the 8 yr old girl is so rude, argumentative, lies through her teeth & back answers a million times each day? Is it too drive her mother totally crazy?

ANSWER: This is a two-parter...

Short form - YES, it is to drive you crazy so that when she grows up and leaves home you won't miss her so much. Just kidding. Sort of.

Long form - Those of us who grew up under horrific circumstances tend to get just a weeeeee bit control-freakish. Then, when we are blessed (and I do use that term cautiously) with strong-willed, independent, self-confident children who happen to be a great deal like us, we tend to go a little nuts. Not that the child is perfect by any means, but... Dang this thing of having to be the grownup ALL the time! ;O)

Try something for me -- an experiment in self control, if you will. For the next week back off a little. Give her viable choices (meaning include things that she might actually choose herself) and then honor her decision. (For example, you might not wear those colors together, but you aren't putting the stuff on your back!) Make sure she knows what the rules and expectations are. And what the consequences are. Give choices when appropriate. Give time guidelines, not time requirements for compliance. Try to take the emotion out of your dealings with her UNLESS they are POSITIVE emotions. Mete out punishment in a matter-of-fact manner. Redirect her when necessary the same way -- just as you might with a non-compliant patient. Allow natural consequences to take their course without you having to always be the bringer. (If she goes out dressed like that her friends will probably make fun of her causing her to rethink future wardrobe choices. Why scream at her to get change clothes? It only makes her want to do it less. Her friends' opinions, though... GOLDEN! Win-win for Mom!)

Most of all.. MOST MOST MOST OF ALL... Praise her. Praise her for getting up after you only having to call her twice instead of the usual X number of times. Praise her for closing the door behind her. Praise her for remembering to flush the toilet (something like "My friend complains that her daughter never flushes the toilet. I'm so glad you are so good at remembering!). OK, so that one's out there, but you get the idea. FIND OR MANUFACTURE REASONS TO PRAISE HER. She needs to know how good that feels. Once she gets some and knows she can get more she will crave it!

Next, jump over to my advice to another Frustrated Mama and try out some of the tips I gave her. And then, for a good laugh and some more ideas go check out the story about my very stubborn friend and her trashy kid. (Be sure to read all the comments, too. They're a hoot!) Mix and match until you find what works sanely for you. And then stick to it!

None of this is going to make her a perfect child. None of it is going to make you a perfect mother. But SOME of it will give you a little peace and make life a bit easier for all concerned.

Good luck and keep us posted on how it goes!

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OK, that's it for today's questions. And by the way, I'm going to post these over on my advice column at DeKalb Ramblings, too. I have a feeling that y'all aren't the only ones who have some of these questions. Might as well share. Only difference is that if you don't want me to I won't use your real name or blog link. Just let me know.

Peace, Blessings, and Good questions, y'all!

Ask Damama

2010-01-06T20:12:00.005-06:00

Todays edition of my life's insanity has left me asking many questions. Having no answer for the perplexing questions in my mind, I thought I'd give you a chance to ask me questions to test myself and see if I have truly lost my everlovinfreakin mind or if I can actually still answer SOMEBODY'S LIFE QUERIES...

So go ahead. Ask away. ANYTHING. I'll even start you off with the answer to a recently emailed question:

KK in KC asks: Why do you have a squirrel in your header? Is it to show that you are a squirrelly old broad?

Dear KK: ROFL! Yes, honey, that's a big part of it, but it's more in honor of Hunker D. If you'll go read A Squirrel's Tale it will explain a lot. Be warned, though, the little bugger's pretty long-winded.

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OK, now the rest of you - Whatcha wanna know? How to get your kids to brush their teeth? How to get your fake houseplants clean? Just ask. I may not know the real answer but I bet I can make ya laugh...

Peace, Blessings, and Dear Abby eat your heart out!

Lest I forget...some more.

2010-01-04T22:17:00.004-06:00

We took some really neat pictures with my nephew and his family, but when I look at this one all I see is the big blue blob in the middle. I'm posting it here to solidify in my mind why I HAVE to lose weight.

Damama T, Cameron, Tyler

I did pretty well today. Until tonight. Hubby went to bed at 9:30 and I intended to just get a post up and then join him. Then I got sidetracked, and bogged down, and couldn't think of anything to post. And I drained the last of the water from my glass. And I went to the kitchen to refill it. And I saw the caramel corn my friend made me for Christmas. I don't really like the fact that it had peanuts in it, but... Just one bite of the popcorn part.... And another. And... Well, I might as well finish it off so it won't be here nagging me tomorrow. And now I'm sitting here feeling like a total failure. Why didn't I just throw it away?

Thank God for new mercies every morning. I will start again in the A.M. And I will do better.

One day at a time, right?

Peace, Blessings, and God grant me the serenity.

She may be skinny, but...

2010-01-03T22:56:00.001-06:00

Found this at my favorite little resale hole in the wall. Love it so much I had to share.

Have a great week, y'all. I'm starting my full-on journey toward being that skinny bitch in the morning. All good wishes and positive prayers gratefully accepted.

Peace, Blessings, and Healthy eats to us all.

The Blessing of the Odd Socks

2010-01-02T23:01:00.000-06:00

I have this thing about odd socks. I'm so sure that eventually the mate will show up that I've spent the last 30 years holding onto every lonely only that came out of the dryer. Once every couple of months I dump them all out and try to match them up. The result is discouraging to say the least.

Last Tuesday I FINALLY got fed up with it. I determined to once and for all go through the sock basket, match up everything I could, and get rid of the rest. The laundry was done and the house was relatively clean so I knew that there shouldn't be any stragglers hiding in the dark recesses under MG's bed. After three hours of the kind of frustration that only comes from putting a puzzle together just to find out there are pieces missing I'd finally managed to match what was matchable. The rest I dumped in a repurposed dry cleaning bag and posted it on Freecycle.

Mandi's son, Zachary, is disabled. Last Tuesday Mandi was reading Zach a book in which there were sock puppets. When her little guy's eyes lit up and he said he wanted to make some sock puppets like those in the book Mandy immediately emailed her church group asking for odd socks.

Wednesday morning one of Mandi's church lady friends phoned her to say that she'd just seen a bag of odd socks offered on Freecycle. She gave Mandi my email address.

Sitting at Subway enjoying a rare good day with MG, my phone beeped notifying me I'd received a new email (yes, in addition to twittering my life away I'm an email freak). When I read the email I immediately called Mandi and scheduled a meeting at 4:00 for her to come pick up the bag. In less than 24 hours the socks were on their way to a new and more purposeful life.

Coincidence? I don't think so. I think it's yet another in a long line of Godincidences that have blessed my life. And it is yet another reminder that God truly does have it all covered.

Peace, Blessings, and Lambchop Love to all!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2010-01-01T19:15:00.004-06:00

The last decade brought changes of unimaginable magnitude into my life. We adopted MG. Twig went to prison, Bug married Lady N, Lady T moved out of the country - twice. ... and those are just a few of the major changes that happened.

This year is starting off with more bangs - but good stuff is on the horizon this time. MG is going back into the National Guard Youth Challenge Program later this month. In February Twig will be released to the halfway house and then home by the end of June. And I plan on losing more than 100 lbs. Yep, that's right. 1.0.0.

It's going to be another challenging year. How it'll turn out is anybody's guess, but I invite you to stick around. There'll be daily updates (yes, I said daily) full of rants and raves, laughter and tears. At the very least, it should be an interesting ride.

I just have one favor to ask. PLEASE leave comments. I need your support. I'm a junkie, you know. If I can't get my fix here I'll just revert to my old addiction and go eat something. (yes, that's blackmail. heh heh heh).

So for now, I'm outta here. It's been a long day of dismantling Hubby's annual Christmas Extravaganza. I'm going to be early.

Peace, Blessings, and Y'all come back now, y'hear!!

Truly Unconditional - A Love Story

2009-12-15T12:06:00.002-06:00

With the flu running rampant in town, I was not surprised to find the doctor's waiting area over-full. As I stood for a moment by the front desk waiting for a seat to clear I had the opportunity to do my favorite thing: watch people. Scanning the back of the room I saw an eager face grinning and nodding at me. When we made eye contact her eyes lit up like sparklers on the Fourth of July and she motioned for me to come sit next to her.

As soon as I sat down she opened the coloring book she was working in to a new page and offered to let me color with her. The elderly man sitting next to her said gently, "Sally, lets not bother the nice lady, okay Honey?" I assured him that I was honored to be allowed to share in the fun.

"I like kitties best," she said as she thoughtfully eyed the box full of crayons on the table in front of her. "What's your favorite color? I like purple best."

"That's really neat, Sally," I said, "because that's MY favorite color, too!"

Sally already had the purple crayon in her hand, poised to tint the flowers on her page. She only hesitated a second before she handed it to me.

"You can go first." she said as she patted my hand, and for the next while we colored and giggled as only little girls do.

Sally and I finished one set of pages and were about to start another when the nurse came out and called her name. With loving patience the kind old gentleman helped her gather up her crayons, books, and sweater while the nurse waited for him to escort his wife of 63 years into the exam room.

"To love a person is to learn the song that is in their heart, and to sing it to them when they have forgotten." - Anonymous

Photo courtesy of www.dhs.ri.gov I wish I'd thought to take a picture of the real couple.

Rest with The Father, Bryson Drago Ross

2009-12-14T23:04:00.003-06:00

Bryson, the son of Shellie Ross aka Military_Mom on Twitter, died today after a tragic accident. He was only two years old. Please take a moment to offer a prayer for the Ross family and if you have time, go post your condolences on her Twitpic tribute to Bryson or leave her a comment on her Blog 4 Mom page.

Hold on 'till Tomorrow

There are no words to ease the pain.
Nor enough tears to wash the sorrow.
There is only the knowledge that you are loved,
so hang on 'til tomorrow.
For in the morning all things are made new
and though your babe is gone,
the love you shared will carry you through.
So hold on till the dawn.
The night time comes to steal your peace
with the deafening quiet it brings.
But close your ears and open your heart
because that's where His voice sings
So rest your weary mind tonight;
Know that your son rests well
With the Father of all who knows the pain;
Whose teardrops also fell.
No, there are no words that can ease the pain.

Nor tears to wash the sorrow.

There is only the knowledge that you are loved.
And you WILL see him tomorrow.

AARP Letter Part II - The Firestorm.

2009-12-06T16:29:00.006-06:00

OH MY! What a firestorm that email/post caused! I never knew that so many of you had so very, very many strong and diverging opinions. (Yes, I'm totally lying!) I am honored that you feel confident enough in our friendship to be able to speak your mind. (And knowing me that well you realize that was my goal from the get-go, don't ya! MWAHAHA!)

First - Please stop with the "You're a racist" stuff. If I was a racist or a bigot, half of you wouldn't be on my mailing list in the first place.

Second - Please stop with the "To hell with them all" comments. If I believed that the only people who belong in America are Americans I'd need to delete about 2/3 of the people I really care about off my Christmas list. Just about the only ones left would be Hubby's paternal family since they are directly descended from Native Americans.

Since most of your comments have to do with just one topic, I'm going to answer you all at once to keep from getting typer's cramp.

1. Immigration: A. The problem is not just Mexicans. B. I am not against immigration. When done properly the resulting cultural diversity makes for a richer and much more interesting life experience. What I AM against is the encouragement of people to hop on over expecting to get all the rights and privileges of those who came here through proper channels or worked their butts of to make it legal once they got here.

I do not want all "illegals" deported. I know and love a great many who either are here or come from families who came here in the dark of night. By and large they are honest, hardworking people who just want what we all want: a better life for ourselves and those we love.

What I DO want is to find a way to make EVERYONE accountable like the rest of us because I also know a number of people - not just Mexicans and not just illegals - who are here doing their prospering thing but never paying a dime in taxes yet enjoying the educational and social benefits afforded by those of us who do.THAT bugs me! No matter who you are or where you are from, PAY YOUR FAIR SHARE OF THE FLIPPING TAX BILL.

While I'm on a soap box, whether one is born here, crawled through the desert or floated for days on end to get here, mooching is not acceptable. Period. And we, as a nation, need to stop encouraging it by allowing people to just take and take without giving anything back. As any good parent knows the more we give our children without expecting them to earn it the more they want and the more they feel entitled to get everything for nothing. There's a lot of infrastructure work out there that needs doing. As far as I'm concerned, every able-bodied person who expects something free should be required to get out and paint, nail, mow, clean, etc., etc., etc....

Come on, folks, we are a bunch of smart sunnaguns. Surely we can figure out a way to allow people to come here and participate in (not mooch off of) our American dream!

2. Healthcare: I am NOT against healtcare reform. I AM against letting the government run it. There needs to be some major changes across the board. I have my opinions and my own fears.
Mostly I fear allowing the government to take over cuz they don't do such a good job at stuff, ya know...

However there's another very sad part of the healthcare thing that dovetails in with the immigration thing. I recently had to take one of my 'kids' to the local county hospital. But that's a story for tomorrow. Come on back for the continuing saga of the AARP letter and its fallout.

Until later,

Peace, Blessings, Love, and Respect to all.

Letter to AARP

2009-12-05T12:51:00.004-06:00

I know I promised you a story about unconditional love today. That was before this came into my mailbox. I think it's worth sharing.

I LOVE THIS! I totally agree with it. If that makes you not like me, sorry. I'll love you anyway.

Peace, Blessings, and GOD BLESS AND PROTECT AMERICA!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was sent to Mr. Rand who is the Executive Director of AARP.

THIS LADY NOT ONLY HAS A GRASP OF 'THE SITUATION' BUT AN INCREDIBLE COMMAND OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE!

Dear Mr. Rand,

Recently you sent us a letter encouraging us to renew our lapsed membership in AARP by the requested date. I know it is not what you were looking for, but this is the most honest response I can give you. Our gap in coverage is merely a microscopic symptom of the real problem, a deepening lack of faith.

While we have proudly maintained our membership for several years and have long admired the AARP goals and principles, regrettably, we can no longer endorse it's abdication of our values. Your letter specifically stated that we can count on AARP to speak up for our rights, yet the voice we hear is not ours. Your offer of being kept up to date on important issues through DIVIDED WE FAIL presents neither an impartial view nor the one we have come to embrace. We do believe that when two parties agree all the time on everything presented to them, one is probably not necessary. But, when the opinions and long term goals are diametrically opposed, the divorce is imminent. This is the philosophy which spawned our 200 years of government.

Once upon a time, we looked forward to being part of the senior demographic. We also looked to AARP to provide certain benefits and give our voice a power we could not possibly hope to achieve on our own. AARP gave us a sense of belonging which we no longer enjoy. The Socialist politics practiced by the Obama administration and empowered by AARP serves only to raise the blood pressure my medical insurance strives to contain. Clearly a conflict of interest there!

We do not understand the AARP posture, feel greatly betrayed by the guiding forces that we expected to map out our senior years and leave your ranks with a great sense of regret. We mitigate that disappointment with the relief of knowing that we are not contributing to the problem anymore by renewing our membership. There are numerous other organizations which offer discounts without threatening our way of life or offending our sensibilities.

This Presidential Administration scares the living daylights out of us. Not just for ourselves, but for our proud and bloodstained heritage. But even more importantly for our children and grandchildren. Washington has rendered Soylent Green a prophetic cautionary tale rather than a nonfiction scare tactic. I have never in my life endorsed any militant or radical groups, yet now I find myself listening to them. I don't have to agree with them to appreciate the fear which birthed their existence. Their borderline insanity presents little more than a balance to the voice of the Socialist mindset in power. Perhaps I became American by a great stroke of luck in some cosmic uterine lottery, but in my adulthood I CHOOSE to embrace it and nurture the freedoms it represents as well as the responsibilities it requires.

Your website generously offers us the opportunity to receive all communication in Spanish. ARE YOU KIDDING??? Someone has broken into our 'house', invaded our home without our invitation or consent. The President has insisted we keep the perpetrator in comfort and learn the perp language so we can communicate our reluctant welcome to them..

I DON'T choose to welcome them.

I DON'T choose to support them.

I DON'T choose to educate them.

I DON'T choose to medicate them, pay for their food or clothing.

American home invaders get arrested.

Please explain to me why foreign lawbreakers can enjoy privileges on American soil that Americans do not get?

Why do some immigrants have to play the game to be welcomed and others only have to break & enter to be welcomed?

We travel for a living. Walt hauls horses all over this great country, averaging over 10,000 miles a month when he is out there. He meets more people than a politician on caffeine overdose. Of all the many good folks he enjoyed on this last 10,000 miles, this trip yielded only ONE supporter of the current administration. One of us is out of touch with mainstream America . Since our poll is conducted without funding, I have more faith in it than one which is power driven.

We have decided to forward this to everyone on our mailing list, and will encourage them to do the same. With several hundred in my address book, I have every faith that the eventual exponential factor will make a credible statement to you.

I am disappointed as hell.

I am scared as hell.

I am MAD as hell, and I'm NOT gonna take it anymore!

Walt & Cyndy

Miller Farms Equine Transport

http://www.snopes.com/politics/soapbox/aarp.asp

I ENCOURAGE EVERYONE TO KEEP THIS MOVING FORWARD

Skywatch Friday - A crown of clouds

2009-12-04T21:03:00.000-06:00

For more great sky shots head on over to:

Cow Power

2009-12-02T21:10:00.000-06:00

Wow! It looks like they finally found a way to covert all that methane gas into usable energy!

Peace, Blessings, and MOOOOOO

Progressive Thinking

2009-12-01T23:39:00.000-06:00

Earlier this year I decided to switch our car insurance to Progressive. I'm so glad I did! I love their online account management tools. I love their rates. I love their customer service people.

Now, you know that I normally rant on the bad customer service I receive. Honestly, though, I cannot find anything to complain about here! No, I'm not getting paid to do this. I just thought you might like to know that I don't always just complain. I also thought that, if you're looking for new coverage that I'd recommend these folks. Besides, That Betty Boop-ity gal is just too cute.

Peace, Blessings, and Safe travels!

I DID IT!!! I DID IT!!!

2009-11-30T22:59:00.000-06:00

Thirty posts in thirty days!

Now I just have to maintain my resolve to post regularly from now on. Maybe, just maybe, if I do some more of the people who use to hang out around here will come back more often, too!

HAVE A HAPPY WHATEVER, Y'ALL!!

Need Glasses?

2009-11-29T20:37:00.000-06:00

My great bloggy friend Margie sends me the coolest stuff! Take a look at this picture. It is a test of your powers of observation. Look closely. After you've spotted everything you think might be the target scroll down to the bottom for the answer.

OK, what'd you see? Did you see the bare hiney on that girl in the pink shirt?

If so YOU NEED GLASSES!

Look again, silly. It's just the arm of the girl holding the camera. Now we know where your mind was!

It's always a good idea to look twice when we see something that looks offensive. You never know when what you thought you saw is actually something altogether different. Same thing applies to how you hear what people say. Before you judge, check again... you may need to clean your emotional glasses.

Peace, Blessings, and Get your mind outta the gutter!

A meaty question

2009-11-28T22:13:00.000-06:00

Can anybody tell me how this happens? I bought some hamburger meat and didn't open it until a couple of days later. It smelled OK, but when I started breaking it apart this is what I found:

While the outside was all red and pretty, the inside was brown and slimy!! YUUUUUCK! The only way I can think this might happen is if they wrapped new meat around older meat to get it sold. G.R.O.S.S.!!!

Unfortunately I'd thrown the receipt away already so had no proof of when I purchased it and the manager at the store told me that there was nothing she could do about it. Needless to say I'll not be shopping at that store anymore.

Personal disasters for which I am abundantly thankful - Part II

2009-11-27T23:43:00.000-06:00

Being abandoned by my biological mother - Aside from the obvious gratitude of having been adopted by my amazing mother, there is another important reason. The members of the biological family from which I came have a long history of miscreant behavior. Alcohol and drug addiction are accepted norms. Had I stayed in that world I may never have developed the aversion to that out of control feeling I get when I drink. I would probably have just accepted that behavior as a part of “having a good time. By now I would have most certainly been a raging alcoholic. Or worse.

That I wrecked my mother’s car a week after I got my driver’s license - A mere six blocks from home a woman backed out of her driveway right into the front end of my mother’s car. There was nothing I could have done to prevent the accident because it happened so fast that there was no way around her. (She had a history of peeling out of her driveway without looking.) When my parents arrived on the scene Mother immediately snatched me into her arms and comforted me. My father inspected the car and pronounced it drivable -- and told me to get in and drive home. I pleaded with him to let me ride home with Mom. He very firmly ordered me to "get back in that damn car and drive it home." I did, crying the whole way. When we got in the house Dad made me sit down and let him explain why I had to do it. He knew that if I allowed my fear to take over I’d never be sure of myself behind the wheel again. The lesson of facing my fears stuck and has been carried forward throughout my life.

Being divorced twice before I was 23 - My first two marital failures laid the foundation for the success of my third. The first taught me the importance of maintaining your friendship with your spouse. The second taught me to listen to my instincts. By the time I met Hubby I’d finally figured out what I wanted and what I would and would not accept in a mate. We celebrated 28 years of marriage this past April.

That Twig went to prison - By the time he turned 20 Twig had had two serious near-miss direct threats on his life and had been involved in more dangerous behavior than this mother‘s heart can stand to think about. In both instances God changed circumstances and put up roadblocks to keep his potential assassins from completing their tasks. During those dark days of his life there were weeks, sometime months, that I would not hear from him. I became very well acquainted with the staffs of three local county coroners offices Every time I’d hear on the news that a young man had been found dead I’d call. Towards the end they started recognizing my voice and would have the answer before I asked the question. “No, ma’am. This one doesn’t have that identifying mark.” I truly, in my heart of hearts, believe that being sentenced to prison saved his life. I’m thinking God’s got something in store for that boy that is going to seriously rock somebody's socks off.

That someone once reported us to CPS (Children‘s Protective Services) - During the worst of My Girl’s emotional/mental/behavioral nightmare days we were in the process of trying to figure out how to get her the help she needed. The insurance had run out and we’d already gone through our available cash. The only course left for us was to go back to CPS and ask for assistance. We knew that it might mean they’d take her back but we were willing to let her go if that’s what it took to get her the help she needed. As it turned out, in Texas there is a Joint Managing Conservatorship available for struggling parents of adopted children with emotional disorders. The process of getting it pushed through, though, was going to take several months -- longer than the hospital would let us keep her there without going on a prepaid plan. One afternoon I hung up with yet another discussion with the hospital administrator just the doorbell rang. A man from CPS informed me that we had been accused of child abuse and he was here to investigate. As it turned out, abuse investigations glean the same information required by the JMC review committee only they have to get it a whole lot faster. Because someone turned us in as abusive parents (which was so totally unfounded that every doctor, counselor, law enforcement agency, and CPS worker we’d dealt with wrote letters of support for us) the JMC was pushed through in record time. In less than a month MG belonged 51% to the State of Texas and 49% to us and I was named as her case manager giving me unprecedented total control over her treatment while the state paid all bills that our insurance wouldn’t. It also confused the dickens out of the staff at the hospitals where she resided for the next 16 months. They weren’t use to having CPS AND the child’s parents involved all at the same time… but that’s a story for another day.

That I almost died of chemical poisoning - In early 1980 we’d gone to my parent’s lake house to help them work on the fiberglass porch roof. The chemical solvent used to ‘glue’ the fiberglass panels together is call MEKP. It is supposed to be stored cold. When it’s cold it has no odor and is clear. And looks like water in an unmarked jar in the fridge. When 15-month-old Bug wanted a drink of water I poured him a glass out of the jar Mom always kept in the fridge. Thank GOD I took a swig of it before handing it to him. I knew immediately that something was seriously wrong. Soon-to-be Hubby drove 90 mph to get me to the nearest ER. I spent 2 days in ICU and I think 5 more in the hospital. If I’d given the glass to Bug he would have died before we could get to the hospital.

When we look back over our lives we see a landscape pock-marked by disastrous, life-altering explosions. We can choose to allow the shrapnel to cripple us or we can choose to melt it down and use it as building blocks to a stronger, safer, more fulfilling future. I am personally grateful for the challenges that made me the strong, self-assured woman I am today.

During this season of Thanksgiving, what life-alering disasters are you grateful for? What has strengthen you? Take a look back. You might be surprised...

Personal disasters for which I am abundantly thankful

2009-11-26T21:10:00.004-06:00

Being abandoned by my biological mother

That I wrecked my mother’s car a week after I got my driver’s license

Being divorced twice before I was 23

That Twig went to prison

That someone once reported us to CPS

That I almost died of chemical poisoning

Tomorrow, I’ll tell you why.

Early Turkey

2009-11-25T23:34:00.000-06:00

We had an early Thanksgiving feast with our oldest friends tonight. I'm stuffed! Come back tomorrow for my list of personal disasters for which I am abundantly grateful. For now, if you want to read some of my earlier posts on Thanksgiving fun check out:

The Turkey's First Bird - The story of the first time Hubby ever cooked Thanksgiving dinner.

For tonight, sleep well with sweetpotato and pumpkin pie dreams.

Animations provided by MySpaceAnimations.com

WHEN YOU THOUGHT I WASN'T LOOKING

2009-11-24T23:27:00.000-06:00

A message every adult should read because children

are watching you and doing as you do, not as you say.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you hang my

first painting on the refrigerator, and I immediately

wanted to paint another one.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you feed a

stray cat, and I learned that it was good to be kind

to animals.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make my

favorite cake for me, and I learned that the little

things can be the special things in life.

When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a

prayer, and I knew that there is a God I could always

talk to, and I learned to trust in Him.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you make a

meal and take it to a friend who was sick, and I

learned that we all have to help take care of each other.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw you take care

of our house and everyone in it, and I learned we have

to take care of what we are given.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw how you

handled your responsibilities, even when you didn't

feel good, and I learned that I would have to be

responsible when I grow up.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw tears come

from your eyes, and I learned that sometimes things

hurt, but it's all right to cry.

When you thought I wasn't looking I saw that you

cared, and I wanted to be everything that I could be.

When you thought I wasn't looking I learned most of

life's lessons that I need to know to be a good and

productive person when I grow up..

When you thought I wasn't looking I looked at you and

wanted to say, 'Thanks for all the things I saw when

you thought I wasn't looking.'

I AM SENDING THIS TO ALL OF THE PEOPLE I KNOW

WHO DO SO MUCH FOR OTHERS,

BUT THINK THAT NO ONE EVER SEES.

LITTLE EYES SEE A LOT .

Each of us (parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, teacher, friend)

influences the life of a child.

How will you touch the life of someone today? Just by

sending this to someone else, you will probably make

them at least think about their influence on others.

Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply.

Speak kindly.

Leave the rest to God.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grandma Margie emailed this to me a long time ago. I thought today would be a great day to share it. I have not idea who wrote it or where the email originated. If you do PLEASE let me know so that I can give proper credit.

Peace, Blessings and Remember that little pitchers have big ears.

My hairy problem

2009-11-23T22:18:00.000-06:00

A story in pictures. Well, mostly...

Never in my life did I think I'd have to wax (ok, so it's duct tape) my COUCH! Anybody have any suggestions on an easier way to get the hair out of the cracks... outside of keeping the dogs off the couch cuz, well, they pretty much own the house.

We is friends...

2009-11-22T23:15:00.000-06:00

Nuff said.

Proof... And a winner, too!

2009-11-21T17:14:00.001-06:00

... that on Saturday, November 21, 2009, MY REFRIGERATOR WAS CLEAN!

And if you look VEEEEERY closely you will see that

THERE IS NO KETCHUP IN IT!!

Now for the results of The Great Ketchup Debate:

75% of the twelves of ones of people who responded are of the misguided opinion that it belongs in the fridge. I will pray for your poor abused sauces...

And the winner of the contest amongst the commenters is Brandi. Congratulations, girl. And I won't even hold it against you if you put it in the fridge. ;o)

Peace, Blessings, and PANTRY!!!

Skywatch Friday - Lake Michigan Sunset

2009-11-20T23:58:00.002-06:00

Sunset on Lake Michigan as seen from the ferry on our ride back from Mackinaw Island.

I was just thinking...

2009-11-19T23:00:00.000-06:00

Why are laundry and bowel movements alike?

Dropping a load a day sure helps keep things cleaned out.

tee hee hee... that's what you get for making me actually DO something today!

Wordless Wednesday - Belted

2009-11-18T23:39:00.000-06:00

Caution: Extreme interpretation of seat belt laws may result in :

Just feel like sharin' the love... grrrrr

2009-11-17T21:40:00.000-06:00

Three guesses what kind of mood I'm in right now.... First two don't count!

The day started of like

About half way back from Fort Worth, I realized that something needed to be done about the S.T.U.P.I.D. drivers on the road so

Once home, a trip to the store resulted in

Maybe I'm a little tired and need some

But in the end, it all boils down to

Peace, Blessings and, Oh, what the hell....

Outtakes - Papertowel Perplexion

2009-11-16T23:34:00.000-06:00

Kids STILL say the darndest things!

I walked into the public restroom to find a little girl waving her hands in the air while talking to her mommy who was still in the stall:

Mommy: Are you washing your hands?
Cutiepie: Yes, Mommy. I finished.
Mommy: Okay. Dry your hands and stay right there. I'll be out in a minute.
Cutiepie: I can't, Mommy.
Mommy: Why not?
Cutiepie, still waving her hands in the air: The towels won't come out.

It was then that I realized why she was waving her her hands around: she was standing in front of the old crank-style papertowel despenser trying to activate a sensor to get a towel. After stifling a chuckle I helped her get one.

Cutiepie to me: Thank you, Ma'am.

Mommy (who was obviously having some serious potty issues and thus unable to come out to check on who was with her daughter): Sarah, are you still there? Is everything alright?

Sarah, to her mother (at which point I literally snorted out a chuckle): Yes, Mommy. This old lady knew how to make it work.

Mommy: Sarah!

Just then another stall opened up and I entered, sparing the poor mother the humiliation of having to face me. While it was the funniest stinkin' thing I'd heard in a while, I knew from experience that Mommy would have been mortified to have had look me in the eye.

Peace, Blessings, and Never doubt that Old Dogs with their Old Tricks do sometimes come in handy!

How far or how long...

2009-11-15T23:45:00.001-06:00

The drive out to West Texas was pretty uneventful. We won't go into the drama at the hotel. Suffice it to say that nobody got much sleep.

The NGYCP-Texas Youth Challenge facility is a school turned TYC turned military-style youth rescue compound. Amazingly, I didn't get any pictues of it! DUH! I'll be sure to do better in January when we drop her off for the start of the program. I did get some of the scenery along the way, though. It's really a whole bunch of nothing but scrub brush and distant hills with roads cut through it all -- including the hills! LOL!

After the orientation session we dropped My Girl off in San Antonio. She was very obviously glad go see me go, but what bothers me more is that I was glad to be gone. And what hurts my heart the most is that despite my best efforts I don't know how to reach her. I don't know how to help her grow out of the childish, imature, grossly age-inappropriate behaviors that will be so life limiting for her.

I guess I could just quit trying. I guess I could let her continue on the path she's chosen and assume that eventually she will grow out of it. But that would require that she find somewhere else to live because I can't watch her do it to herself. Oh, wait. That's what she's done. So why am I agonizing over it? One good reason: I'm afraid of losing her. I'm afraid of failing her. I'm afraid of pushing her too far away and of holding her too close.

My fears don't really matter much, though, because no matter what I do she pushes me away. No matter how hard I try, what test I pass, what hurdles I jump, there are more trials, more tests, more reminders that I'm not her real mother; that her real family are the people who refused to give her a home and unconditional love and support when she needed it most. Then my hurt turns to resentment which turns to sniping. It's a vicious cycle that is slowly killing our relationship. So, now I have no choice but to walk away for a while. Maybe the separation will do us both good. I'm not going far. She can get to me when she's ready. I'm going to leave it up to her to decide how long or, like Martina McBride sings so beautifully, How Far...

Peace, Blessings, and Parental Wisdom to all.

Home again, home again...

2009-11-14T23:37:00.001-06:00

924.3 miles later, we are home. We left Friday at 10 a.m. and arrived back home at 11:30. Just now, I'm tired. No sleep last night because... well... drama. More later with pics. Right now, I'm going to bed.

Peace, Blessings, anzzzzzzzzz

My First Skywatch Friday

2009-11-13T18:50:00.001-06:00

During my long blogging absence I never stopped thinking about this place. I continued to take notes and snap pictures with the full intent of getting them posted. As you've noticed I didn't quite make it. Now that I'm back you're going to start seeing some of the stuff I've collected starting with this beautiful sunset from my driveway and the end of our street on Friday, July 17, 2009.

I remember standing there staring at the beauty not thinking about anything else but how much I wished my bloggy friends could be standing there sharing it with me. However you couldn't be so I grabbed my phone and snapped some pics. These are the best of them. I have not manipulated these colors at all.

Wishing you all Peace, Blessings and a Million Beautiful Sunsets.

Just because it's for the best...

2009-11-12T22:02:00.000-06:00

...doesn't mean it won't hurt.

My Girl has been accepted back into the National Guard Youth Challenge Program. We will be leaving tomorrow to take her to West Texas for orientation. Then we will be dropping her off in San Antonio to stay with her other family until January when the program officially starts.

She and I have somehow lost our ability to be in the room without sniping - or worse - over the last couple of months. We are both to blame, we both hate it, yet neither of us has a clue where to start to fix it. The best solution for now is for her to be elsewhere.

While I won't miss the daily cat fights, I will miss the beautiful heart that shines through now and then. I will miss the rare moments of light-hearted companionship. Even few and far between is better than nothing at all.

Truth be told, right now I feel pretty much like a failure in the Mom department. Why can't I just ignore her continual passive-aggressiveness? Why can't I find a way to teach her how to stop it?

I know that this is just part of the process she needs to go through to get to where she needs to be in life. I just wish it didn't hurt so much -- this struggle to accept that things didn't turn out the way I thought they would when we adopted her.

One day, with the grace of God, she will be grown and independent, and we will be able to look back and laugh. For now,

Peace, Blessings, and Pass the tissue box, please.

Happy Birthday!

2009-11-11T22:12:00.000-06:00

First off, let me say that I AM THE WORST MOTHER-IN-LAW IN THE WORLD! Lady N's birthday is November 9. Just TWO days before mine. How hard is it to remember to get a card mailed for her? Obviously it's too taxing for this old broad! So, I am officially apologizing for being such a putz!

I'M SORRY, LADY N. I HOPE YOUR BIRTHDAY WAS GREAT. The card's in the mail.

~~~~~~~

For my birthday, as usual, I got spoiled. This morning MG gave me a lovely card that made me cry. She picks the best cards! This afternoon Bug called and we talked for over an hour. He also gave me more Kiva bucks to spend. Yay! Tonight for dinner I wanted pizza. Hubby would have taken me anywhere but I just didn't feel like getting out. So we ordered pizza and he made me his special fudge brownies. And I got to have the whole bowl to lick all by myself since it's my birthday!

Hubby gave me two new Precious Moments.

MG gave me a pretty new red poncho-style coat.

Yesterday DD cleaned the whole house and did all the laundry so I'd have nothing to do today. She's also going to take me out to lunch one day next week. Also, Twig called yesterday cuz he got his days mixed up. But that's OK with me because it means I got to spread my birthday fun out over two days!

Last but not least, Hubby had to get in one more bit of fun before the day's out. He sent me these wassups just to make me laugh. It worked!

All in all it was a pretty great 53rd. Hope your day was good, too!

Peace, Blessings and SCORPIO'S RULE!

Customer Service Rant - Academy - FAIL!

2009-11-10T21:29:00.000-06:00

MG is heading off to the National Guard Youth Challenge Program again in January, so we are now in the process of re-buying all the supplies we donated to the program six weeks before she decided to re-apply. UGH! Anyway...

We took a trip to Academy today looking for training tennies, warm-up pants, sweat shirts, and gym shorts. The whole time we were in the clothing section I saw not one employee. When we went to look at shoes there were two there, neither of whom seemed to want to be bothered with something silly like answering quetions for us. Well, to be fair, one of them did glare at me and say "in a minute" and honor that by coming back, answering one question and then quickly disappearing again.

After 15 frustrating minutes of searching in vain for the shoes in boxes that matched the shoes on display I was ready to walk out. However, I'm not one to give up so easily. Instead, I pulled out my trusty new cell phone and called the store and requested to speak to the General Manager. Her polite "How may I help you?" gave me the perfect opening to explain that I was standing in her shoe department needing assistance but was loath to ask for help from either of the sullen, inattentive red-shirts I'd seen skulking about. Of course she promised to send someone right over.

Five minutes later we were just leaving when a woman who didn't even introduce herself showed up looking amused (WTFrig??). She followed me back to the aisle where we'd just been scavenger hunting and proceeded to re-scavenge the racks. And then guess what?? The "in a minute" chick decided to come help. However, all she managed to do was prove what a poor team leader -- yep, she wore a Team Lead badge! -- she is by not being able to find anything in her disorganized team zone. hmmmm... Ten MORE minutes later they both finally gave up and said the shoes we wanted weren't there. No offer to help us find the right size in another shoe. No apology for having wasted our time. Just "sorry, they aren't here."

As we were preparing to leave I couldn't resist the urge to get in one last ~~shot~~ teaching moment.

Me: Missy (not her real name, but DEFINITELY her real attitude), as a team leader you should keep in mind that the proper response to a customer's request for help is a smile accompanied by, "Yes, Ma'am. Let me finish with this one thing and I'll be right with you." Not, "in a minute."

Missy: What I said was "I'll be with you in a minute."

Me: Oh? I didn't hear the 'I'll be with you' part; probably due to the fact that the look on your face said, "why the heck are you bothering me?" which can be very distracting.

Missy: I didn't ignore y...

Me: Excuse me? Are you going to argue with me? Really? I'm trying to offer you constructive criticism here. Take it or leave it.

Missy: (now with fake smile gracing her mouth but woefully missing from her eyes) I'm sorry, that wasn't my intent. Thank you for the input. I will keep it in mind.

The manager-type person never said a word.

So, three guesses where my next Web surf will take me... I sure hope Academy has an onine complaint form to make it easier.

Peace, Blessings, and Really? Geesh!

Mario rides again!

2009-11-09T20:47:00.001-06:00

I think I've fallen into some weird parallel timewarp universe! I'm sitting in my living room with 3 teenagers, this time 2 girls and 1 boy, laughing at them playing MARIO! Yep, the original!

The only thing that would make it more perfect would be if Bug was here to whip all their butts. That boy was one brick-bashing wizard!

Somewhere I have a video of Twig at age 3 sitting on the floor, holding down the jump button singing, "Here comes Peter Cot-ton Tail. Hop-pin dowwwwwn thuh bunny traiiiil..." If I can ever find it and figure out how to get it onto here, I'll post it for you. He was soooo cute!

Funny how one old game can evoke so many great memories. Wonderful how that same old game is now making some great new ones.

Peace, Blessings, and Boing! Boing! Boing! Boing!

The Great Ketchup Debate - Survey and Contest

2009-11-08T21:02:00.003-06:00

Take the Ketchup Survey!

While we are on the subject of food fun, I have a question for you: Where do you keep your ketchup? Around here it is a constant battle to keep it in its proper place: THE PANTRY.

There is absolutely nothing nastier than dipping nice hot french fries into icy ketchup rendering them nothing more than greasy, cold potato sticks. And don't even get me started on the blasphemy of putting frigid red goop on my perfectly baked meat loaf. GRRRRR

Since the girls like it cold and Hubby and I like it room temp, I started wondering what the masses here in the blogverse think. Soooo, if you would be so kind as to participate in my little survey I would be EVER so grateful.

Look over there to the right in my sidebar under that precious little nose picker. There's a survey form. I'm going to keep it up there unitl 11/15 so send all your friends over to vote.

Plus, leave me a comment and once the survey's done I'll draw somebody's name out of a hat and send them a bottle of ketchup. And yes, you can keep it wherever you want

Can't wait to see who wins... not that that'll make me change MY opinion... It'll just make me laugh at yours (if you happen to pick wrong!) LOLOLOL!

OK - now go back up there and CLICKY CLICKY!!
TAKE THE KETCHUP SURVEY

Lazy Saturday - Fun with Food

2009-11-07T20:37:00.004-06:00

You know that you need to find a hobby when the most interesting thing you do all day is look for fun shapes in your food...

An onion reeeeng I almost didn't have the heart to eat.

A sweet little hushmousie

My pet cheetokeet.

Yes, I know I'm strange...

Peace, Blessings, and yomgoogsuf... Sorry. I was talking with food in my mouth.

Teach the Children Well & Honor those who do.

2009-11-06T20:20:00.007-06:00

The other day I was standing in line at the grocery store behind a couple of moms with school-age kids in tow. They were complaining, in front of the kids, about the supplies they were having to buy for an upcoming class project.

Mom 1: I don't know what she thinks they're going to learn from such a stupid project.
Mom 2: I know It is so totally lame! You know we are going to end up doing them just to get it done.
Both: HA HA HA HA

Mom 2: The thing that bothers me the most is why WE have to buy the junk to make it. Doesn't the school have a budget for that?
Mom 1: Well even if they don't the teachers get paid enough that they should have to buy the stuff to do it. If nothing else that would cut down on the number of stupid projects they want to do each year.
Both: HA HA HA HA HA!

The whole time the kids, who looked to be about 5th graders, were listening intently to every word. I wonder how long it will be before those two moms are getting notes home about their Little Johnnies acting out in class and disrespecting the teacher? And I wonder who the two mombos (my new name for bimbo moms) will blame it on?

I wanted so desperately to say something, but I knew that whatever I said at that moment would sound something like: "You stupid dumbass b****s! What the hell do you think you're doing undermining your child's education?? Grow the F up you mombo!" which would only have resulted in the total loss of my point. Instead, I opted to (uncharacteristically) bite my tongue and drag out this email from Grandmamargie that I've been saving for a while....

TEACHERS' SALARIES
Teachers' hefty salaries are driving up taxes, and they only work 9 or 10 months a year! It's time we put things in perspective and pay them for what they do--baby sit!
We can get that for less than minimum wage.

That's right. Let's give them $3 per hour and only the hours they worked, not
any of that silly planning time. That would be $24 a day (7:00 AM to 3:30 (or
so) PM with just 25 min. off for lunch). Each parent should pay $24 a day for
these teachers to baby-sit their children.
NOW...How many do they teach in a class, 30? So that's $24 x 30 =$720.00 a day.
However, remember they only work 180 days a year!!! We're not going to pay them for any vacations.
LET'S SEE....That's $720 x 180 = $ 129,600 per year.
What about those special teachers and the ones with master's degrees? Well, we could pay them closer to minimum wage. Just to be fair we'll go $7.00 an hour. That would be $7 x 8 hours x 30 children x 180 days = $302,400 per year.
Wait a minute! There' s something wrong here! Average teacher salary $50,000/180 days = $277/per day/30 students =$9.23/8 hours = $1.16 per hour per student.
A very inexpensive baby-sitter and they even try - with or without your help - to EDUCATE your kids!
WHAT A DEAL....And you don't even have to buy them pizza!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Make a teacher smile; show this to someone else who appreciates teachers...
Or someone who SHOULD!

Peace, Blessings & Thank God for those who teach.

Boomer Humor

2009-11-05T20:09:00.006-06:00

I got this from a friend via email. Have no idea where she got it but I love it and just had to share!

Some of the artists of the 60's are revising their hits with new lyrics to accommodate aging baby boomers. They include:

Herman's Hermits --- Mrs. Brown, You've Got a Lovely Walker.

Ringo Starr --- I Get by With a Little Help From Depends.

The Bee Gees --- How Can You Mend a Broken Hip?

Roberta Flack--- The First Time Ever I Forgot Your Face.

Johnny Nash --- I Can't See Clearly Now.

Paul Simon --- Fifty Ways to Lose Your Liver

The Commodores ---Once, Twice, Three Times to the Bathroom.

Marvin Gaye --- Heard It Through the Grape Nuts.

Procol Harem --- A Whiter Shade of Hair.

Leo Sayer --- You Make Me Feel Like Napping.

The Temptations --- Papa's Got a Kidney Stone.

Abba--- Denture Queen.

Tony Orlando --- Knock 3 Times On The Ceiling If You Hear Me Fall.

Helen Reddy --- I Am Woman, Hear Me Snore.

Leslie Gore--- It's My Procedure, and I'll Cry If I Want To.

Willie Nelson --- On the Commode Again

And Last but NOT least, my personal anthem

Bobby Darin --- Splish, Splash, I Was Havin' a Flash.

Wordless Wednesday - Dinner Companion

2009-11-04T23:19:00.002-06:00

This is why we don't eat at the breakfast table anymore...

Peace, Blessings, and Food? You gots food up der??

Goodbye NV. You will be missed.

2009-11-03T20:15:00.005-06:00

I met NV in October of 2008. We quickly became fast friends --most always joined at the hip. NV was the smartest little thing that I'd ever seen. I was totally amazed at how quickly she could retrieve a world of information from the recesses of her busy mind. Her ability to identify any song by not only its name but also the artist and album from which it came was astounding. I tend to get lost because of an horrendous lack of any sense of direction. NV, however, had this built-in navigational sense that kept us from ending up in south BFE more times that I can remember.

Late this afternoon, in a misguided attempt to become an Olympic swimmer, NV dove head-first into the shallow end of our pool. Sadly, despite my heroic efforts to fish her out as quickly as possible, she drowned. Mostly because there was no friggin way I was jumping into 60 degree water to save a suicidal CELL PHONE!

RIP Sweet NV. Your replacement comes tomorrow. With any luck the insurance company won't have any more of your siblings and they'll have to send me your nephew, Envy 3. At least then your death won't have been in vain.

Peace, Blessings, and Where the heck is that dang UPS delivery truck???????

My not so rad RADS.

2009-11-02T22:13:00.005-06:00

OK! OK! For those of you who keep emailing me wanting to know where the heck I've been since the end of August, here's the skinny...

The first Saturday in September I got a little bit of a sore throat. On Sunday it moved into my chest and I sounded like a bullfrog with a mouthful of cotton balls. When I finally went to the doctor on Wednesday I joked that I'd thought about holding off for another day or so. She laughed and said that would have been OK because then she could have charged me more for visiting me in the hospital. Funny lady.

Whatever hit me has been going around big time but stuff like that effects me more because of my wonderfully sensitive lungs. You see, back in the late 70s I worked in a chemical plant that manufactured stuff using liquid chlorine. If that stuff happened to escape somehow it would form a cloud containing chlorine gas. Deadly if you get caught in it for a long period of time. Lung damaging if you happen to drive through it on your way back from lunch with the windows down. At the time I just had a slight cough and it appeared to be no big deal. And I never thought to attribute the yearly bouts of bronchitis to that exposure until a couple of years ago when a very smart respiratory doc started asking questions trying to figure out why my lungs are so dang finicky. After hearing where I had worked he realized that the stuff I was exposed to has long-term damaging effects in some people. Yay me.

In my case it has caused Reactive Airways Dysfunction Syndrome or RADS. Breathing certain chemicals, including those in lots of colognes, will send my lungs into asthma-like spasms. Over the years the problem has gotten worse until now I have to carry a rescue inhaler with me at all times just like regular asthma patients. But it's not asthma. Weird, huh.

I've spent nearly two months trying to get my feet back under me. Only within the last week have I been able to stay vertical for more than an hour or two at a time, but I'm getting stronger every day. I still have to watch being out in public too much because my immune system isn't back to full strength yet.

So, thank you all for your prayers and concern and requests to get my butt back in the blogging game. But remember to be careful what you wish for... cuz I'M BAAACK!

OK, that's all for tonight. Until tomorrow,

Peace, Blessings, and Easy breathing to all

Nablopomo Intro: 26 things

2009-11-01T17:30:00.003-06:00

Guess what! I've decided to do the November post challenge on NaBloPoMo. That's right... go ahead and laugh. And scoff. And doubt. I know: you think I've been body snatched. Nope. I'm just tired of not doing what I love doing: writing. But I'm MORE tired of not talking to all the wonderful people I've met online through this blog. I miss hearing (OK, reading) about your life and times. So, to kick things off I saw this done by Roger (aka MylHiBug on Twitter - and HELLO ROGER! TWEET SOMETHING, WILL YA!) over at A Screed in Time who boosted it from Michelle of My Two Army Brats fame. I liked it so I boosted it, too! OK, so yes, it was several months ago (April!) that they posted theirs and I'm (a) behind. But anywhom, here goes:

A - Age: 53 this month. Unless, like most people, I get to count the day I first met my parents as my birthday, in which case I'm only 43. Either way, I'm good. And old. LOL!

B - Bed size: Queen

C - Chore you hate: Unloading the dishwasher, putting away laundry, filing paper work. I'm happy to load it, wash it, or pay it - just PLEASE don't make me do the rest! Isn't that why I had kids???

D - Dad's Name: Don

E- Essential start to your day item: COOOOOFFFFFEEEEEEE

F - Favorite actor(s): Male: Sam Elliott, Mike Rowe - both are rugged and sexy. Female: Doris Day because in her hayday she was amazingly beautiful, witty, and extremely talented. Plus, she's aged beautiful and gracefully -- something I so dearly aspire to personally achieve.

G - Gold or Silver: Gold

H - Height: 5ft 4in (At least for a few more years.)

I - Instruments you play(ed): Clarinet starting in 6th grade but only so I could get in the band to be a twirler.

J- Occupation: SAHMFCEFTN (stay at home mom/former corporate educator/full-time nut!)

K- Kid(s): Legally mine: Bug 30, Twig 27, MG 18 Should have been mine: Tori, DD, Angel

L - Living arrangements: Wonderfully blessed with a beautiful home that share with my husband of almost 30 years, MG, and DD (MG's best friend who needed a safe place to be for a while.)

M - Mom's name: Jo

N- Nicknames: B**** (At least that's what I get called by MG most of the time unless she wants something.) Sweetie (by Hubby)

O - Overnight hospital stay other than giving birth: Accidental MEKP poisoning in 1980. Almost died. Hysterectomy/Wisdom teeth extraction resulting in an anaerobic bacterial infection in my face in 1986. Almost died. If I was a cat I'd be down to only 8 lives left!

P - Pet Peeve: Tripping over MG's friggin clodhoppers in the middle of whatever floor she happens to be walking across when she decides to go barefoot!

Q - Quotes you like: We go through what we go through so we can help others go through what we went through. ~from my wonderful friend over at Family Life In the Desert

R - Right or left handed: Right

S - Siblings: None

T - Time you wake up: Use to be as late as possible but in the last few years I can't sleep past 8:30 or 9:00 most of the time.

U- Underwear: Granny panties... I CANNOT do buttfloss!

V - Vegetable you dislike: peas! I total agree with Michelle who said, "Seriously food should not explode in my mouth when I bite into it IYKWIM!!" Especially when the explosion is malodorous green slime! YUUUUCK!

W - Ways you run late: Just need to do one more quick thing...

X - X-rays you've had: So many I could be my own light source!

Y - Yummy food you make: Meatloaf. Seriously. It is one of my kids' favorites 'cuz it's all meat. None of those nasty fillers like carrots, corn, peas, etc. Just good old lean ground beef seasoned and cooked to perfection!

Z - Zodiac: Scorpio

OK, so that's it. Feel free to do your own 26 and then come let me know so I can see what all we have in common. I was amazed at how alike Michelle and I are.

For now, Peace Blessings and A B, C D, E F G....

Damama's Use it or Lose it Advice on: Living with a Clutterbug

2009-08-24T14:25:00.002-05:00

My latest question over at my advice column, Damama's Way in the ezine DeKalbRamblings.com, is something that hits way too close to home. It's definitely one of those "she who can't do, teaches" type of things. Amazingly (to me anyway) in typing the response to a reader's question I actually realized that I haven't been giving my husband nearly enough credit for all he puts up with. Here, in part, is what brought about this miraculous epiphany:

...

Dear Clutter Bug's Wife,

You and my hubby should really get together sometime and commiserate! I am
also a clutter-bug or as we say around here, a junker. (Hubby actually calls my
treasures, junk. Sadly, in lots of regards he's right. BUT IT'S MY JUNK,
dangit!!). Aw, honey. I'm sorry if I just ruined your image of me, but it's
true! It has taken me years to be able to start letting go of some things. Let
me share a little of what I've learned on my personal dejunking journey...
For most of us junkers our stuff falls in three categories:
Memories
Possibly Useful Sometime - Definitely useful 3 days after I get rid of
it.
SOME DAY THIS WILL BE PRICELESS!
Let's break it down:
...

Now here is where you get to decide if you really want to be challenged to rethink your junkatude or not. If you're interested in the rest of the story, jump on over to DeKalb Ramblings and check out the letter from Clutter Bug's Wife. (Note: If you're reading this more than two weeks after the date of this post, the letter may have been moved to the Advice Archives.) Then, please, please come back here and let me know if you agree or disagree and why. After a lifetime of trying to learn how to be a no-junker I'm really interested in better ways of living a simpler life.

As always, Peace, Blessings, and Hurry back!

Happy 30th Birthday Bug

2009-07-11T00:30:00.002-05:00

I use to sing this to you almost every night. It still holds true.

You are and always will be my sunshine.

I love you very much.

Oh, and.. llama llama

Love ya!
Mama

What's so special about July 8, 2009?

2009-07-08T00:48:00.003-05:00

What is so different about the 8th of July this year?

At 34 minutes and 56 seconds after 12 on the 8th of July this year, the time and date will be:

12:34:56 07/08/09

AND

At five minutes and six seconds after 4 on the 8th of July this year, the time and date will be:

04:05:06 07/08/09

That's all. Just thought it was a cool thing to share.

Until the pics work right...Have a Bidet!

2009-06-25T16:09:00.003-05:00

I know! I know! You want the vacation post. Well I'm having trouble getting the pictures to download right. So, until I get my camera to behave, I subit the following for your viewing pleasure.

I Have A Bidet! (Had A Bad Day Parody!)

Peace, Blessings, and Clean tushies to all!

Evil in a box.

2009-05-13T23:14:00.001-05:00

Seems like everywhere I turn these days I'm being attacked by The Evil One. No! Not that Evil One. His meaner, eviler twin brother, Bebellyzebub. What? You really thought all that bad stuff could be created by just one of 'em?? NO WAY!! Anyhow...

I really began noticing it about a month ago when I started being accosted by his cute little green-vested and brown-sashed minions as I tried to exit the grocery store with my bags full of ~~less expensive junk food~~ healthy, nutritious snacks. I know they were evil because I was immediately overcome with the irresistibly lustful NEED, yes I say NEEEED!, to purchase at least two boxes of their sinful delights on every shopping trip. Then, while looking for a periodic table to include in Bug's new company website (to be announced later!!), I found this. (Click it to make it bigger. Really. Click it!)

Imsebeus, I dell ooo. Viabowicly imsebeus! Oh, sorry. I was talking with ~~a couple of dunked Trefoils~~ food in my mouth. Now that I've washed the sin down with some cold milk, what I said was:

Insidious, I tell you. Diabolically insidious!

Bebellyzebub has even found ways to infiltrate the best sources of healthful holiness. I recently learned about something called the Joy Fit Club for "...determined people who have lost and kept off 100 pounds or more...." WOW! My heart 'bout exploded right outta my chest, I got so excited. See, I don't know anyone else in the real world who has 100+ pounds they need to lose, so seeing all these people succeed at it really got me motivated. I eagerly jumped onto the Today Show website to watch this video:

Visit msnbc.com for Breaking News, World News, and News about the Economy

You don't see them in this embedded version, but when you watch it on the site they play commercials between video segments and place advertisers' (AKA Bebellyzebub's silk-suited hawkers) bugs or teasers below the video screen. Here's the advertisement I saw when I was watching:

Hmmm... Dove. Just for you. And if you click on the picture you'll see that at the very bottom of the copy they added in the faintest of print, "My moment. My Dove" AACK! But, I'm a strong woman on a mission, I thought. I can ignore that commercial. Bebellyzebub's demons weren't quite done with me yet, though!

What do you see on this screen: Salmon salad or DOOOOVE CHOOOCOLAAAATE?? I got up to get a drink of water and clear my head before continuing.

The next great food suggestion was

But all I could see was CHOOOCOLAAAATE. Even as I sit here typing this my head is starting to swim and my mouth is beginning to water. This is EVIL, I TELL YOU!! I couldn't even listen to what they were saying much less read the screen titles because ...

CHOOOCOLAAAATE... Take it off today, my butt! The only thing I wanted to take off was the wrapper!

I finally just gave up and headed to the bank. That should be safe, right! NOT! Now, we all know that bankers are notorious for finding clever ways to extract as much money from our pockets as possible. However, I never thought they would stoop THIS low!

They actually had the audacity to put stacks and baskets of these on every available flat surface in the building. And then they dressed a couple of the shorter demons in little league baseball uniforms and had 'em stand there all big-eyed and cute making it totally IMPOSSIBLE to leave without buying a box. Or 3.

Needless to say, I won't be joining the Joy Fit club anytime soon. Now if you'll excuse me, the neighbor's high school band kid is at my door wanting me to look over their fund raiser catalogue. Do you think if I hung a cross and some garlic on the front porch it'd discourage the rest of the neighborhood demons from trying, too? Probably not. They'd just dip it in chocolate and try to sell me that, too! And I'd probably buy one. Or 3.

Peace and Joy Fit blessings to all.

Keep Believing

2009-04-19T07:55:00.001-05:00

I sat down here to write something profound about the fact that today is not only my husband's birthday but also Angie and Brian's wedding anniversary. I was going to talk about how blessed we both have been to have such wonderful men in our lives. But for some reason the words won't come. That always happens when I try to write about the things that are the absolutely most important in my life. There are just no words that seem adequate -- No turn of phrase that fully describes the total peace and gratitude that having this man in my life brings.

That was hard enough, but then I tried to add in something warm and insightful about Angie's loss of Brian and how hard it must be and how so amazingly, incredibly strong she is, and all I could do was cry... Cry for Angie as I try to imagine what her life must be like as she learns to walk through the shadows on this new path she's been pushed down... Cry for the fear that I wouldn't ever be able to be that strong...

In the end, the only thing I can really say coherently is this:

My best friend, strongest supporter, toughest critic, and most amazing lover turns 55 today. I am grateful to have been given 30 years (so far) with this amazing man. It seems like Only Yesterday that we met, and no other song says how I feel better:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HUBBY!
I am going to Keep Believing that we will have at least another 30 together.

My Girl is 5 today!

2009-04-07T22:18:00.012-05:00

Dear MG:

Wow! I cannot believe that it has already been five years since we stood in front of the judge and vowed to become a family. I'm still not sure you really wanted to make it legal. You had such hopes of somehow being able to live with your little brother. (I'm sorry we couldn't make that happen for you. At least we've been able to maintain contact and see him a few times a year.) I'm so glad you you didn't back out at the last minute; that somewhere deep inside you knew that in this family you would finally have a forever home.

What a rocky road we've had. You came to us so hurt by the life you'd already led. You were one angry, bitter, and often mean and cruel little girl who had built tall and thick walls around her heart to avoid being hurt anymore; who used emotions like a poisonous snake uses venom to paralyze anyone who dares get too close. But there were tiny slivers of cracks through which your true self shone so brightly that it was almost blinding. In those moments, when you let down your guard, Daddy and I saw a beautiful, loving, delightful spirit that we knew we had to free.

Now here we are, 6-1/2 years into our relationship, on the 5th anniversary of the day we finalized your adoption. It hasn't been easy, kiddo. There have been times when we wanted to turn tail and run for the nearest exit. But then we'd notice something miraculous: The cracks in the wall had widened a little more. With each catastrophic event came new insights. With each major blow-up came more cracks. With each heart-breaking, gut-wrenching setback came a few more steps toward you finding yourself.

Today, I can honestly say that there are more holes than wall. More and more the true heart of the little girl I fell in love with shines through.

My sweet little Girl, I want you to know that we have never stopped believing in you. No matter how hard things got, your dad and I have never (for more than a minute or two) been willing to give up on you. And we never will. And, until you can start believing in yourself enough to stand on your own, we will believe enough for you and be there to help you stand. Together, we will tear down the rest of the bricks and free that beautiful, loving heart for good and ever.

Please remember, honey, that you will not always be 17, with 17-year-old angst, hormonal upheavals, and fluctuating brain function . One day you will be a woman with an open and secure heart. And though I will ALWAYS be your mother, I will not always have to mother you. I look forward to the day when my daughter becomes a woman whom I will be honored to count among my best friends.

I love you, you sweet, ornery, uplifting, disheartening, insightful, stubborn, delightful pain in the butt. Thank you for being mine.

xoxoxo

Love,

Mom

Wall Photo Credit: Jonathandes

Twenty Five Years

2009-04-02T00:01:00.002-05:00

One-quarter of a century of birthdays and Christmases.

Three hundred months of love and laughter.

9,125 days of successes and failures, sadnesses and joys, triumphs and defeats.

219,000 hours of growth and understanding, of wisdom gained and sanity lost.

13,140,000 minutes of life void of a mother's advice. And annoyances.

Not one moment of regret for having been chosen as your own.

It's been twenty five years since I last heard you say, "I love you, my angel." Yet, somehow, I know that you've never left me. I've felt you near; heard you whisper softly in those wee hours of the morning when I'm not quite awake but not fully asleep.

I see your presence in the mirror of my mind when I have to live through hard times.

I remember the laughter in your eyes when I use one of your lines to deal with difficult people.

I live in the warmth of the love of the heart of the kindest, most loving and giving woman I've ever had the honor of knowing.

You were only my mother here on earth for 17 years, but you have never stopped being my mother here in my heart.

Happy 25th Heavenly Birthday, Mom. I love you very much. See ya in a few...

Mother and me - 1967

Brains for Sale!

2009-03-17T15:32:00.001-05:00

The other day I was driving down the road in a state of complete and utter puzzlement trying to remember why it was that I'd chosen to come this way instead of going the back road I usually prefer. That way has soooo many lights and the traffic is always horrendous. Now, there I was, sitting at one of those much despised stop lights, behind an 18-wheeler, trying to remember just what it was that I was supposed to do. The thought crossed my mind that what I really needed was a new brain. Especially since this old, hormonally-deficient piece of gray matter is obviously wearing out or I'd be able to remember why I was sitting there instead of cruising down the no-light road. UGH! About then the light changed and ever. so. slooowly. the 18-wheeler lumbered forward revealing this:

A New Brain in a Box!! Finally!! A store I can actually get excited about checking out!! Remember that I hate shopping unless it is absolutely necessary? Well, with the way my mind seems to be faltering lately, I do believe that a trip to this store may very quickly become an absolute necessity.

Being the ~~creative genius~~ ~~forward thinking~~ ~~desperately aging~~ ~~weirdo~~ person I am, my next thought was that, hey! if they can put a new brain in a box why not a new butt in a bottle? I mean, come on... how hard could that be? And lookie what I found at my very next stop!

Ok, so I'll give you the fact that it's really for rash relief, but think about it: How cool would it be to have something that you could sprinkle on your butt to turn it into the perfect posterior everyone dreams of? And since monkey butts are pretty ugly, that'd be a great name for it!

All right, enough of this fantasy fixers stuff. Guess I'd better get my monkey butt out of the chair, turn off the computer, and go finish planting my new flowers. Maybe the fresh Spring air and sunshine will clear out the cobwebs. And, now that I think about it, when it comes right down to it, I hate shopping so much that I'll even go exercise if it means staying out of a store.

Peace, Blessings, and Sunshine to all!

Have you scooched down lately?

2009-03-09T15:53:00.001-05:00

Well, it's that time of year again. You know the one I mean. That wonderful time when the sun shines and the birds sing merrily as life goes about the business of renewing itself. That time of year when we get everything cleaned out and spruced up. That wonderful time of the year when, after a job well done at home you can lay back and relax while you contemplate the wonders of the ceiling in your gynocologist's office.

Mrs. Hughes and I have so much in common but she tells it a lot better than I do!

As soon as you stop giggling, pick up the phone and make the appointment. We all have to go through it. Might as well get it done with the rest of your Spring Cleaning!

Peace, Love, and Scooch down, please.

ADvrD or What was that again?

2009-02-23T19:09:00.007-06:00

My sons are mad at me. Well, not really mad. More like annoyedly amused. For all the years they were growing up I flatly refused to pay for cable. Why should I? We had 6 perfectly good free channels including our local PBS broadcast. They didn't need to be spending any more time rotting their brains and eyeballs in front of a television anyway; they already spent enough time on video games. Besides, there really wasn't that much more good stuff on cable!

Excuse me -- Errrr... Waitress? May I please have some ketchup to go with this large serving of crow? Thank you. OK, where was I? Oh... Never mind. Moving on.

Back in June I was so fed up with Comcrap's excuses for why my Internet connection was down all the time that if I hadn't feared giving myself a black eye ala Groovin Granny I'd have jumped for joy when I learned about AT&T's new U-Verse service! I got even more excited when I realized that for the same price I was paying for Internet for two computers I could get three computers AND cable TV. My Scroogy heart nearly burst. Then I also learned that one of the receivers would come with a DVR. I really had no idea what a DVR was. Oh, I'd heard people talking about it but, again, what was the need? We had a perfectly good VCR. DUH, PEOPLE! Just how much electronic gadgetry does one household need?

Excuse me again -- Umm, Waitress!! Where is that ketchup? I cannot eat THIS MUCH CROW dry! GAH!!!! Anyway...

So they came and installed everything and I fiddled around with the new box long enough to figure out how to record a couple of things. Cool. Then I found more things that looked interesting and scheduled them to record. And.. oooo.. series! I can record whole a series with just a couple of flicks of my thumb?? And I can watch stuff later without rewinding. And I can fast-forward through commercials and hit play as soon as I see the show back on and the DVR automatically jumps it back about 5 seconds so I don't have to sit there doing the forward/backward tango to keep from missing the first two sentences after the break? OH. MY. FREAKIN. STARS. IN. HEAVEN!!! Closest I've ever come to to the BIG O with all my clothes on.

I was extolling the wonders of the DVR to a friend when she said, "you know you can pause live TV, too, right?" I laughed because I'd been caught up in one too many of her warped little mind games. Turns out she wasn't messing with my mind! YOU REALLY CAN PAUSE LIVE FEEDS!

Phone rings? PAUSE
Dog needs out? PAUSE!
Gotta tinkle? PAUSE!!!

And then it got better when I realized that not only could I pause, I COULD REWIND! Live shows. Feeding in right now!! I CAN REWIND IF I MISS SOMETHING!!

And that's when my real problem began... I developed

ADvrD

Almost over night I totally lost the ability to concentrate on any one show for more than 5 minutes at a time. Why should I? I can rewind to catch what I missed. Right? WRONG! The problem is that it has spilled over into my live life! And not everything has pause and rewind capabilities. Like the radio. Nope. Not there. I've given up on even trying to listen.

And people? Did you know that most people have tolerance for a maximum of three requests to repeat what they just said before they finally give up and quit talking to you? I do. I've proven it several times now. I think at this point it could actually be considered scientific fact.

So, if we are in the middle of a conversation and I don't appear to be paying attention it isn't my fault. And if I fade out or change subjects in mid-thought, I can't help it. I have a disorder. And I'm sure that somewhere at this very moment some medical lab is working on a pill to help me control it. Until then, I'll just have to......

Sex Ed: Part II - What Parents Should Know

2009-01-19T01:00:00.000-06:00

HOWDY!! Sorry it's taken so long to get back to this. Life on my particular roller coaster gets me down sometimes and, as I told Margie, sometimes it's better just to not spread the misery. Plus, when I'm all grumpy and frustrated, everything comes out negative and that is never what I want this place to be. Thought provoking, insightful, entertaining, funny, and lots of other things, but never intentionally and/or uncomfortably negative! Anywhom, on with the show...

The overwhelming question I get when counseling families and in the comments here is basically this: How do I keep my kid from ruining his/her life by having premarital sex?

I wish there were some easy answers to that question, but since there aren't, I'll tell you what I have seen work and what I've seen fail miserably.

The first thing parents have to realize is that when it comes to keeping teenagers from doing whatEVER they are going to do, GIVE UP STRESSING OVER IT. You cannot keep your kid from doing stupid if said kid decides that stupidity is more fun and rewarding than any resulting consequences. Our parents couldn't stop us. Their parents couldn't stop them. And so on, and so on, all the way back to Adam and Eve. Does this sound at all familiar:

God the Parent

After creating heaven and earth, God created Adam and Eve. And the first thing He said to them was:

"Don't."

"Don't what?" Adam asked.

"Don't eat the Forbidden Fruit." God replied.

"Forbidden fruit? We got Forbidden Fruit?

"Hey, Eve..we got Forbidden Fruit!"

"No way! Where?"

"Don't eat that fruit!" said God.

"Why?"

"Because I am your Creator and I said so!" said God, wondering why he hadn't stopped after making the elephants.

A few minutes later God saw the kids having an apple break and was angry.

"Didn't I tell you not to eat that fruit?" the 'First Parent' asked.

"Uh huh," Adam replied.

"Then why did you?"

"I dunno," Eve answered.

"She started it!" Adam said.

"Did not!"

"DID so!"

"DID NOT!"

Having had it with the two of them, God's punishment was that Adam and Eve should have children of their own...thus the pattern was set, and it has never changed.

~~~~~

I've often wondered if our Creator is still kicking himself for including that 'free will' clause when he was doing the R&D on molding man into existence. Even He has to be surprised at just how far that little piece of celestial legislation has allowed man to go. In light of how His whole human race thing developed, can we, as parents of brain-deficient teenagers expect to have any more control of our progeny? (Go watch that video; it is very enlightening. Go ahead - I'm not going anywhere until you get back.)

Welcome back. You should now feel much better about your relationship with your teenager since you know that part of his (or her) behavior is hard-unwired at this point in his development. See what I mean about not stressing over it so much? To me, stress is just failure in action. If we have succeeded in fixing a problem, we don't stress over it, do we? (Now I'm sitting here trying to figure out if I'm the kettle or the pot in this stress mess!) So how about if we take a look at some things that we CAN do to try and steer our kids down a safe(r) path in life.

There are the obvious things like setting a good example in your home and in your relationships with those outside your home. Kindness, consideration, patience, and consistency are all important. More important is letting your kids see you being human the right way. That means that if you screw up, you acknowledge it and apologize for it. AND FIX IT if at all possible. They have to know that you aren't going to come down on them for screwing up as long as they handle it correctly. They have to know that above all else, you love them and will fight to the death for their future success. And for those of you who are patting yourselves on the back for sticking up for your kid, right or wrong, STOP IT! That kind of thinking gets them into more trouble than holding them accountable for wrongs and rewarding only the things they do right.

How does that have anything to do with Sex Ed? Think about it: if Mary can't come tell you that she broke a dish or felt like hitting some smart-mouthed beyoch today, what makes you think that she's gonna tell you that she's thinking about sleeping with some knuckle-dragger?

Another thing that seems to work well is to take the mystery and misery (and a little of the excited anticipation) out of sexual issues by talking very plainly, clinically, and age-appropriately about them. Forbidden fruit is always more attractive than the mundane bowl of goodies within arms reach. If a question is asked, do your best to answer ONLY what was asked. Too much information will make the kid afraid to ask more questions. Too little will leave her wondering what you are hiding. They are smart that way. Dang it!

And for pity sake DO NOT overreact when Freddie comes home at age 5 and asks you why his wee wee (he should be calling it a penis at this age, by the way!) isn't as big as Billy's. Or why his best friend, Annie, doesn't have one at all. Know that kids have been playing doctor ever since Adam and Eve first examined each other after their apple snack. How you react to their first forays into that venue will determine how much you know about their travels in the future. For all the things the little darlings can't remember from moment to moment, they will remember that first reaction for the rest of their lives if you bumble it.

So, the bottom line to all of this is that sex ed doesn't begin when your child enters puberty. I starts when they enter the world. Making them feel safe, loved, secure, and valued is the best defense you can give them against having some insecure over-sexed ball of hormones make them feel safe, loved, secure, and valued if only for the one moment it takes to rush head first over a cliff that will leave their souls and bodies bruised and battered for the rest of their lives.

And if the worst does happen, take a deep breath, say a prayer, and hug your kid. He needs you now more than he will ever know until he has kids of his own and is trying to figure out how to keep them from going where he went. It's the circle of life, folks. We all survived it. So will they.

Peace, Blessings, and The RIGHT Kind of Love to all.

Damama's Use it or Lose it Advice on: Sex Ed

2009-01-07T21:09:00.000-06:00

PARENTAL WARNING! THE ATTACHED FILMSTRIP WILL RAISE QUESTIONS YOU MAY NOT BE READY TO ANSWER WITH YOUR KIDS YET. DO NOT WATCH WITH THEM PRESENT.

Today the local talk radio people were all going on about the fact that apparently Texas is winning the race to have the most pregnant teens in the country. I didn't hear the whole story on whatever it was that sparked all the chatter, but I was quite amused and extremely appalled at some of the comments made by the parents who called in. The one that bothered me the most was a man who said his daughter knew that if she ever showed up pregnant he'd disown her. Literally. No joke. Makes me wonder what other all or nothing conditions he puts on his love. What a way for his children to live.

I was most greatly amused by the people who truly believe that simply having their kids' butts in the church pew every time the doors are open will keep them from engaging in premarital relations. Oh don't we all wish it was that easy!?! This reminded me of my very ~~precocious~~ devout days as a youth member of one particular local Baptist church...

Betsy*, Tom*, Bill*, and I met when we were all chosen to be members of one of the first Christian youth rock bands in Texas. You have to remember that in the 70s the idea of having drums and guitars in church was a pretty radical concept -- especially so in our small-town, staunch Southern Baptist church! Our progressive Youth Leader, however, was a visionary and talked Reverend NutJob into allowing him to give it a try in an effort to get more kids interested in coming to church. We were actually pretty good and soon began receiving invitations to perform at other churches in the area. We were even invited to perform at a church in Dallas which meant an overnight trip. And that was the beginning of the end of our musical careers.

As you can imagine, since we spent so much time together we inevitably formed very close bonds and eventually paired off: Betsy and Tom; Bill and me. (The rest of the band members were all really weird guys, several of whom actually went on to professional music careers!) The only problem was that Betsy was Rev NJ's only daughter. Rev NJ was very protective of his flock. He was OBSESSIVELY protective of Betsy who was forbidden to date until she was at least 18. Her 15-year-old hormones had other plans, though, so we spent a good deal of time figuing out ways to get around the no-dating rule. We would have been in good shape if it hadn't been for that dang Dallas trip. The trip on which Miss Betsy lost her virginity. And her freaking mind!

Before the Dallas trip Betsy and Tom had been able to keep their relationship under wraps. They sat together during services, but always with a respectable distance between them; only holding pinkies with their hands down on the hardwood pew safely out of Daddy's sight. Afterward, they were like two lovesick octopuses: all arms and suckers. You couldn't slide a piece of paper between them with a battering ram! Their new postures did not go unnoticed by the Rev. (or anybody else with half an eyeball in their head!)

Always willing to give his baby girl the benefit of the doubt, he accepted her assurances that they were only friends. He did, however, warn her that fornication is a sin that would cause her to burn in hell with evilist of evil-doers. The warnings fell on deaf ears, because poor Betsy, though she tried as hard as she could, any time Tom was within reach she couldn't help but latch on and melt all over him. As the strong spritual leader he was, her father began to find clever ways of working morality messages into every sermon.

... "And the Lord gave us the trees and the flowers. He gave us the beasts of the field, the birds of the skies, and the bees of the garden. And it was all beautiful until we ruined it with

FORRRRRNIIIICATION!"

Didn't matter what the topic was, that man could figure out how to segway into FORRRNIIIICATION. After a while we realized that his segways always coincided with Tom touching Betsy and a whole new game was born: How many times can we get Rev NJ to scream FORRRNIIIICATION during the sermon. If memory serves me right, the record was 8.

Within 3 months of the Dallas trip our little group was disbanded (ha! punny!). Betsy was sent to a "private boarding school" where it was rumored that her healthy baby boy was adopted by a wealthy family from somewhere up in North Texas. The whole experience turned me totally off of church. It would be years before I would agree to try it again.

From all of that I learned that first and foremost, as a parent you cannot stick your head in the sand about what your kids can and will do if they decide they want to. You cannot make arbitrary, unbendable rules and expect your child to just follow them without question. You have to be open to hearing things you might not want to know; doing things you might not want to do. But above all, you have to keep your sense of humor. We all survived our teenage years. Our kids will, too.

I ran across this Sex Education film strip. Too bad Reverend Nut Job's not still around. Think of all the great sermon fodder he'd have to use to warn us all about the evils of FORRRRRNIIIICATION!"

WOCKA! WOCKA!

2008-12-29T16:30:00.001-06:00

WOOHOO! I just noticed that sometime recently I topped 10,000 visits from people who may or may not think that I'm totally insane. Heck, half the time I'm not even sure, so I went searching for a scientific process by which to determine my level of mental stability. And this is what I found.

The Muppet Personality Test

"Wocka! Wocka!"
You're the life of the party, and you love making people crack up.
If only your routine didn't always bomb!
You may find more groans than laughs, but always keep the jokes coming.

You Are Fozzie Bear

Scares the fuzz right off my backside to think how accurate this test is. Ain't scientific research providin' some amazin' modern advancements!

Peace, Blessings, Thanks for stopping by, and WOCKA! WOCKA!

Norton Security Rant

2008-12-26T16:57:00.003-06:00

Dear Norton:

The Norton Security Online provided by AT&T/Yahoo SUCKS! Yes, I said it. IT. SUCKS. Why would you foist a program like this off on people who trust your name? Does the fact that it came "free" with my AT&T U-verse package make it less important for it to actually catch people trying to attack my computer? Don't argue with me. It does NOT stop hardly anybody from dropping whatever nasty cookies they want to onto my system! Oh, I understand that people will try, but YOU are not supposed to let them! And if they do sneak by you, you are supposed to catch it when you automatically run that stupid scan of yours which is scheduled weekly right during my peak blogging time and slows down my system to a snail's pace and won't let me exit out of it without asking 9000 times if I am sure I want to cancel it and won't tell me how to reschedule it to some other more convenient running time!

Furthermore, why is it that every time the dang thing does finish running in only finds one cookie. JUST ONE. And the SAME just one every time! Every. Dang. Time. Same. One. Yet, when I run Ad-Aware it finds hundreds of cookies.. HUNDREDS!!! Ad-Aware kindly removes them for me and my system speeds back up to something similar to what I consider normal. Then a few days later when it slows back down again I have to run Ad-Aware again and... THEY'RE BAAACK! WHAT THE...?? WHY?? What good are you, Norton?? Tell me? What good at all????

So, I am officially notifying you that I'm switching back to McAfee. I NEVER had these problems with McAfee. It is quiet, cooperative, efficient and I can chat with a live support person anytime I need help. But most of all IT ACTUALLY KEEPS PEOPLE OUT OF MY BUSINESS!

Free, shcmee - I'll pay for something that actually works, thankyouverymuch! Yeah, that's right - thanks for nothing!

Your Soon-to-be EX-Non-Customer.

Hurry Christmas! Don't be Late!

2008-12-24T20:02:00.006-06:00

The tree is decorated and all the presents are wrapped:

The food has been cooked by the most manly man I've ever known. It takes a real man to choose to do what he loves doing without worrying about what anybody else thinks. And this one does it with some serious style. See that black shirt? So far tonight he's cooked 2 pies, pumpkin and pecan, made cocktail meatballs, chocolate chip cookies, and is now making a cake. All in a black shirt. And he hasn't gotten ONE SPECK of flower on that black shirt! THAT, my friends, is true macho!

And the stockings are all hung by the chimney with care:

All that's left to do is try to go to sleep. Try not to toss and turn knowing that Bug and Twig won't be home. Again. And then there are all of the other kids that I miss so much all year long, but especially this time of year. This thing of having grownups for kids sucks. I guess I'd be OK if I didn't still put their stockings out every year. But, as you can see from the picture, I put out all of the stockings for all of my kids every year whether they will be home or not.

I've had the song "Where are you Christmas" banging around in my head for the last several days. All I could hear of it was the first part over and over again... "Where are you Christmas? Why can't I find you?..." Then today, after a good cry and after finally watching this video, it dawned on me that I was missing the whole point of the song.

The point is SNAP OUT OF IT, WOMAN!

I am so awesomely blessed. I have a husband, who loves me unconditionally. A daughter who, though often the epitome of teenage pain-in-the-buttishness, does love me in her own way. I have two wonderful sons and a ton of other 'kids' and friends, all of whom chose to love me -- often inspite of myself! If that's not the definition of having Christmas all year, I don't know what ever could be.

So, to all of you who also struggle during this time each year, getting stuck in the what ifs and should have beens of your life; waiting for Christmas to find you, it is time to stop waiting for it to come to you and start looking around at your blessings. I bet that you find it with you all year, too.

Peace, Blessings, and a Very Merry Christmas to all.

Unconscious Mutterings or Can she get any stranger??

2008-12-21T20:35:00.011-06:00

Luna Nina hosts a weekly feature called Unconscious Mutterings. I've seen it before, but have never actually jumped in. This week, I thought.. what the heck! I'm mostly unconscious half the time and my family is so accustomed to my mutterings that they just ignore me anymore. I might as well bug the blogverse with it for a change and give the folks at home a bit of a break.

So, here goes (I haven't read anyone else's so these are all straight off the top of my head!):

Luna Week 308 - Damama Week 1

Luna says ... and I think ... ?

Carpet :: Cleaner (Yep, Hubby got on another cleaning tear today and we had our monthly house call by the rug doctor!)

Bottoms :: Up! (Back in the 70s here in Houston there was a dinner theater production of a show called this. Does anyone else remember it?)

Music :: man (I guess I'm on a musical theme kick now!)

Nails :: Need fixing! (OH, Santa! How about a gift certificate for a mani/pedi? Just not to THIS place cuz I no liiike!)

Watch it! :: Tinkbug! (This has become a part of our regular vocabulary ever since my friend's son started saying it when he was 2. Of course it was more like, "OOO bear auchit tinkbug!")

Your life :: Today, peaceful. Tomorrow??

Candies :: GODIVA (Mine that my daughter ate almost all of! She very kindly left me the dark chocolate and white chocolate ones (not bad), but those milky chocolate melt in your mouth small bites of heaven? G.O.N.E. All gone! GRRRR!! I guess we could call it just reward for THIS. NAH!! Not even close!)

Chafing :: A booby issue (Don't laugh! If you have big'uns you understand. If you don't, count yourself lucky!)

Svelte :: Patrick Swayze - He will be the first actor over whom I will actually cry when he passes. This clip of One Last Dance is long but so beautiful! Given his recent diagnosis, it has so much more meaning than just that in the movie. I cannot watch it without crying.

Ding :: aling Oh quit rolling your eyes... This is not a self evaluation of my mental state - although it very well could be! Nor is it a reference to anything anatomical. I'm thinking about a Chuck Berry song, for pete sake! And if you are thinking about anything but cute little bells on a string then YOU need to be psychoanalyzed! HA!

So, did you survive your little tour of my meandering mental roads? Scary place, ain't it!

Until next time, I bid you..

Peace, Blessings, and HAPPY DINGALINGS FOR ALL!

Show Your Christmas Crazy!

2008-12-20T00:23:00.002-06:00

Burghbaby calls it Christmasification. We just call it...

A WHOLE LOTTA FUN GOIN' ON OVER HERE!

Click on the pictures for a bigger view or to see more in my Photobucket

View from across the street

=================

11' tall Snowman with 11' long tugboat

================

Hubby says, "HI! Hope you enjoy the show!"

=================

Close-up of the ferris wheel and the new poles. Ignore that bucket. What bucket? There's no ugly bucket sitting in the middle of my picture!

===================

See-Saw

=================

The ice cube snowman and the rocking horse.

========================

There's a snow storm going on in that tummy and the 3' Santa and Frosty are having a ball!

In addition to all this light magic, there is Christmas music ~~blaring incessantly~~ playing nightly in order to ~~drive me up a freaking wall because it is right outside my office window~~ enhance the experience that is

Hubby's Annual Christmas Yard Extravaganza.

========================

Dear Santa - Please bring me a nice camera that will take good pictures at night so that next year I won't look lame by having to post daytime pictures thus losing the awesome effect of all this hard work! Thanks!

========================

For more Christmas Crazy you can pop over to:

Magneto Bold Too!

BurghBaby

Weekly Writing Assignment: Best Christmas Gift. EVER

2008-12-19T08:47:00.010-06:00

Writer's Workshop

This is my third workshop entry. I'm a bit late this week, but at least I'm here! You've read several of the sadder experiences of The Little Girl, so today I thought I'd share a happy story of love and God's ability to surprise us with amazing gifts.

4.) What's the best gift you've ever gotten/given.

Since I've already told you about the best Christmas present I ever got as an adult in Meet the Kids: Daughter’s Broken Road Home, and I learned that cheating by pulling something from the archives is not a rewarding experience, I'm going to tell you about the best Christmas present a child could receive. Ever:

The little girl sat gazing in awe at the huge, beautiful Christmas tree that had somehow miraculously just appeared overnight in the family room of The House. It was so different from the tree at the foster home. That one had been thin and sort of shabby with lots of handmade decorations. This one was perfectly shaped, just like the ones in magazines, and it was decorated in all red and white with a bright, shining star on the top. Beneath it were beautifully wrapped presents of all shapes and sizes. Mrs. Ethel, the housekeeper and cook, had warned her not to be messing with them, but she was still tempted. She could see the name tags on the ones in the front and not a one of them was hers! She knew that disobeying would make Mrs. Ethel sad, though, so she quickly shoved her small hands under her legs to keep them from getting into what they shouldn't.

Several days that seemed like an eternity later, Christmas morning finally arrived. The rules at The House were different than at the foster home, so there was no tearing into the family room in a mad dash to find one's presents. Instead breakfast had to be finished and morning chores done, just like every day, before the presents could be opened. This was a working ranch, and the cows didn't now or care that it was Christmas; they only new it was painful not to be milked on time. It was one sad little girl who trudged solemnly past the family room, out to the hen house to gather eggs for breakfast at 4:30 a.m.

Three hours later, cows milked, eggs gathered, animals and girls fed, it was finally time to gather in the family room to receive presents. The girls had been told to dress in their Sunday best because a group of ladies from a local church were coming to join in the morning's festivities. The little girl was thrilled because that meant more presents. So lost in her fantasies about what awaited, she lost track of time and was the last one into the family room.

Trying to avoid the House Mother's questioning eye, the little girl crept quietly over to the empty piano bench that one of the older girls had thoughtfully saved for her. Sometimes it was really neat being the youngest girl there. Sometimes. The House Mother introduced the ladies and explained how the opening of the presents would be accomplished and then began passing them out. The little girl was thrilled when she received the first present of the day, given by the red-haired church lady with the beautiful eyes and a kind, sweet smile. Everyone waited while she opened her gift. Socks and underwear.

Socks and underwear?? The little girl opened her mouth to ask where the toys were, but the House Mother, quickly stepped in, picked up the panties and showed the rest of the girls the pretty pink lacy ruffles that were sewn in stripes across the back. Stripes that perfectly matched the lacy pink ruffles on the socks. She then told the little girl to say thank you to the nice lady for such lovely gifts. Grudgingly, the little girl smiled and, choking back tears, said thank you. The rest of the gifts were similar necessities that had been donated by various groups. No toys. No stuffed animals. No fun.

When the last girl had opened the last gift, the ladies said their goodbyes and left 12 very subdued young ladies quietly cleaning up the family room. The red-haired lady caught the little girl's eye and waved sadly as she disappeared out the front door.

Life on the the ranch quickly returned to normal. Each day started and ended the same, so weeks turned into months and months into years without much notice. About the only time anything really different happened for the little girl was when her caseworker, Mrs. W, visited. The bright, enthusiastic woman always brought a little something for her; usually a new coloring book or some hair brads. In September of her second year at the ranch Mrs. W brought good news: she had found a couple who wanted to meet the little girl. Mrs. W said that they had been trying to adopt a little boy, but that had fallen through, so she'd told them about the little girl and Mr. & Mrs. L had agreed to meet her. The little girl didn't allow herself to get too excited. They wanted a boy and she was just a cheap substitute. But it was something different to do, so she agreed to go meet the couple. It turned out to be a good decision.

The first visit went so well that the couple invited her back to stay over a weekend, and the little girl, though still leary about putting too much faith in them, agreed to give it a try. Mrs. W assured her that if things were not comfortable she would come and take her back to the ranch. The weekend flew by so quickly that the little girl never gave a thought one to the ranch until it was time to pack up and head back.

Not wanting to send her back with dirty clothes, Mrs. L was gathering up her laundry when she stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the underwear and socks in her hand.

"Where did you get these?" she asked the little girl.

"They were a Christmas present a couple of years go. They were too big when I got them but now they fit me." The little girl, busy gathering up her belongings, looked up when she heard the woman catch her breath. Mrs. L had tears in her eyes.

"Do you remember who gave you these?" She asked softly.

It was then that the little girl recognized the red-haired church lady with the beautiful eyes and a kind, sweet smile. "It was you! You gave me my first present at the ranch!" said the little girl in amazement.

And that is how God used some socks and underwear to make a family. If the little girl had been given toys they would most likely have been left behind when she came to visit the couple. Had the socks and underwear fit when she'd received them, she would have long since outgrown them. Two and a half years is a long time in a little girl's life, so there would have been nothing to there to jog the memory of that Christmas long ago.

From that moment on, the little girl new that this woman was supposed to be her mother. Gone were the fears of never again belonging. God had made sure she knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that He had personally picked out her new parents. And she never got socks and underwear for Christmas again.

A Very Handy Tale

2008-12-14T22:17:00.006-06:00

This time of year I really miss working in one particular office. They had absolutely the best cooks of any place I’d ever worked before or have worked since. The people there made those usually marginally bearable holiday and special occasion potluck lunches downright delectable!

When I first started working there, one lady and I always ended up in the bathroom at the same time. Once I even laughed and commented that our bladders must have been on the same schedule. She just smiled.

After a few months we’d become fairly good friends. I’d also noticed that each time we had a new female employee she was followed to the bathroom by my friend. It dawned on me that she must have also been following me in those early days! One day while we were at lunch I finally got up the courage to ask her about this particular idiosyncrasy. (I wasn’t nearly as brave back then as I am now – I actually had to work up the nerve to speak my mind!) Here’s what she said:

“You know all those potluck dinners we have around here? I follow them to make sure they wash their hands because if they don’t, I’M NOT EATING THEIR FOOD!”

Until then, I hadn’t really thought much about it. Since then, every time I eat somebody else’s food I always wonder about that hand washing thing. And if you know any of thes folks, I'd be doubly cautious!

And on that fine note, I bid you Peace, Blessings and Clean hands preparing all your feasts.

Weekly Writing Assignment: Worst Dentist Ever

2008-12-10T22:43:00.007-06:00

Writer's Workshop

This is my second entry for this weekly bit of fun. Well, technically it's only my first since last week I cheated and pulled something out of the archives. And, I might add, was severely punished for my indiscretion by having nobody go read it! LOL! Lesson learned: NO CHEATING!

This Week's Prompt: 2.) Worst dentist experience ever.

The little girl sat in the sat in the waiting room with pale blue walls, white trim, and blue and white furniture, staring wistfully at the huge aquarium, thinking that the room should be inside it with all the fish swimming around the lamps and through the chair legs. She was so engrossed in her fantasy that the House Mother had to call her twice when the nurse said it was time to go back to see the dentist. Slowly she uncurled herself from the comfy chair and walked stiffly toward the open door. The big girls at The House had told her all about dentists and she was more than a little apprehensive about what awaited on the other side. However, she would never let them know that she was afraid. She’d learned at a young age that fear is something that can be used to hurt you and she would never let anyone have that power over her again. The pretty nurse in the white dress smiled as she reached to take the little girl’s hand, but taking it would show weakness so the little girl simply stiffened more and walked past her into the brightly lit hall.

What was that funny smell, she wondered as she followed the nurse into the second room on the right. It was something she’d never smelled before, but it wasn’t really unpleasant. The nurse helped her into a big black chair with padded arms and a foot rest that her feet couldn’t reach. Then the nurse put a bib around her neck. The little girl thought it was strange that the nurse assumed she was such a baby that she would drool on her clothes, but she didn’t want to hurt the nice lady’s feelings by refusing to cooperate. After a few minutes, the old dentist came in and sat on a stool by the chair. He talked sweetly about what he was going to do, explaining that it was important for him to check each one of her teeth to be sure they were healthy. She thought that it didn’t sound so bad; not at all like the big girls had said it would be. The dentist showed her his tool that looked a lot like a long, skinny ice pick with a curve at the end. He said it was to help him count her teeth and asked her to open wide so he could begin.

One, two, three, four, she silently counted with him as he touched each tooth. Five, six, sev....OUCH! The little girl jumped and squealed loudly, startling the poor nurse so much that she nearly dropped the tray she was holding for the dentist. He, however, just sat waiting patiently for her to calm down enough so they could start again. The little girl quickly re-gathered her courage and opened her mouth. Eight, nine, teeeeeennnnn. This time the pain didn’t catch her so off guard and she was able to just whimper softly and squirm some instead of screaming in pain like she wanted to. And the dentist continued to count; glancing knowingly at the nurse each time the little girl squirmed and whimpered, the tears streaking down her small face. All in all, he found six teeth that were not very healthy at all.

The dentist patted the little girl gently on the arm and asked the nurse to go and bring in the House Mother. The little girl heard him ask the woman how a seven-year-old’s mouth could be in such bad shape. The House Mother explained that she’d only lived at the orphanage for a few weeks and before that had basically been raising herself. It was a wonder that all of her teeth weren’t rotted out of her head. The dentist told the woman that three had to be filled, one needed a crown, and two baby teeth could be pulled because the adult teeth were coming in under them. The little girl tried to listen as best as she could, but couldn’t hear much after that because they lowered their voices to just above a whisper.

After a few minutes, the dentist and the House Mother came back into the room and began explaining what was wrong with the little girl’s teeth. The kind dentist showed her a picture of teeth with fillings and explained how they would protect her baby teeth until the adult teeth were ready to grow in. She asked if it would hurt like the counting did and he assured her that he would make sure that it didn’t hurt at all. She also wanted to know if they fixed her teeth would that make her mouth stop hurting when she drank cold things. His assurance that it would indeed stop that hurt was all she needed to be excited about having the work done. He wanted to know if she was up to doing the first part today. She smiled brightly and said she sure was. That bright smile lasted about 3 seconds.

The dentist nodded to the nurse, held out his hand, and received what the little girl thought was the biggest needle she had ever seen in her whole life. He turned back to her and asked her to again open her mouth wide. Suddenly she remembered her first visit to the doctor when she came to the orphanage a few weeks before. They’d given her shots in her arm and hip with needles that were tiny by comparison, and those tiny needles had hurt like crazy. There was NO WAY she was going to let them stick that big sucker in her mouth! She immediately pulled her knees up to her chin and buried her face in the arms she’d wrapped firmly around them. No amount of coaxing could get her to lift her head until they promised to put the needle away. Reluctantly, the kind dentist handed it back to the nurse and sat patiently waiting for the little girl to look up.

“Honey,” he said, “we have to work on your teeth so they don’t hurt you anymore.”

“Ok, you can work on them,” said the little girl, “but I don’t want a shot.”

“The shot is to keep it from hurting like it did when we were counting,” said the kind man.

“It didn’t hurt that much,” lied the little girl. “I don’t want a shot. Just fix my teeth without the needle.”

The gentle dentist shook his head and said that she didn’t understand how painful the drilling would be without any numbing medicine, but the little girl stood firm on the fact that she was not going to allow him into her mouth with the huge needle. Finally, after a very long time, the dentist and the House Mother stepped back outside and she heard the House Mother tell him to just do what he needed to do. And he did. But only to one tooth.

All through the procedure, the little girl sat quietly, eyes squeezed tightly shut, tears streaming down her cheeks; her knuckles white from gripping the arms of the chair so tightly. Twice, the dentist asked her again if she would please take the shot, but she still refused. To back down now would show too much fear, and that just was not going to happen. Finally, after what seemed like a million hours it was done and the little girl slowly opened her eyes. Beside her, with his head in his hands, the kind dentist sat sobbing quietly. Across the room, the nurse and the House Mother stood arm-in-arm; the House mother with a wad of tear-filled tissues clutched to her mouth; the nurse openly sobbing as she dabbed at her eyes. Seeing the pain in all their faces was nearly too much for the little girl. She hated being the reason they were crying. Very softly, she reached up and touched the dentist’s face and said, “Please don’t cry. I promise that next time I will take the shot.” She looked toward the two women, “Oh, please, please don’t cry anymore.” Moving in unison, all three adults pulled the little girl into a group hug. It was the first time in her life that she realized how her own actions could have very strong effects on others, causing them pain.

It was a lesson she would never forget.

Make me over. PLEASE!

2008-12-09T23:33:00.001-06:00

Do you ever watch Lifetime? You know, the cable TV channel? I don't usually spend much time watching TV unless it is something I've recorded so I don't have to sit through commercials. The other day I was watching a movie I'd DVR'd and had to pause my fast-forward to answer the phone. When I was ready to get back to my movie, I was intrigued by the commercial it had stopped on. Seems that if you go to Lifetime's website you can make yourself over with their Total Beauty Makeover tool. You can either play with their models or, fun of all funs, upload your own photo and futz around with yourself! It is so much fun to play with that I got sucked in for almost 3 hours. New hair, new makeup, new me! Well, old me with new do.

For quite a while now I've been toying with the idea of coloring my hair. FOR THE FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE! Believe it or not, the most I've ever done is add some highlights from time to time. Right now, it is totally natural -- gray and all. My naturally blond hair was a very solid YES answer to a prayer I sent up when I was a teenager. After watching so many of my blond friends' hair turn brown mousy or dishwater dirty I asked God to please let me have my Auntie's hair.

Like me, Auntie had blond hair all her life. As she got older, instead of going all dark, it stayed that beautiful childhood blond only changing with the growth of lovely silver highlights, slowly morphing into a beautiful, classic silver-white. My hair is doing the same thing. How do I know that it's a gift from God and not just genetics? I'm adopted, remember? So there's no blood connection to carry the trait. There's only a God connection to prove that even the smallest things are possible if we just ask. (Sorry, didn't mean to get all preachy, but this is one of those things that I feel pretty sure about and love for people to know so they can try it in their own lives. It is soooo cool when you realize that you just got blessed in a very tangible way. OK, back to the hair thing.)

So now you may be wondering why, if I have loved my hair all my life, am I thinking about changing the color. The simple answer is... I don't know. I just think it'd be fun to look a little different for a while. Not to mention that within the last two weeks I've had two people on different ends of the age spectrum comment on my lovely gray hair. IT'S NOT GRAY! IT'S BLOND WITH BEAUTIFUL SILVER HIGHLIGHTS. Of course, in my mind I'm still a 130 lb. hot model with smooth skin and an upper lip. Obviously my self image needs a makeover, too!

So here's the deal. I'm dropping in four photos. The first one is of me in October of this year, so it really is what I look like (dang it). I am so fair complected that I think I look all washed out and even older than my 52 years. The other three are the makeover shots. I want you to vote on which hair color you like best. With your help, at the end of the month I will decide how I want to start the new year. Leave me a comment and I'll tally them up in a post during the first week in January.

OK - Here goes ... (Note - the hideous eyeliner and fake lashes thing is NOT me! It was added by the program. I couldn't figure out how to get rid of it without screwing up the rest of the stuff!)

1. Just plain old me.

2. Strawberry Blond

3. Auburn Brown

4. Dark Brown

OK - now go vote. And send your friends over to vote, too. Believe me, I need all the input I can get.

(Edited to fix the size of those pictures! Much better! In the process, though, I noticed that the program removed my double chin! YAY! Why can't ALL photo editing programs do that. They have a button for red eye, why not add one for peach pudge?)

Peace, Blessings, and Lady Clairol calling!

Twittering my life away - Confessions of a texting junkie.

2008-12-05T19:02:00.007-06:00

Hello. My name is Damama T. And I am an addict. My drug of choice is Twitter. HUH? you ask? Is that some new Colombian Cartel import? I guess it could be. It is certainly as addictive as cocaine. But no, Twitter isn't actually a physical drug. It's more like a psychological drug. In case you have been living in the same dark hole in which I resided until a couple of months ago, according to their "About Us" page, Twitter is "a real-time short messaging service that works over multiple networks and devices". In short, it is text messaging on steroids.

I have had a cell phone since the 1995 ice storm that hit Houston so suddenly the city was frozen within a matter of hours. Hubby couldn't find me anywhere and was scared spitless that I'd frozen to death somewhere on the road between Houston and Needville. As soon as we thawed out, he bought me a cell phone and I have never since been without one. Until recently, however, they were merely communication devices. Now my phone has become a social and emotional lifeline. And recently I've realized that I have become one of the hated abusers.

We have all been subjected to rude people who talk during movies, yell to be heard because they cannot hear in restaurants and stores, and interrupt personal conversations to answer calls. I have reprimanded more than one of my employees for talking on his or her cell phone during work hours because it was impeding productivity. I have walked out of more than one store because the clerk was on a call instead of attending to my purchasing needs. I have fussed at my daughter for texting at the table and talking too loudly in the car. Never in all my born days did I think that I would join the ranks of those uncouth louts. But indeed, I have devolved into a thumb-flapping, socially inept nitwit.

I started Twittering during Hurricane Ike back in September as a way of maintaining communication through the storm. During the ensuing weeks of power outages, long gas lines, and no land-line telephone communications, the ability to quickly and easily get insider information on supply shipments and short gas lines was a Godsend. I kept telling myself that once the storm was over I'd go back to actually talking to people. Like all addicts, though, the more I got the more I wanted until today I find myself unable to resist the need to immediately read and respond to each one of the 50 or so tweets and/or texts I get each day.

It has gotten so bad that my husband has threatened to quit taking me out to dinner, my daughter hates riding in the car with me (oh yes - I even text while driving), and my exercise buddy has banned my cell phone from the racquetball court! I even asked my auto mechanic, who was trying to tell me what repairs were needed, to hold on a minute while I texted a quick tweet reply. AND I WAS PAYING HIM BY THE HOUR!

All of this leads me to wonder: If I, a 52-year-old, relatively sane and stable woman, can become so addicted in such a short period of time, how can we expect our children who have grown up with all this electronic gadgetry not to be reliant upon it? How do we put that genie back in the bottle? There are lots of easy cognitive answers but absolutely no easy curative actions. I don't know of anybody who is willing to go cold-turkey, do you?

I wonder how long it will be before some mental health hospital develops a gadget-withdrawal unit? When they finally do, I have a feeling that I will be one of their first patients. Now excuse me; gotta go get my tweet on!

Peace, Blessings, and GO GO GADGET!

This post was written in participation of Brad Shore’s Cell Phone Users and Abusers blog contest.

MALE SWIMMERS - Who knew??

2008-12-04T12:38:00.005-06:00

** Warning - this one may raise some questions you have an interesting time answering.**

Burghbaby Twittered that she needed a middle name for her new puppy today. She wanted one that starts with "J" and reflects his love of swimming. After immediately thinking of Jacques (as in Cousteau) I wondered what other famous male swimmers there might be with names beginning with J. So I entered a Yahoo search for "famous swimmers." The results looked promising:

I know that's kind of hard to read, but if you click the picture it will open the selection list for you. That very first entry says:

History, Famous Swimmers, Swimming Animals, Swimming Stars, Great Swimmers
Information on the history of swimming, famous swimmers from ocean swimmers through Olympians, and a look at a variety of swimming animals.swimming.about.com/od/swimhistoryandstars/... - Cached
Olympic Swimmers Bios and Profiles of Other Aquatic Stars

Cool! I'm thinking this is going to give me a great list of swimmers, and it did. However they were all mixed in together, male and female, and not really all swimmers. Some were polo players and coaches. I wanted just a list of famous male swimmers. Scanning the page I spotted the words "male swimmers" in the lower left-hand corner. Bingo! I'm thinking that ya gotta love About.com. They always come through! How shocked do you think I was when THIS is what they came through with??

Again, I know it's kind of hard to read so you can click the image to open the actual page. However, if you don't want to do that, for your reading convenience I've pasted the page's contents below. Who knew the words "male swimmers" were so rife with possible responses!

About.com: Swimmers
Swimming Offers > Male Swimmers
Sponsored Links
zSB(1)
Sponsored Links
Dirty Guy Parts?Clean Him Up With the Axe Detailer Shower Tool.www.Drugstore.com/Products
Size in 30 days or lessIncrease size, volume and endurance in 30 days or less. 110% Guaranteedwww.ErosLaboratories.com/Results
Older MaleFree to Join. 1000's of pictures & videos of Beautiful Senior Singleswww.SeniorPeopleMeet.com
Casual Male Official SiteSale & Clearance on Select Big & Tall Clothing. Shop Now Online!www.CasualMale.com
Featured on 60 MinutesCelebrity & Athlete Research View Industry Reports online NowEpollresearch.com
Male Genital Wart PictureMale Genital Wart Picture. Pictures, Treatments, and Info.HealthUnit.org
Gold Medal GreatsBook Gold Medalist for appearances, keynote speaking, and endorsementswww.GoldMedalGreats.com
SwimmersEverything to do with Swimmers items.Yahoo.com
Male Hormone ReplacementPrescribed HGH and Testosterone therapy for men over 35.AntiAgingGroup.com

Peace, Blessings, and Swimming success to all!

Writer's Workshop: Pet Chaos

2008-12-03T14:23:00.002-06:00

HI! If you came here looking for my first entry in Mama Kat's Writer Workshop, you will find the story of Snidley Whiplash HERE. (I cheated and pulled something out of the archives because I didn't have time to pull something new together this week.)

Here's where you can read more Writer's Workshop submissions...

Peace, Blessings, and No Writer's Block to all!

Port-O-Potty Fishing

2008-12-03T00:56:00.001-06:00

Heather's Great Port-a-Potty Adventure reminded me of something I hadn't thought of in years.

Twig was about 3 when Bug was playing T-ball. The local field had a plumbing problem that year and brought in P-O-Ps to... ummm.. relieve the problem. Half way through Bug's game, Twig HAAAAAAD to go NOOOOWWWW!!!! The smell hit us before we ever opened the door. I tried to talk him into just going behind the bushes, but NOOO.

Once inside I realized that the quarters were way too tight for me to be able to help him get his pants off and back on. The only easy way was to leave the door open. Twig, however, even at the tender age of 3, was a modest little guy and would have no part of pulling his pants down in front of the whole world. After a couple minutes of him screaming, "Noooo Mooommyyy!! Cwose it! Cwose it!" I gave up and squeezed in beside him.

We had just managed to get his britches off when he realized that this was no ordinary potty. When he saw the bottomless pit over which he was expected to dangle his exposed derriere he began grabbing at me like some wild baboon trying to keep from falling out of a tree. He was sure he was about to fall in and never get out again. It was about then that I heard the keys hit the hard plastic surface. All I had time for was a quick shriek before they slid over the edge and vanished into the murky depths of port-o-potty hell, taking my stomach with them. Hubby was out of town and that keyring held the only set of keys I had to both the house and the truck.
I immediately grabbed Twig, forgetting that his pants were still down around his ankles, and hightailed it, with a screaming child tucked under my arm, for the concession stand. The whole way there I kept praying that there was something I could use to fish out the keys. All they had was a wire coat hanger that, as it turned out, wasn't long enough to reach the bottom of the muck. One of the dads came up with a ball of twine out of his tool box. And thus was invented a new Saturday-evening-at-the-ball park event: Port-o-Potty fishing.

For the next 2 or so hours every man within a 1/2 mile radius had to try his hand at port-o-potty fishing. Each just knew that if you hooked your wrist this way, or held your mouth that way, or dragged the string the other way, that he could land his prey. We never did get the keys back, and you do NOT want to know what all else was hooked!

I'd love to be around a thousand years from now when some archaeologist happens on that particular ... er... dump sight and finds a set of keys to a 1985 Ford F150 embedded in the remains. I wonder what weird conclusions they'll draw about the eating habits of the human inhabitants of that region. If you don't think that's ever gonna happen, go check out this article. It may just make you take a little bit closer look at the funny looking rock you pull out of the ground the next time you are out gardening.

And, not to worry you or anything, but beware the next time you enter a portable public facility. You may get this surprise on the way out:

Love, Blessings and Port-o-Peace to you all.

The Turkey’s First Bird

2008-11-27T12:38:00.001-06:00

I've been trying to get around to writing something new all week. Not enough time, though, so I thought I'd pull this one out of the last year's mothballs. It is definitely funny enough to be re-run!

Now I'm off to enjoy a day of food, family and fun with the biggest turkey a girl could ever fall head over heals in love with. May you be blessed enough to have even half as much to be thankful for.

==============================

Hubby and I were married in April of 1981. By July I was pregnant with Twig. By September we had purchased our first home. That year we had an awesome Halloween party and were looking forward to our first holiday season.

Early in November, while Hubby was helping a friend drive to Minnesota and back, I went with my mom to see the Ice Capades. The last thing Hubby said before leaving was, “be careful on those steps at the event site.” Not wanting to worry my man or hurt my baby, I cautiously navigated the steps up to the doors of the arena and then further up to our seats. I even refused to drink anything while we were there for fear I might have to go back downstairs to pee!

When the show was over, Mom and I joined the rest of the throng exiting the building. There was so much excitement and everyone was chattering about the show – I didn’t see the steps until it was too late. Before I could catch myself, I’d missed the first step, lost my footing and landed on my butt on the hard concrete. Now, when I’m pregnant, I’M PREGNANT. Even though I was only about 4-1/2 months along I had already gained 38 lbs. and looked like I was concealing a small elephant under my shirt. So when I went down, everybody within a 5 foot circle stopped and tried to help. People were just kinder and more willing to get involved back then, weren’t they? But I digress… (Ever notice that the Squirrel and I both seem to have a habit of doing that?? Go figure!)

As a result of my fall, I almost lost the baby and had to be on bed rest for an extended period of time. And THAT’S how Hubby ended up having to cook our first Thanksgiving dinner. Now, he was already a fairly good cook when we got married, but he’d never done a turkey before. I’d already tried to explain how to prepare it for the oven, but once he actually had to do it, things got interesting.

He didn’t want me to go into the kitchen to help because of the needing to keep my feet elevated thing, so we were yelling back and forth across the house:

HUBBY: How long am I supposed to cook this thing?

ME: How big is it?

HUBBY: About the size of your belly (snicker, snicker, snicker)

ME (laughing): No, silly, how much does it weigh? {Thinking – you better be glad I’m not the stereotypical pregnant woman, or you’d be wearing that dang thing as a hat right now!}

Once that was settled, it was time for him to go about preparing the critter for the oven.

HUBBY: Didn’t you say there was something stuck inside it?

ME: Yes. They put the neck, gizzard, heart, and some other junk in a bag inside the turkey.

HUBBY: Well, there’s nothing in here.

ME: Did you look good?
HUBBY: Yes. There’s nothing in there.
ME: You reached all the way in and felt around and there’s nothing?
HUBBY: YES – If I get any friendlier with it, it’ll be pregnant, too!!

Grateful that 2-1/2 year old Bug had gone to the lake with my parents, thus avoiding any interesting questions about how being friends could get the turkey pregnant, I turned over to take a nap while Hubby finished dinner.

Several hours later, the smell of good food roused me from my slumber. And since I was getting bedsores from laying there so much, I decided to defy orders and go check out how things were going in the kitchen. Hubby had just pulled the bird out of the oven and was in the process of slicing it when – you guessed it – he hit paper. Of course it was MY fault! I hadn’t told him that the turkey had TWO holes that he should be looking in.

For months after that, any time either of us lost something, the other always had to ask, “You looked everywhere, but DID YOU CHECK BOTH HOLES??”

Wishing you empty holes, full bellies, and a VERY HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

A Cherokee Story - Two Wolves

2008-11-24T13:33:00.003-06:00

One of my very best friends in the world sent me this.

Two Wolves

One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people. He said, "My son, the battle is between 2 "wolves" inside us all.

One is Evil. It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

The other is Good. It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: "Which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one you feed."

My wonderful friend signed his note:

Bug
Lux et umbra vicissim, sed semper amor
- "Light and shadow by turns, but always love" –

It is unbelievably rewarding to have your children let you know that they GET IT when they grow up. It makes all that time wading through the sludge of the teen years more than worth the effort.

I love you, my Bug. Thank you for .... everything.

Peace, Blessings, and Always Love.

Philosopher Mom: Automotive Diva Award

2008-11-21T15:37:00.006-06:00

I just finished reading The Philosopher-Mom's post entitled, "In Which I Have to Jump-Start Not One but Two Cars. I am so impressed by her ability to do this that I felt compelled to give that woman an award. Couldn't find one, so I made this one up.

YOU GO KALYNNE! You give automotive ditzes like me hope.

If you know a woman who isn't afraid to pop the hood and dive in, please feel free to pass this along.

Peace, Blessings, and Pass the wrenchy thingy.

Sears: Doing the right thing gets my business!

2008-11-21T08:59:00.004-06:00

I plan on doing all of my Christmas shopping and as much of my future shopping as possible at Sears. I am doing this even though I traditionally H.A.T.E. Sear's customer service, or should I say their customer non-service. Here's why I'm just gonna put on my big girl panties and deal with it.

Note: I have also checked this out on Snopes and with Sears. IT IS ACCURATE.

==============================

How does Sears treat its employees who are called up for military duty?
By law, they are required to hold their jobs open and available, but nothing more. Usually, people take a big pay cut and lose benefits as a result of being called up.

Sears is voluntarily paying the difference in salaries and maintaining all benefits, including medical insurance and bonus programs, for all called up reservist employees for up to two years.

I submit that Sears is an exemplary corporate citizen and should be recognized for its contribution. I suggest we all shop at Sears, and be sure to find a manager to tell them why we are there so the company gets the positive reinforcement it well deserves.

Pass it on.

=========================

The supposed original sender of the email added this note:

Decided to check this before I sent it forward. So I sent the following e-mail to the Sears Customer Service Department:

I received this e-mail and I would like to know if it is true. If it is, the Internet may have just become one very good source of advertisement for your company. I know I would go out of my way to buy products from Sears instead of another store for a like item, even if it's cheaper at that store.

This is their answer to my e-mail:

Dear Customer:

Thank you for contacting Sears.The information is factual. We appreciate your positive feedback.

Sears regards service to our country as one of greatest sacrifices our young men and women can make. We are happy to do our part to lessen the burden they bear at this time.

Bill Thorn
Sears Customer Care
webcenter@sears.com1-800-349-4358

Please pass this on to all your friends. Sears needs to be recognized for this outstanding contribution and we need to show them as Americans, we do appreciate what they are doing for our military!!!

It's also verified by Snopes.com at:
http://www.snopes.com/politics/military/sears.asp

=========================

Peace, Blessings, and HAPPY SHOPPING!

SATURDAY GIGGLES: Employee of the Month

2008-11-15T15:20:00.003-06:00

Got this from my very cool friend, Jules, whom I miss like crazy.

=====================

EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH

A young guy from Wisconsin moves to Florida and goes to a big “everything-under-one-roof” department store looking for a job.

The Manager says, 'Do you have any sales experience?' The kid says 'Yeah. I was a salesman back in Wisconsin.' Well, the boss liked the kid and gave him the job. 'You start tomorrow.. I'll come down after we close and see how you did.'

His first day on the job was rough, but he got through it. After the store was locked up, the boss came down. 'How many customers bought something from you today?'

The kid says 'one'.

The boss says 'Just one? Our sales people average 20 to 30 customers a day. How much was the sale for?'

The kid says '$101,237.65'.

The boss says '$101,237.65? What the heck did you sell?'

The kid says, 'First, I sold him a small fish hook. Then I sold him a medium fishhook. Then I sold him a larger fishhook. Then I sold him a new fishing rod. Then I asked him where he was going fishin’ and he said down the coast, so I told him he was going to need a boat, so we went down to the boat department and I sold him a twin engine Chris Craft. Then he said he didn't think his Honda Civic would pull it, so I took him down to the automotive department and sold him that 4x4 Expedition.'

The boss said 'A guy came in here to buy a fish hook and you sold him a BOAT and a TRUCK?'

The kid said 'No, the guy came in here to buy Tampons for his wife, and I said, 'Dude, your weekend's shot, you should go fishing...

=========================

An angler is a man who spends rainy days sitting around on the muddy banks of rivers doing nothing because his wife won't let him do it at home. ~Author Unknown

Have a great weekend!

Happy Birthday to Meeeeee

2008-11-11T21:36:00.001-06:00

Yep. Today is my birthday. And it has been a really great day. What a total difference this year was from last year when I thought I'd been forgotten!

It started off at 12:00 A.M. with Hubby getting out of bed to come into the office and give me a hug and a kiss and deliver his rendition of 'Go Mama. It's your birthday. We gonna party like it's your birthday' (ala 50Cent) accompanied by a totally cute butt-waggy dance. He had me cracking up! And thanking God he doesn't own a speedo!

After he went back to bed, My Girl came out of her cave and gave me a beautiful card and this tealight candle holder from her and The Boyfriend.

It says, "Mothers are special and so kind... touching lives with tenderness, warmth, and love combined." I have seen these several times and always thought they were beautiful and secretly wished one of my kids would give me one. Yay for birthday wishes come true!

I was awakened this morning by a text message from my friend, Tanya, telling me happy birthday and offering to buy me breakfast.

Before Hubby left for work he gave me a wonderful card. As usual, it made me weepy. He always makes me feel like the most special person in the world, but on my birthday he finds cards that speak such love and faith that if they were all I got all year it would be (almost) enough. I am so blessed to have that man in my life.

For lunch, My Girl took me to Olive Garden where we had salad and shared a lucious piece of the heaven they call the Black Tie Mousse Cake. After lunch we spent a little time shopping. While we were at Kirkland's I admired this and she bought it for me!

Here's what it says up close:

Isn't that wonderful! I'd never heard that before. It so perfectly fits the way my life has gone that if she hadn't bought it for me I'd have done so for myself, but it wouldn't have meant nearly as much as having her spend her own hard-earned money just to put a big birthday smile on my face.

When we got home I had an email from Bug containing a gift certificate to Kiva which is a website where people can go to help out small businesses by lending them small amounts of money. It's called microfinance. Bug very thoughtfully gave me money to give to someone else. Isn't that the coolest thing! I just love that boy. He knows my heart so well.

Tonight, Hubby took me out to The Chart House at the Kemah Boardwalk. I am so glad Ike didn't blow it away! Otherwise I wouldn't have had lobster and key lime pie for my birthday dinner. Calories don't count on your birthday, do they?

Throughout the day I've received cards, emails, and text messages from all over the place. I even received a phone call from Lady T all the way from The Netherlands. Plus I just finished a call from Twig.

I must tell you, though, that the most welcome present I got all day long came from ME! I've spent most of the last month talking about turning 53 (or 40-13 as a friend of mine prefers to say). This morning I was thinking about how quickly the years have passed and how I don't FEEL 53 in my head when it dawned on me... I was born in 1956 which means I TURNED 52 TODAY NOT 53!! How much better can it get to gain a whole nother year to live. Now if I can just find the check-out girl at Wal-Mart who told me last week that I looked good for 53. I wonder if she'll think I look good for 52, too.

Peace, blessings, and may all your birthday wishes come true, too!

7 Things Meme or You can recycle, too.

2008-11-10T11:30:00.000-06:00

Brandi over at O.W. IN G.S. tagged me for a 7 Things Meme. Since I did one about my life's trivialities HERE and another eight HERE with its follow-up HERE, I thought I'd do something a little different. Then I saw Debbie Yost's post about FINALLY signing up for recycling services over at the Three Weddings headquarters, and had the bright idea of presenting:

7 THINGS FOR WHICH I FIND USEFUL REPURPOSES

1. Dry Cleaner Bags - These things are much stronger than one might assume. I tie a knot in the end the coat hanger sticks through, pull bag inside out with the knot on the inside, and use them for all sorts of things such as:

-- kitchen trash bags
-- sort dirty clothes - each bag holds exactly one load of laundy as long as I don't stuff them so full I can't easily grab a handful of wadded up bag with which to drag it to the laundry room (OK, so now you know that I wait until nobody in the house has anything left to wear before I do laundry. Sheesh! I always tell on myself!)
-- bag recyclables so the nice men can tell easily which bin to toss stuff into
-- wet clothes bags for the kids that come swim in the summer (I let some of the neighborhood kids use the pool sometimes. It is fun having some laughter in the yard again, plus they are less likely to mess with my Halloween and Christmas decorations if they like me!)
-- rebag potting soil
-- bag grass clippings and other green yard stuff so the nice men can tell which bag to grab when they roll by in the Green pickup truck
-- emergency rain jackets - Just widen the coat hanger hole and pulling it over your head. They squish down so small that you can keep 2 or 3 in a gallon zipper bag under the seat!
-- throw pillow stuffing - If you have enough of them in the casing they don't flatten out and they regain their shape almost immediately so no plumping! Plus, little kids love the soft crinkly sound they make. (Plastic shopping bags work, too, especially if you mix some in with the dry cleaning bags. Cut off the seams, though, or they make sticky lumps.)

2. Frozen Dinner trays, and plastic or Styrofoam take-out containers

-- drawer dividers - These come in so many sizes and shapes that I had fun puzzling them together to make drawer dividers throughout the house. Now I can open almost any drawer and find exactly what I'm looking for. (Just DO NOT open any closet in my house without shielding your head in case of an avalanche!)
-- plant trays - put your plant in one and it not only keeps all the water from running all over your tables, but it also helps keep the plant hydrated because it can soak back up excess water runoff caused by letting the soil dry out too much between waterings. (WHO? ME?? Noooo not meee. I would NEVER be so cruel to poor defenseless plants! Umm, excuse me while I go find a saw to cut off this horrible nose growth thing that just sprouted from my face!)

3. Pantyhose and/or Knee-highs

-- stretch easily around water faucet handles to clean the junk out from under and between them that my big fat fingers can't reach
-- stretch wonderfully between the bolts holding the toilet seat in place (Those of you with little boys know what a nasty job that can turn out to be!)
-- fill with potpourri and/or leftover melted candle wax (you know how good that stuff still smells sometimes!) and stick in the back of a drawer or closet, or under the seat of your car (In the summer either put it in one of the Styrofoam containers or just forget the wax for the car fresheners. Believe me, it makes a mess if you don't!)

4. Old pillows make great reinforcement for saggy couch cushions. Just unzip the cover, slide them in and smooth them out on top of the existing foam and re-zip 'em. (There are some other things I use these for, but it'd take too long to explain it here. I'll do a post on some of my other interesting uses of old pillows later.)

5. Medicine bottles - We have sooooooooooooo many of these things laying around that I have actually run out of stuff to use them for! In them, I've stored:

-- nails
-- straight pins
-- push pins
-- paper clips
-- change
-- extra Rolaids in each purse and every car (danged reflux!)
-- buttons
-- baby powder (Empty spice bottles also work great for this because they have the little plastic holy thing in the top. See how deftly I slid another thing in here. heh heh heh!)
-- mints & gum
-- toothpicks
-- eye drops (you know, the single use kind in plastic tubes with tops that come off if you sneeze in their direction, so they end up empty when you actually need one to put a contact back in!)
-- other stuff that I'm too brain dead right now to remember

NOTE: If you want some pill bottles to use for anything, please email me. PLEASE! I'm drowning in the dang things because they are not recyclable and nobody wants them. Hubby says to throw them away, but I JUST CAN'T! AACK! It's become my obsession to find new uses for them.

6. Coffee filters make great water retention wads in potted plants. If you have roses, you can even sometimes leave the grounds in them to give their buds a little boost. Just rinse them out, wad them up, and stuff them down in the dirt or save up some to use the next time you have to re-pot something.

7. Styrofoam sheets - I save a few of the ones that come as packing material so I will have them to:

-- easily display my jewelry - I glued ribbon around the edges and then used the extra to make a hanger. Now I can see all my earrings and necklaces at a glance.
-- make cheap and easy treatments for small windows. Fabric, straight pins, and a couple of nails sticking out of the wall are all you need to dress up a small window without having to spend a fortune. This is the valance in my laundry room. I wanted to dress it up, but had no desire to spend money to do it. I had this left over from another house but no rod, so I used a sheet of Styrofoam instead.

-- add height to items displayed on top of my kitchen cabinets because roaches LOVE 'em some cardboard but not Styrofoam. There are lips on top of all my cabinets that everything disappeared behind. A few blocks of Styrofoam saved the day!

-- decorate and use in my curio cabinet to raise the items in the back for easier viewing. (You can cover them or brush on paint, but I wouldn't use spray paint because it tends to melt them! And that stinks. Horribly!)

OK. That's it for now. I love to hear what creative things you do to recycle stuff around the house.

Peace, blessings and HAPPY RECYCLING!

URGENT PRAYER REQUEST FOR Keep Believing

2008-11-07T07:33:00.004-06:00

Angie's family is in need of prayers. Brian has Stage IV brain cancer and, unless God performs one of his miracles, may not live to see the new year. I have spent the last year being completely amazed by the love, strength, and courage of this family.

I am asking that you help those of us who are so touched by this family cover them in a world-wide blanket of love and prayer. Please take a moment to pop over to Keep Believing and let her know that you are joining the world in prayer for her family. Then take another moment to pass this request on to everyone you know. If you have a blog, please post this prayer request there.

This is not one of those "if you love Jesus" kind of requests. I have my beliefs and I honor yours, whatever they may be. I only ask that you pray to whatever higher power you believe in. No matter what religion or faith we espouse to, we all know that the god in which we believe can do miracles. And this family needs one. Now.

Note: If you would like to receive this post as an email that you can forward, email me and I'll send it to you. You can also click the little yellow envelope at the bottom of this post to open an email form and send it to yourself. However you need to do it, just DO IT NOW, please. This family has no time to waste.

Peace, Blessings and, as Angie always says, KEEP BELIEVING!

Word Verification Game

2008-11-06T05:52:00.001-06:00

Jillybean over at Thou Shalt Not Whine has come up with a really fun game you play with the word verification characters that some ~~mean people make you trudge through~~ bloggers have active. Some of the stuff her readers have come up with is great. Go check it out HERE and add your own if you get anything cool. Be sure to also check out one reader's definitiion of "paticapt," too! LOL!

Have a great Thursday.

Either way, it's all good...

2008-11-05T12:54:00.005-06:00

The there are those who say I was overly worried and wrong to think that people would act out. I prefer to believe that our prayers for peace last night and today have been answered. Either way, I'm good with it because the bottom line is that everything turned out alright.

The outcome was no huge surprise. I am actually thrilled that so many turned out to have their voice heard. And heard it was! Wow! Even though it didn't go the way I thought it should have, I respect the process even if I don't respect Obama. That, he has to earn through his actions, not just words.

Congratulations to all the winners of last night's race. May you go forward with pure hearts and end your journey with clean consciences. Now THAT would be change we could all get behind!

Peace, Blessings, and That's it for my political commentary. FOREVER. Maybe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And now for just a wee but of post-election fun. Hubby found this last night. I just HAD to share it. (If you haven't seen it before, be sure to watch all the way to the end!)

As Erma Bombeck says, “If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it.”

Somebody had entirely too much free time on their hands! LOL!

Choose Peace

2008-11-03T00:09:00.009-06:00

Carl Sandburg said:

Choose.
The single clenched fist lifted and ready,

Or the open hand held out and waiting.

Choose.

For we meet by one or the other

==================================

An now for what I have to say.

I fear our world will change dramatically on Tuesday. No matter who wins this election, there will be those who cry foul and express their disappointment violently. No matter how the losing candidate's camp pleads for calm and rationality, there will be those who choose riot and imprudence. The world we awake in on Wednesday morning may be a very scary place for a while.

I pray to God that this feeling in my gut is wrong; that our children will not have to suffer because of the stupidity of adults who cannot accept defeat graciously. Or worse, cannot accept victory graciously.

I pray that regardless of which side wins, we don't all become losers in the process.

I pray the winner's supporters accept victory with grace and calm.

I pray the loser's supporters bow out with dignity in diplomatic acceptance.

I pray that the change that so many are clamoring for is not heralded by menace and mayhem regardless of who brings that change.

I pray that each of you takes time to pass on a prayer for peace, whether it's this message or one of your own. No matter what higher power you believe in, now is the time to call on it for strength and wisdom for all. In the days to come, this country will need all the positive energy we can muster.

Peace, Love, and

Paying it Forward

2008-10-21T20:15:00.002-05:00

AZMom is participating in a pay it forward plan. I signed up and now I am paying it forward. Let the fun begin!

HERE ARE THE RULES: The exchange focuses on doing an act of kindness without expecting anything in return other than that the recipient will, in their turn, pass the kindness along and pay it forward in their own way.

This is how it works... I am going to agree to send something fun, inspiring or uplifting to the first 3 blog owners who post a comment on this entry (please leave your e-mail address if I don't all ready have it.) In turn, those three will post this information and pick 3 people they want to send something to and so on. If you are interested in participating, be one of the first 3 blog owners (or for me, commenters, even if you don't have a blog!) to leave a comment!

The little something you send can be something you made, bought, were given or found. No biggie, just a gift that will make the person smile. Maybe something unique from where you live? There are no cost restraints, but don't go crazy! If you'd like to join in, leave me a comment so I will know you are playing, too. And please promise that you will then post about this on your blog, link to me, and then send something to the first three people who sign up to play along through your blog. Remember that kindnesses don't have to involve money; there are untold ways to help others every single day, everywhere you go; just look around.

What a neat way to have fun and be blessed all at the same time! I look forward to seeing who all joins in the fun.

Teen driving revolutionized by Ford! (???)

2008-10-11T02:30:00.013-05:00

My Girl has finished her driver education course, but is really balking at taking the test to get her learner's permit. It is the strangest thing I've ever seen in a kid! To give her some credit, she and The Boyfriend were T-boned a couple of months ago, which scared her pretty bad. Thank God that's all it did! In a weird way, I'm sort of glad she's in no hurry. I'm not sure I'm ready to unleash her on the motoring public just yet!

Oh, what's that? I forgot to tell you there was a Boyfriend? Ummm.. sorry... Well, there is. And he's 22. And he's one of the best things that has ever happened to her so pick your jaw up off the ground and get over the fact that I am, indeed, allowing my 17-year-old daughter date a 22-year-old college senior. You'd just have to see them together to know how good they are for each other. Besides, that's not what this post is about. Yes, I promise more details in the near future, but for now, on with why I brought up this whole driving/wrecking thing to begin with...

It seems that Ford Motor Company thinks it has come up with the solution all parents have been clamoring for since the first time the first teenager put pedal to metal. They have devised a feature that will let parents set limits for teens. AN 80 MILE AN HOUR LIMIT! Go ahead, pop over there and read the article and then come back. It is short, but fascinating! (Note: if you right-click and select "Open in a new window" you won't lose this post to go read the article. And you know who you are that needs that advice to keep you from accidentally closing the windows and having to log back in because you are afraid to have the computer remember you for fear that someone might hack your computer and hijack your passwords.)

Welcome back!

Ok, so they've got a pretty valid reason for setting the upper limit at 80. I can see where once in a while one might have to accelerate up to 80 to get out of the way of a wreck. IF ONE WAS ALREADY GOING 70+ BEFORE THE INCIDENT HAPPENED!!! And they said that "Just lopping it off at exactly 70 mph was felt to be too limiting." TOO LIMITING???? I THOUGHT THAT LIMITING THEIR SPEED WAS THE WHOLE POINT?!?!?!?! GRRRRR! As far as I'm concerned, 60 is plenty fast enough for the first six months they are on the road alone. There are plenty of surface roads to get from here to anywhere without having to ever get on a freeway.

They go on to say that they are going to make "...use of technology, and through the magic of software, we're able to build features on top of the features we already have." COOL IDEA! Love that anti-theft thing, but how about asking mothers what that new build should look like. As a matter of fact, I won't wait for them to ask. Instead, I am sending the following suggestions in an email to their Public Affairs Department.

According to the article, "In addition to speed limits, MyKey also will limit the volume of the audio system, and it will sound a six-second chime every minute if seat belts are not fastened. The chime sounds for adult drivers, too, but ends after five minutes to avoid annoying adults who adamantly don't want to wear seat belts." (aka IDIOTS)

Really?? You can do all that with a smart key? WHOA NELLY! Then how about programming that sucker to:

-- Allow PARENTS to set the max speed for their child based on when and where they will be driving using a formula of maximum SAFE speed plus 10. (With a maximum of 65 for emergencies only.)

-- Send parents a text message EVERY TIME the speedometer climbs past the maximum safe speed. Better yet, include their GPS location in the message. Might as well know where they were breaking the rules while we are at it!

-- Allow NO radio or sound system of any kind if they go over their parentally-determined speed limit. Yep, that's right -- JUST CUT IT COMPLETELY OFF!

If keys can be smart, then why not seat belts?

-- Come up with weight/size based seat belt alarms. If the weight in the seat is X then it's going to take a minimum of Y amount of belt yardage to surround it. Just buckling it and putting it behind you would trigger the shutdown of the sound system until all seat belts were properly fastened around all those chubby little tummies. And speaking of 'all those' ...

-- How about some butt alarms that count how many kids are in the car. I know here in Texas young drivers are limited on the number of passengers they are allowed to carry. Why not send mom a text message when the butt count exceeds that limit? AND CUT OUT THE RADIO until the butt count is corrected.

And if the keys, belts, and seats can be smart, why not the antennae?

-- Let's go ahead and rig the car so that cell phones don't work from inside it as long as the engine is running. And for safety's sake and Mom's peace of mind, why not add a communication system (including a phone cam!)that can only call three or four parentally programmed numbers: 911, Mom, Dad, and one alternate. How else are you gonna keep them off the phones?

So what I am proposing is what I call:

DAMAMA’S TOTAL MUSICAL SOLUTION

-- If the speed isn't immediately reduced or the infraction isn't corrected, within 30 seconds, automatically kill the car’s audio system and activate external speakers that blare nursery rhymes like I'm a Little Teapot, It's a Small World, and If you're Happy and You Know It. Or how about some Okie From Muskogee? Better yet, how about THIS. heh heh heh!! How quickly do you think that car could decelerate to 60 or under?? How fast do you think that seatbelt would click or somebody's butt would be booted out the door? Probably not nearly fast enough for the totally humiliated kid in the driver's seat! Definitely not fast enough to keep us parents from going prematurely gray.

It takes 8,460 bolts to assemble an automobile, and one nut to scatter it all over the road. ~Author Unknown

The elderly don't drive that badly; they're just the only ones with time to do the speed limit. ~Jason Love

May all of our children live to be old and slow. Like they think we are.

Questions that haunt me...

2008-10-08T13:21:00.000-05:00

One of my really cool friends sent me this a while back. Can't remember who or exactly when because I deleted the email when I dropped it in here as a draft post. I ran across it again while trying to come up with something clever and amusing to write on my own. Ain't happenin! Hasn't happened for two blasted weeks! Sooo... Rather than not post anything I figured I'd pass on this old chestnut just in case you never thought about this stuff. Have a great day and I promise that as soon as my brain starts functioning again I will post something original.

Can you cry under water?

How important does a person have to be before they are considered assassinated instead of just murdered?

Why do you have to "put your two cents in".. but it's only a "penny for your thoughts"? Where's that extra penny going to?

Once you're in heaven, do you get stuck wearing the clothes you were buried in for eternity?

Why does a round pizza come in a square box?

What disease did cured ham actually have?

How is it that we put man on the moon before we figured out it would be a good idea to put wheels on luggage?

Why is it that people say they "slept like a baby" when babies wake up like every two hours?

If a deaf person has to go to court, is it still called a hearing?

Why are you in a movie, but you're on TV?

Why do people pay to go up tall buildings and then put money in binoculars to look at things on the ground?

Why do doctors leave the room while you change? They're going to see you naked anyway.

Why is "bra" singular and "panties" plural?

Why do toasters always have a setting that burns the toast to a horrible crisp, which no decent human being would eat?

If Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a stupid song about him?

Can a hearse carrying a corpse drive in the carpool lane ?

If the professor on Gilligan's Island can make a radio out of a coconut, why can't he fix a hole in a boat?

Why does Goofy stand erect while Pluto remains on all fours? They're both dogs!

If Wile E. Coyote had enough money to buy all that ACME crap, why didn't he just buy dinner?

If corn oil is made from corn, and vegetable oil is made from vegetables, what is baby oil made from?

If electricity comes from electrons, does morality come from morons?

Do the Alphabet song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star have the same tune?

Why did you just try singing the two songs above?

Why do they call it an asteroid when it's outside the hemisphere, but call it a hemorrhoid when it's in your butt?

Ike II - Lessons from a Storm

2008-09-21T16:46:00.023-05:00

Lesson 1. When you see an Emergency Services truck from California 3 days before a storm is going to make landfall, after puzzling over why it's there and taking a moment to snap a picture, PAY ATTENTION and get ready for something bad about to come down.

Lesson 2. Remember that if you are on the dirty side of the hurricane, 100+ MPI winds will be coming at you from the north. DO NOT OPEN THE NORTH-FACING FRONT DOOR THAT YOU DIDN'T THINK ANYTHING WOULD HIT BECAUSE IT WAS PROTECTED BY THE BRICK ENTRYWAY SO YOU DIDN'T PUT A BOARD UP TO FIND OUT WHAT THAT HORRIBLE ROARING NOISE IS AND WHY WATER IS LEAKING IN AROUND THE STAINED GLASS SEAMS. YOU WILL GET KNOCKED ON YOUR BUTT. You will then have to crawl against said strong winds in order to get it closed again before your house explodes from the pressure. (Wish I'd had my camera handy for that one!)

Lesson 3. Make friends with the guy on the corner so he doesn't think you are a looter when your dog gets loose and runs into his now unenclosed back yard.

Lesson 4. TRIM YOUR TREES! If a storm comes through you could very well get burried under an avalance of branches if you don't. That is a 2-story house, folks. The debris is literally piled up to just below the second story windows. No, thank God, this is not my home.

Lesson 5. DEEP-GROUND-WATER YOUR TREES SO THE ROOTS GROW D.O.W.N. If you don't, they will grow out to the sides looking for whatever surface moisture they can find. This leaves them with very shallow root systems that won't withstand strong winds. They make a special cool waterer thingy that allows you to do that. It looks like this. Not pimping that particular product, but wanted you to know where you could find what I'm talking about.

Lesson 6. Power lines are a LOT stronger that they look.

This pole snapped off in the middle, yet the lines are still holding the cross part.

This one is leaning at such an angle that I am amazed it hasn't fallen yet, but the lines are holding. Good thing for that building! That's a small parking lot.

Lesson 7. A clothes line doesn't have to be a "line" at all. A pole, a fence, a ladder, and some hangers work just fine. The clothes are scratchy and the towels are stiff, but they are clean, by jingies!! (You cannot click to enlarge this one because I have no desire to have my undies sprawled across your whole screen. And neither should you!)

So, that's pretty much it for now. I might have some more lessons to add before we get our power back on sometime later this week... hopefully sometime later this week... PLEASE GOD! SOMETIME LATER THIS WEEK!!!

Love to all and thanks for keeping tabs on me through all of this. Your emails and text messages have kept me going.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Ike...

2008-09-12T12:31:00.008-05:00

The expression on her face and the plaque just about cover what we are all feeling right now at our house.

We are staying. The wind and rain don't scare me. The possibility of rising water does. However, we are 55 miles north of Galveston in an area that was deemed voluntary evacuation only. Most of our neighbors are staying, also. Hopefully, by the time the water gets here we won't have more than a few inches in the house if any at all. What is really strange to me is that only about 6 houses in the whole 200+ subdivision have boarded up their windows. I didn't even see any with duct tape on them to keep them from totally shattering.

I've signed up on Twitter and (if I can friggin' figure out how - geesh I feel stupid!) will try to keep updating on my phone as often as possible if we lose power so I can't do it online.

Please keep us and the whole Gulf Coast region in your prayers. This is gonna get really ugly before it's over.

And if, God forbid, the worst should happen (no I'm not expecting it to or being morbid, just covering bases), shed a few tears if you must, but then go have a party and remember how much this crazy old woman loves life and all her kids. Especially the three that are mine and the one that should have been.

Peace, Blessings, and Dry too tootsies to all.

Important Notice from the DTD

2008-09-09T19:34:00.006-05:00

Contagious Neck Rash Identified by Dumbbutt Teenagers Department (DTD)

(Illustration only - not an actual picture of this particular outbreak)

Houston, Texas (September 9, 2008) - Damama T, ~~Zookeeper and Warden~~ President and Founder of the DTD, today issued a health alert to the parents of all teens. The DTD has uncovered a potential health threat to teens as evidenced by a recent and unexplained outbreak of Purple Neck Rash syndrome in the home offices of the DTD. The malady seems to primarily effect females between the ages of 17 and 18 and usually appears after bouts of exertion such as going out on a date. While males may also be effected, the DTD has not yet seen any first-hand cases.

In an effort to stem the spread of this unsightly and often painful disease, Damama T has issued official warnings to the male most recently in contact with the DTD's resident disease carrier citing the need to refrain from applying any oral pressure to the effected area thus causing further spread of the rash. Doing so could potentially result in the parent's need to take whatever steps are necessary to contain this outbreak, up to and including indefinite quarantine of the afflicted teen.

Any parent observing Purple Neck Rash syndrome should use extreme caution when examining the discoloration as the teen carrier may exhibit signs of excessive agitation. Continued attempts at examination may incite the patient to bellow that the examiner is "out of your flipping mind and too stupid to know what you are looking at! IT IS JUST A RASH!" Additionally, upon learning that the DTD intends to notify ~~the boyfriend~~ other potential victims of the appearance of the rash, the teen may lose total control and resolve into a fit of the hysterical screaming mimis. Parents should not take this behavior personally as it is a normal part of the progression of the disease.

The discoloration will resolve on its own within one to two weeks, usually leaving no permanent scarring, but this does not mean that the patient has acquired an immunity to the disease. Reappearance of PNR is not uncommon as teens tend to regularly cross-contaminate each other. However, with any luck the fear of future extended quarantines may provide enough behavior modification to reduce the number of outbreaks.

For additional information on why teens do what they do, the DTD highly recommends that parents read: Teenage Brain Development. This scientific article has played a huge role in the reduction in the number of murderous thoughts experienced by the staff of the DTD. Hopefully it will help others, too. (For real.. no joke. Go read it!)

Adolescence is perhaps nature's way of preparing parents to welcome the empty nest. ~Karen Savage and Patricia Adams, The Good Stepmother

NOBama for this Mama

2008-09-07T00:34:00.006-05:00

After Bug’s, Lady N’s, and now Lady T’s comments, I began to wonder if I’d given the topic enough consideration before publishing that last post. I have, therefore, spent a good part of the day researching the exact crux of this unsavory topic. While the questions about why Obama orchestrated the demise of the Illinois bill may never be fully understood (especially in light of his using the chicken way out of taking a stand by voting "Present" instead of Yay or Nay), there is one thing that is crystal clear: Barack Hussein Obama supports, with all his heart and soul, the ‘‘Freedom of Choice Act’’. And according to his website, he will pass it into law as quickly as is humanly possible should he become president. And the Freedom of Choice Act allows for the post-delivery murder of infants.

While I personally could never choose abortion (a fact for which Bug should be eternally grateful), I have always defended a woman’s right to make that decision for herself. With one caveat: I don’t think the option should be available past the first trimester unless there are specific, extreme, extenuating circumstances. I have always based my decision on the fact that somewhere between the 13th and 16th weeks of gestation, the tiny being, whether you want to call it a fetus, a baby or a blob, begins to feel pain (Read the first paragraph under ANATOMICAL AND FUNCTIONAL REQUIREMENTS FOR PAIN PERCEPTION for a quick overview of this topic). As a mother, hell as a human being, the thought of causing any other living being pain is simply unacceptable. (We even mandate the humane (pain-free) killing of animals and death-row inmates by law!) And once you understand the stages of development of a fetus, I personally can’t understand how anybody could choose abortion. Especially after the 12th week.

Even with this personal opinion, I have never judged any woman who chose to have an abortion whether out of selfishness, desperation or ignorance of other possible options. I have counseled women, some my own “kids,” while they cried and agonized, trying to decide what to do. I’ve supported them through the days, weeks and months after the abortion as they worked through the process of grieving and the reevaluation of their lives. (Yes, even the ones who knew in their hearts that they’d made the right decision for their own lives went through some sort of grieving process whether it was for the lost child or their own lost innocence.)

I’ve walked with them through what I call the Wondering Times: I wonder what he/she would have looked like in that outfit. I wonder if he would love baseball as much as my dad does. I wonder if she would have wanted to play dress-up like my niece does. I wonder... I wonder... I wonder... and on it goes even for those who KNEW they’d ultimately made the right decision for their own lives. Not that they all would have made a different decision even now, but there is still (at least for everyone I’ve worked with) a bit of pain in living with the aftermath of that final decision.

That pain is often magnified 1000 fold upon the birth of their first full-term baby when the reality of that long-ago decision blasts them full force in the heart. The only thing more painful than being the person who has to watch her suffer through the guilt and grieving process all over again is being the woman who has to live through it. But none of this is why I’m revisiting this topic. I am back here again to talk about why Obama’s stand on the Freedom of Choice Act (FOCA) concretes my decision to NOT vote for him.

I have a MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR MAJOR issue with the provision allowing a woman (as stated on page 8, lines 6, 7, and 8), “...(C) to terminate a pregnancy after viability where termination is necessary to protect the life or health of the woman...”

It's that word "viability" that sticks in my craw. By the document’s own definition on page 7, lines 10-15:
10 (3) VIABILITY.— The term ‘‘viability’’ means
11 that stage of pregnancy when, in the best medical
12 judgment of the attending physician based on the
13 particular medical facts of the case before the physic-
14 cian, there is a reasonable likelihood of the sustained
15 survival of the fetus outside of the woman.

Did you read that? “...there is a reasonable likelihood of the sustained survival of the fetus outside of the woman.” And this document is proposing that it should be killed even though it has a “reasonable likelihood of ... sustained survival....” And by the way, doesn’t a “fetus” become a “baby” once it’s outside the woman? Yet FOCA would allow for the post-delivery death of that baby if its life might cause some sort of problem to “the life or health of the woman...” This begs the question, WHAT HARM CAN IT DO THE WOMAN AFTER IT’S OUT OF HER that would be serious enough as to require the baby’s death??

It’s not MURDER, though, says FOCA – it’s “abortion” even though the baby was viable at the time it was removed from the uterus. Really? If it comes out alive and has a reasonable likelihood of survival, but is then allowed to lay there and die instead that's not murder?? Well then what does that say about the teenagers who give birth in bathrooms and put the baby in the trash can? What’s the difference? Is the scared, desperate teen’s act a crime simply because there was no doctor there to get paid for having induced labor so the child could be left to die? Why should these girls be raked over the coals in the press, be more traumatized and ostracized by the public outcry over their heinous choice and then sent to prison to PAY for their CRIMES, but the women who choose to pay a clinic or a hospital to kill the kid are allowed to go home and get on with the rest of their lives? Can anybody explain that to me??? WHAT. IS. THE. DIFFERENCE??? If one is OK, then they both should be. If one is not, then NEITHER SHOULD BE ACCEPTABLE!!

Second, I have a HUGE problem with the fact that they want to make this whole thing retroactive: (Starting on page 8 and continuing on page 9.
23 SEC. 6. RETROACTIVE EFFECT.
24 This Act applies to every Federal, State, and local
25 statute, ordinance, regulation, administrative order, deci-
1 sion, policy, practice, or other action enacted, adopted, or
2 implemented before (emphasis added), on, or after the date of enactment
3 of this Act.

Plus.. P.L.U.S. they want it to be enforceable by Civil action:
Page 8:
13 (c) CIVIL ACTION.—An individual aggrieved by a vio-
14 lation of this section may obtain appropriate relief (include
15 ing relief against a government) in a civil action.

Guess what, folks. If they make it retroactive and allow “relief...in a civil action” it could be interpreted to mean that any woman who feels that her civil rights according to this new document have EVER been violated can go back and sue the government. I know I'm excited about the idea of having MY tax dollars be paid out to every woman who ever made the choice to have an abortion even though it was against the law at the time. Hey, how about if we just go ahead and legalize ALL killings and then pay off the murderers who were "unlawfully imprisoned" by that bad law??? (Please note: In case you didn't notice it, the last two sentences were dripping with sarcasm when they came out of my head!)

Just one final note to all my kids: I applaud the fact that you are free thinkers and speak your mind. However, I also require that you all be polite and mindful that you (like your Damama) are not always right. As always, you are welcome to state your opinion as long as you don't go on any personal attack missions.

Ok - I'm done ranting. For tonight.

Peace, Blessings, Wisdom, Patience, and Love to all.

Military Wives deserve so much respect...

2008-09-03T02:23:00.003-05:00

Please head over to Brandy's corner of the blogverse and read her post "What is a Military Wife?" WOW! What food for thought. It makes me so much more grateful for my life. I am awed by the sacrifices made by these men and women to ensure that the rest of us can have our dull, trying, relatively normal lives.

Thank you, Military Wives. I, for one, couldn't do it.

Peace, love and many, many blessings and prayers for the swift and safe return of your loved ones.

Why?? Has the world gone insane?

2008-08-30T22:35:00.003-05:00

I know that there are always other things in bills that politicians don't want passed so they have to vote no on some really good legislation to keep the crap out. But WHAT THE HELL COULD BE WORSE THAN THIS TYPE OF MURDER???

You all know that I don't usually get into the political stuff. However, this one has got me so mad that I cannot in good conscience disregard it. I didn't like this man before, but after this, I wouldn't vote for him to be put out if he was on fire. If this offends you to the point that you don't want to come back here anymore, I'll miss you but it won't change my opinion.

Peace and blessings to all. And God HELP us all through this election year. No matter what happens or who wins, I fear it's going to get a lot worse before it's over and this nation re-finds its balance.

Why don't they make a pill for THAT??

2008-08-29T08:41:00.006-05:00

They seem to have developed pills to modify just about every nuance of the human condition. Too angry? Too sad? Too happy? Gotcha covered. Tired? Hyper? Apathetic? Piece of cake! Anxious? Confused? Fearful? Easy peasy! Have a pain in your head? Your back? Your foot? Your pinkie? Take two and call me in the morning. But what about that most dread malady: PAIN IN THE BUTT PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVELY DEFIANT TEENAGER.

Come on, you recognize this. It's typically characterized by the repeated phrase, "Yes, Ma'am." followed by the total disregarding of whatever the request happens to be. Conversations with afflicted teens go something like this:

Mom - Girl, please remember to turn off your lights, TV, radio, fans, and lamps (all of which are on virtually all. the. time. if she's in the room) when you leave the house.

Girl - "Yes, Ma'am."

Mom - Please don't leave your dishes on whatever surface you are nearest when you finish eating. (Think couch, almost finished cereal, and two dogs. Not a pleasant thing to awaken to in the morning.)

Girl - "Yes, Ma'am."

Mom - Please ...

Girl - "Yes, Ma'am."

..."Yes, Ma'am."

..."Yes, Ma'am."

Does this sound familiar to you? On the surface they sound like the kindest, sweetest, most compliant and cooperative creatures ever to walk God's green earth. Upon closer inspection, though, every day you find the lights still on, the dishes still wherever, the clothes still on the bathroom floor, the whatever still being done or not done day after day after day after FRIGGIN DAY!!! And all of it accompanied by a sweet, polite, smiling, "Yes, Ma'am." I, personally, am to the point that if I hear that syrupy sing-song "Yes, Ma'am." one more time, SOMEBODY'S HAIR IS COMING OUT! What does it take to get them to put feet on that damnable response??

One would think that pharmaceutical companies would have JUMPED on this by now! After all, it is an ailment that, in one of its many and varied forms, effects every parent on the planet. It even has its own definition in the Medline Plus Medical Encyclopedia. Go ahead. Click over there and read it. I'll wait.....

.....

So what'd ya think? Did you notice that line about "A person with this disorder may appear to comply with another's wishes and may even demonstrate enthusiasm for them. However, the requested action is either performed too late to be helpful, performed in a way that is useless, or is otherwise sabotaged (why didn't they add IGNORED here???) to express anger that cannot be expressed verbally."? Sounds familiar, huh!?!?

And anger that cannot be expressed verbally? Really? I'd actually rather be told that she didn't want to do whatever, and why, so that we could discuss possible alternate solutions before I have threatened to take her phone away for noncompliance. I'm not TOTALLY unreasonable. There have been a few times that I've been convinced to change my mind. Maybe then there wouldn't be any anger that needed expressing!?!?!?!

Did you notice the "Treatment" section? Therapy. Yep, it says, "Counseling may be of value in helping the person identify and change the behavior." May be of value?? MAY??? MAY???? Try, NOT!! Been there and done that so many times that the damn t-shirt is now ripped to tattered shreds and is being used to firmly secure my wrists to my waist so I don't beat her to a bloody pulp!

So now, with no hope of a better life through chemistry (Thanks, Cousin Howard! That's such an accurate phrase!), I'm forced to come up with my own treatments for this disorder. Here's a list of possiblities:

1. Boot in the Butt (BIB) - Apply pointy tip of right cowboy boot to posterior region of afflicted youth. This may provide only temporary relief for the patient, but will provide immeasurable pleasure to the caregiver. Note: having a criminal defense attorney on retainer might expedite the caregiver's release from post-treatment incarceration, but a cost/benefit analysis shows that it would damn near be so worth it as to be cheap at twice the price! (No, I wouldn't really do this but there are sure days when it's fun to daydream about!! LOL!)

2. Buy out - Offer to pay for compliance. Note: Ensure that compliance has been achieved BEFORE tendering any cash. Prepayment will only result in the drastically increased necessity for additional BIB treatments.

3. Ostrich-ization - This was the counselor's advice. Ignore it, it'll go away. Quit asking. Quit worrying. Quit caring so much! Way more easily said than done!

4. Treatment in Kind (TIK) - Start responding to their requests with, "Yes, Dear" and then promptly do something else. This will provide a great way for you to stretch those creative thinking muscles that have been long deadened by the tediousness of day-to-day life with PIBPAD teen.

5. Prayer - for patience. for peace. And a time warp that rapidly moves us to the day when THEY have their own teens and we can sit back and LAUGH OUR OLD, KNOWING BUTTS OFF!