Tis' a sad day. It's a day most people try not to think about. A day that we all hope will never come. Some never have to deal with it, but alas, many do. We probably put it somewhere in the dark recesses of the mind, the back burner, if you will, hoping that is where it will stay.
I never dreamed this day would come. I certainly never thought that this daunting task would fall into my hands. It's not fair. There is a black cloud forming above my head and I blog with a heavy heart.
It seems that I must search for a special place, a safe place because I fear Lela and Blanche are headed to the "home".
I don't know what has gotten into them. Maybe it's the moon, it was full in the middle of this month, or maybe they were both hoping for a gig on Animal Planet. America's Funniest Home Videos might have been a better choice.
I'll start with Blanche. She lives on the outskirts of our state's capitol in a sprawling ranch style home. If ever there were a glass bauble or knickknack to be made, it resides in her house. The setting of her home provides her with wildlife not normally seen in the city. She has had deer, wild turkeys, all species of birds and raccoon visit her yard. This has brought her much delight.
Another thing Blanche has is tunnel vision, she only sees what she is looking at. This also accounts for how she drives. There is never anyone on the road but her, unless there is someone in front of her. When there is someone in front of her, they are not there for long.
Blanche also has a couple of cats. They have the roam of the yard, but since the weather around here has been so frigid, they have been staying in the house. She let one of the cats, Grey, out the other evening for some fresh air. After a while, she went to check on him and noticed a raccoon sitting at the far edge of the patio. Grey was sitting on the other side, giving the raccoon a wary eye. She opens the door and calls to Grey, then something else caught her eye. This is where her lack of peripheral vision played the ace it had stored up its sleeve.
She isn't sure exactly what it was that grabbed her attention, but she did feel the cat brush up against her leg as it entered the house. As she began to shut the door, her vision went back to where Grey was sitting and he was still sitting there. Probably with a look of "WTH?" on his furry mug. Blanche looks down and sure enough, she had let the raccoon in the house.
The raccoon doesn't seem to be the least bit intimidated by Blanche's screams to her husband Raymond and is happily eating some cat chow out of a bowl.
Since all Raymond can hear is "Oh! Raymond!" about six times, he doesn't get in a big hurry to see what all the commotion is about. He finally comes down the hall, takes a look and tells Blanche why didn't she just say "raccoon". Blanche is standing outside behind the open door by this time.
The raccoon looks at Raymond, decides he's in the wrong place and scoots out the door. If the raccoon had gotten all the way in the house, it would have looked like a scene out of an old Disney movie, where some kind of animal reeks havoc and destroys an entire building. There wouldn't have been a bauble left unscathed.
About this time, far away in the great Southwest, Lela was having her own animal moment. Lela has a new dog. If you do not recall the blog of dog, here is a brief refresher. Sammy is a part Chihuahua, part Pomeranian ball of fluff, aka ankle biter. Lela also has a cat, Sasha, a Russian blue. By the way, Sasha is not happy.
Lela and her husband, Wally, have ancestral roots in Ireland and Germany. Now they have a Mexican/German dog and a Russian cat. With that many nationalities under one roof, it's a sure recipe for disaster.
Since there are certain parts of the house Sammy is not to be in, Lela buys and installs a baby gate. Maybe Lela was just excited about getting to watch the upcoming winter Olympics or maybe she always had a secret ambition to be a hurdle jumper, I'm not sure. At least with hurdles, if the back leg doesn't clear, the hurdle falls over.
Yes indeed, Lela heads off for bed, gets one leg over the gate, aka hurdle, but the other leg didn't follow through. It gets caught on the top of the gate and down went Lela. But it wasn't enough that she went down, no, she slammed her head into a closed door in the hallway. Lela ended up with a concussion.
I asked her why she didn't have a crate for Sammy. All the dog care information out there today always recommends crating a dog for bedtime, or when they have to be alone for short periods of time. She told me Sammy doesn't like the crate, it makes him cry.
Well, no doggy do do. It's a good thing Lela and Wally live close to the ER, they're thinking they may get the new wing addition named after them.
Let's see, here's a glossy brochure for a nice place....no throw rugs, no baby gates and no pets allowed.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Short & Snarky
There's nothing like a good old sinus infection to make you feel like crap. I've tried to ignore it, thinking it would go on its way to some other unsuspecting customer, but it didn't. My granddaughter had it last week, I suspect that's where I picked it up.
I've sneezed so many times in the last couple of days that this morning I literally hobbled out of bed. I read somewhere that a sneeze uses every muscle in the body. I believe it's true. Perhaps I will be lean and toned by the time this stuff is over, but for now I feel as if an eighteen wheeler ran over me.
The last time I had this I did some research online for a home remedy. I found an interesting article on vinegar. It said to put a couple of ounces in a bottle of water and sip it all day. Or, you could just drink it straight. I chose the latter. Yep, filled up a shot glass and down the hatch, bottoms up......I nearly died. It was much like the time my older cousin, who I thought the sun rose and set in, offered me a shot of his dad's whiskey. I was about 8 at the time and he was probably close to 16. I nearly died then too. That was some bad stuff. I gagged and gasped while he was trying to get me to be quiet, so we both didn't end up in trouble. I don't remember if we did, but I learned that if he told me to go play in the traffic, it probably wasn't a very good idea.
Did the vinegar work? Well, sorta. I had to work really hard to keep it down and it didn't want to stay down. I figured if it came back up, that was going to be really ugly. You can't throw up without some of it coming out of your nose. I think it did work, if nothing but to give my body something else to focus on.
My nose feels like I have taken a piece of sandpaper to the end of it. One should never use tissues when one has to blow their nose 1400 times a day. Paper tissues, being made from wood, are not kind to the end of the nose. Today I have one of my husbands' huge red bandanna hankies. It is much softer on my nose and I may just cram it into each nostril and save myself the trouble of having to blow.
Off to the kitchen to find the vinegar. Think I will water it down this time. Vinegar has a ton of uses and one of them is dissolving calcium deposits. I hope it doesn't dissolve my bones, but if it does I'll just slither out of bed tomorrow.
I've sneezed so many times in the last couple of days that this morning I literally hobbled out of bed. I read somewhere that a sneeze uses every muscle in the body. I believe it's true. Perhaps I will be lean and toned by the time this stuff is over, but for now I feel as if an eighteen wheeler ran over me.
The last time I had this I did some research online for a home remedy. I found an interesting article on vinegar. It said to put a couple of ounces in a bottle of water and sip it all day. Or, you could just drink it straight. I chose the latter. Yep, filled up a shot glass and down the hatch, bottoms up......I nearly died. It was much like the time my older cousin, who I thought the sun rose and set in, offered me a shot of his dad's whiskey. I was about 8 at the time and he was probably close to 16. I nearly died then too. That was some bad stuff. I gagged and gasped while he was trying to get me to be quiet, so we both didn't end up in trouble. I don't remember if we did, but I learned that if he told me to go play in the traffic, it probably wasn't a very good idea.
Did the vinegar work? Well, sorta. I had to work really hard to keep it down and it didn't want to stay down. I figured if it came back up, that was going to be really ugly. You can't throw up without some of it coming out of your nose. I think it did work, if nothing but to give my body something else to focus on.
My nose feels like I have taken a piece of sandpaper to the end of it. One should never use tissues when one has to blow their nose 1400 times a day. Paper tissues, being made from wood, are not kind to the end of the nose. Today I have one of my husbands' huge red bandanna hankies. It is much softer on my nose and I may just cram it into each nostril and save myself the trouble of having to blow.
Off to the kitchen to find the vinegar. Think I will water it down this time. Vinegar has a ton of uses and one of them is dissolving calcium deposits. I hope it doesn't dissolve my bones, but if it does I'll just slither out of bed tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 29, 2014
Just Add Water
"Water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink."
Rime of the Ancient Mariner Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Water wasn't my intended topic. In fact, sometime yesterday afternoon I had a splendid idea pop into my head for today's subject. But alas, I can't for the life of me remember what it was. My proof reader says she is going to make me a tiny book, to wear on a chain, like a necklace, so I can jot down my ideas, when I am enlightened by them. It will also have to have a tiny pencil to go with it. This will require me to remember where I place this "awe inspiring thought catcher", in order to wear it each day. I have a small voice recorder for exactly the same purpose. I think I know where it is.....maybe.
It's not that there is no water, it's out there, somewhere, we just can't access it. This latest polar vortex has really done a number on the ageing infrastructures. Lots of broken water mains. Just when we think we get to boil more water, there is no water to boil. Our small city crew has been working non stop for the last couple of days trying to remedy this situation and my hat goes off to them. We had water last night, at least our end of town did, before we went to bed, but none this morning. That certainly throws a wrench in the gears. Having no water in the middle of the afternoon can be lived with. Waking up with no water, well, that can be down right ugly and my hair is proof of that. I did have the foresight to boil a large pan last night while the "gettin was good", so we were able to brush our teeth this morning.
There was even enough for me to fix my pot of tea and my husband's coffee. The coffee smells wonderful this morning. I wish I liked it. If it would only taste like it smells, I could drink it. I could drink it now, but it's a bit early to break out the Baileys.
Let's see, what else? Oh, yes....the Grammy Awards. My there is a lot of twatter going on about that. Twatter, aka chatter, twitter and any other social media outlet you'd like to throw in the mix.
People either loved it, or didn't and there doesn't seem to be any middle ground to stand on. I'm not sure why the people who fell into the dislike category bothered to take the time to watch it. Maybe they just needed something to gripe about. I enjoyed it, although, I must admit, I was a little disappointed with the opening act. I'm not a big JayZ fan, Beyonce yes, him, not so much. But he may have redeemed himself with me, like he really cares what I think, with his own acceptance speech. Perhaps fatherhood has been good for him.
One reason I like to watch it is to see all the people in the audience. Some of them make it on stage, but a lot of them don't. I enjoy seeing the clothes and the hairstyles they chose for this gala event. Then I spotted Steven Tyler. I've always liked him but if someone starts a new talk show called "Plastic Surgery Gone Bad", he may be their first guest.
Watching the Grammy's also gives me a chance to see who the artists are. I never know the names of songs or who sings them, I only know the words. This was always a seed of discontent for my daughters. If I needed to know who was singing or what the title of the song was I would have to sing a few bars first. I always waited to do this when they had friends over.
Then there was Paul and Ringo, on stage together. That will probably never happen again. As I watched them perform, I was reminded of something.....ears and noses never stop growing.
One young man seemed to be a rising star in the music industry and won several awards. I've already forgotten his name but I hope that after the show was over he gave Smokey The Bear his hat back.
It was a fun evening for me because I like that kind of music. I will still turn it up loud and bust a move when the notion strikes, even if it makes my hip hurt the next day. I'm guessing that's the same reason Madonna had a cane.
Still no water, but the electricity is up and running, guess I will turn on some tunes.
Rime of the Ancient Mariner Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Water wasn't my intended topic. In fact, sometime yesterday afternoon I had a splendid idea pop into my head for today's subject. But alas, I can't for the life of me remember what it was. My proof reader says she is going to make me a tiny book, to wear on a chain, like a necklace, so I can jot down my ideas, when I am enlightened by them. It will also have to have a tiny pencil to go with it. This will require me to remember where I place this "awe inspiring thought catcher", in order to wear it each day. I have a small voice recorder for exactly the same purpose. I think I know where it is.....maybe.
It's not that there is no water, it's out there, somewhere, we just can't access it. This latest polar vortex has really done a number on the ageing infrastructures. Lots of broken water mains. Just when we think we get to boil more water, there is no water to boil. Our small city crew has been working non stop for the last couple of days trying to remedy this situation and my hat goes off to them. We had water last night, at least our end of town did, before we went to bed, but none this morning. That certainly throws a wrench in the gears. Having no water in the middle of the afternoon can be lived with. Waking up with no water, well, that can be down right ugly and my hair is proof of that. I did have the foresight to boil a large pan last night while the "gettin was good", so we were able to brush our teeth this morning.
There was even enough for me to fix my pot of tea and my husband's coffee. The coffee smells wonderful this morning. I wish I liked it. If it would only taste like it smells, I could drink it. I could drink it now, but it's a bit early to break out the Baileys.
Let's see, what else? Oh, yes....the Grammy Awards. My there is a lot of twatter going on about that. Twatter, aka chatter, twitter and any other social media outlet you'd like to throw in the mix.
People either loved it, or didn't and there doesn't seem to be any middle ground to stand on. I'm not sure why the people who fell into the dislike category bothered to take the time to watch it. Maybe they just needed something to gripe about. I enjoyed it, although, I must admit, I was a little disappointed with the opening act. I'm not a big JayZ fan, Beyonce yes, him, not so much. But he may have redeemed himself with me, like he really cares what I think, with his own acceptance speech. Perhaps fatherhood has been good for him.
One reason I like to watch it is to see all the people in the audience. Some of them make it on stage, but a lot of them don't. I enjoy seeing the clothes and the hairstyles they chose for this gala event. Then I spotted Steven Tyler. I've always liked him but if someone starts a new talk show called "Plastic Surgery Gone Bad", he may be their first guest.
Watching the Grammy's also gives me a chance to see who the artists are. I never know the names of songs or who sings them, I only know the words. This was always a seed of discontent for my daughters. If I needed to know who was singing or what the title of the song was I would have to sing a few bars first. I always waited to do this when they had friends over.
Then there was Paul and Ringo, on stage together. That will probably never happen again. As I watched them perform, I was reminded of something.....ears and noses never stop growing.
One young man seemed to be a rising star in the music industry and won several awards. I've already forgotten his name but I hope that after the show was over he gave Smokey The Bear his hat back.
It was a fun evening for me because I like that kind of music. I will still turn it up loud and bust a move when the notion strikes, even if it makes my hip hurt the next day. I'm guessing that's the same reason Madonna had a cane.
Still no water, but the electricity is up and running, guess I will turn on some tunes.
Tuesday, January 28, 2014
What If?
The wishing well sat at the far end of a grassy meadow. A winding path, lined with flowers in every color of the rainbow, led to the well. The path was paved with low flat stones of many shapes and sizes. Someone had taken great care in laying the stones in such a way that although it looked broken, its surface was smooth as silk, not one stone sat higher than another.
It had been a long time since the old man had visited the well. The place had always been a favorite spot for he and his wife. His wife had been passed many months and he had always felt he couldn't make the trip without her. Something about this morning was different, he wasn't sure what it was, but from the moment he had awakened, he knew he had to go to the well.
As the old man neared the end of the path, the path split and formed a large circle around the wishing well. There were four large wooden benches placed evenly around the well. Each one sat on the outside of the path nestled in all the colorful flowers. The old man was a bit winded from the long walk and sat down at the first bench to his right. It was really the only bench he could have chosen, it was their bench, he and his wife's.
The wishing well was about three feet tall and constructed of individual stones. Each stone had been painstakingly placed and mortared and like the path, the stones were smooth. Their mortar lines gave no hint of providing a youngster with a finger or foot hold to climb to the top. The well was deep and to look into it was like gazing into a portal to another dimension. It was always said that somewhere just beyond the blackness was a safety net, just in case someone did fall in, but if it was there, it couldn't be seen.
As the old man caught his breath, he noticed a young woman standing on the other side of the well. She was quite beautiful but her face was full of sadness. He tried not to stare, but he was sure that she was crying. He looked out across the end of the meadow, not wanting to interrupt her solitude. After a few minutes he could hear her sobbing.
He rose from the bench and dug deep into his pants pocket and produced two coins, a dime and a penny. He walked over to the well, gazed into its inky darkness, silently made a wish and dropped the dime into the abyss. The old man took a deep breath and made his way around the well to the young woman. As he drew near he extended his hand which held the last remaining coin and said. "My dear, a penny for your thoughts?"
The young woman turned to the old man, she wiped at her tears and said, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you."
The old man smiled, extended his hand again and said, "Young lady, you didn't disturb me. I can see that you are quite upset. A penny for your thoughts."
The young woman took the penny from his hand and again burst into tears. When she finally composed herself she turned towards the old man and began, "I was sitting here taking in all the beauty this place has to offer and I began to think. I thought, what if I met the man of my dreams and what if we were to marry? What if we had a wonderful life? What if we were to have a child, a beautiful little girl? And what if we brought her to this place? What if, while we were here, she fell into the well? What if my wonderful husband jumped into the well to save her and what if they both drowned? What if all that happened?! It just makes me so sad!"
The old man gave her a quizzical look, "None of these things have happened?", he asked.
"No", she said, "But what if they did?"
The old man looked into her sad eyes and said, "What if you did find and marry the man of your dreams? What if you had a wonderful successful life? What if you had a beautiful daughter and that daughter grew to be a great leader? What if she made the entire world a better place to live? What if she brought peace to all the nations? And what if she had children of her own, who were just like her and they loved to come to your house and spend time with you and your wonderful husband? What if all that happened?"
"Well," the young woman said, "That would wonderful!"
The old man smiled. "Life is too short, my dear, to focus on what if things could go wrong. There will always be good days and bad days and yes, sometimes bad things do happen. But, it takes no more energy to focus on what if something bad happens as it does to focus on what if something good happens. That is where your focus should be, focus on the good, because when you set your sights on the good, you open yourself up for the "good" to come to you."
"I'm not sure I understand." the young woman said.
The old man continued, "It's like the old saying, 'birds of a feather, flock together'. If you want good things in your life, surround yourself with others who have the same goal. Keep that goal always on your horizon. You may stumble from time to time, but troubles are the tools which God uses to fashion us for better things. Think good thoughts, for those thoughts will bring to you good things. Do not let your thoughts turn to what if things go bad, life is a journey, like a vacation, every once in a while, you will have a flat tire."
"I've never thought about it, life, like that before." She said.
The old man laughed. "You know what they say, it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. Don't spend your precious time making things harder than they are, always look for the good."
The young woman smiled at the old man, "Thank-you. she said. She dropped the penny into the well, turned and walked away.
The old man walked back to the bench and sat down. He closed his eyes. He felt someone pat his hand. He opened his eyes and there was his wife. She looked so beautiful and there was a glow around her. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.
"I have something to show you, something wonderful" answered his wife.
The old man took her hand and she led him down another path, a path with flowers in colors brighter than the sun. He stopped once, to look back. There on the bench was the shell he had spent a lifetime in. He looked back at his wife and with a wink he said to her, "What if I'd stayed home this morning?"
It had been a long time since the old man had visited the well. The place had always been a favorite spot for he and his wife. His wife had been passed many months and he had always felt he couldn't make the trip without her. Something about this morning was different, he wasn't sure what it was, but from the moment he had awakened, he knew he had to go to the well.
As the old man neared the end of the path, the path split and formed a large circle around the wishing well. There were four large wooden benches placed evenly around the well. Each one sat on the outside of the path nestled in all the colorful flowers. The old man was a bit winded from the long walk and sat down at the first bench to his right. It was really the only bench he could have chosen, it was their bench, he and his wife's.
The wishing well was about three feet tall and constructed of individual stones. Each stone had been painstakingly placed and mortared and like the path, the stones were smooth. Their mortar lines gave no hint of providing a youngster with a finger or foot hold to climb to the top. The well was deep and to look into it was like gazing into a portal to another dimension. It was always said that somewhere just beyond the blackness was a safety net, just in case someone did fall in, but if it was there, it couldn't be seen.
As the old man caught his breath, he noticed a young woman standing on the other side of the well. She was quite beautiful but her face was full of sadness. He tried not to stare, but he was sure that she was crying. He looked out across the end of the meadow, not wanting to interrupt her solitude. After a few minutes he could hear her sobbing.
He rose from the bench and dug deep into his pants pocket and produced two coins, a dime and a penny. He walked over to the well, gazed into its inky darkness, silently made a wish and dropped the dime into the abyss. The old man took a deep breath and made his way around the well to the young woman. As he drew near he extended his hand which held the last remaining coin and said. "My dear, a penny for your thoughts?"
The young woman turned to the old man, she wiped at her tears and said, "Oh! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you."
The old man smiled, extended his hand again and said, "Young lady, you didn't disturb me. I can see that you are quite upset. A penny for your thoughts."
The young woman took the penny from his hand and again burst into tears. When she finally composed herself she turned towards the old man and began, "I was sitting here taking in all the beauty this place has to offer and I began to think. I thought, what if I met the man of my dreams and what if we were to marry? What if we had a wonderful life? What if we were to have a child, a beautiful little girl? And what if we brought her to this place? What if, while we were here, she fell into the well? What if my wonderful husband jumped into the well to save her and what if they both drowned? What if all that happened?! It just makes me so sad!"
The old man gave her a quizzical look, "None of these things have happened?", he asked.
"No", she said, "But what if they did?"
The old man looked into her sad eyes and said, "What if you did find and marry the man of your dreams? What if you had a wonderful successful life? What if you had a beautiful daughter and that daughter grew to be a great leader? What if she made the entire world a better place to live? What if she brought peace to all the nations? And what if she had children of her own, who were just like her and they loved to come to your house and spend time with you and your wonderful husband? What if all that happened?"
"Well," the young woman said, "That would wonderful!"
The old man smiled. "Life is too short, my dear, to focus on what if things could go wrong. There will always be good days and bad days and yes, sometimes bad things do happen. But, it takes no more energy to focus on what if something bad happens as it does to focus on what if something good happens. That is where your focus should be, focus on the good, because when you set your sights on the good, you open yourself up for the "good" to come to you."
"I'm not sure I understand." the young woman said.
The old man continued, "It's like the old saying, 'birds of a feather, flock together'. If you want good things in your life, surround yourself with others who have the same goal. Keep that goal always on your horizon. You may stumble from time to time, but troubles are the tools which God uses to fashion us for better things. Think good thoughts, for those thoughts will bring to you good things. Do not let your thoughts turn to what if things go bad, life is a journey, like a vacation, every once in a while, you will have a flat tire."
"I've never thought about it, life, like that before." She said.
The old man laughed. "You know what they say, it takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile. Don't spend your precious time making things harder than they are, always look for the good."
The young woman smiled at the old man, "Thank-you. she said. She dropped the penny into the well, turned and walked away.
The old man walked back to the bench and sat down. He closed his eyes. He felt someone pat his hand. He opened his eyes and there was his wife. She looked so beautiful and there was a glow around her. "What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.
"I have something to show you, something wonderful" answered his wife.
The old man took her hand and she led him down another path, a path with flowers in colors brighter than the sun. He stopped once, to look back. There on the bench was the shell he had spent a lifetime in. He looked back at his wife and with a wink he said to her, "What if I'd stayed home this morning?"
Monday, January 27, 2014
Preparednessiness
I'm particularly fond of the suffix 'ness'. The best definition of 'ness' is to exemplify a quality or state of something. If I need to convey the super quality of a word, I simply do the double whammy 'ness' on the end of it. That helps get my point across. My old English teacher would be proud.
I have two members of my family who are a lot alike. They are not related by blood, only through marrying into the tribe, but, none the less, they could have come from the same mold. Cut from the same cloth, so to speak.
They are preppers. People who prepare for the worst of times, times of chaos in the human race. Times when people will run a muck in the streets because of some planetary collapse, like when the store runs out of eggs.
They are not like the ones seen on the reality TV shows with bunkers, forts and 30 plus years of food stock piled....at least not yet. They lay low, just under the radar. They have things they figure will come in handy and gear on the ready, if they need to head for the hills.
I used to tease the younger of this preparednessiness duo that if the grid really did go down, he would be the first one we ate. He used to be pretty concerned about germs and since water would be a most precious commodity, he wouldn't be able to shower four times a day, or use 5 towels to dry with. He has since had two children and the second one has pretty much cured him of any germ phobia he may have had.
I have always listened to them, with much interest, as they shared with me their recent product inventory, but never gave much thought to actually doing this myself. Then "it" happened, a mini Armageddon if you will.
The power grid went down. Not only did it crash, it stayed down for a whole whopping three hours and fifteen FREAKING minutes. Good grief, it was pandemonium in the streets.
It happened to happen on a school day and ten minutes into this disaster the social media was a buzz with people wanting to know if school would be dismissed. Thank goodness the cell towers were still working. No one could get through to the schools and the visions of frozen little children, still sitting at their desks with a math book open to page 216, were beginning to raise a panic. I had a vision myself, of the secretaries at the schools with the land line phone receiver lying on the desk, just so they didn't have to answer it.
The inside temperatures began to drop. Someone stated it was 58 degrees in their home...what must it be at the school? Then all hell broke loose and people began to go get their children out of school, since no one would answer the phone. Surely there were icicle stalactites hanging from the school ceilings because at this time the power had been out about 45 minutes. I was wondering what good that would do, they didn't have any power at their homes either. Maybe they planned to just ride around in the car, until normality was restored.
I checked our thermometer, it was 67 degrees. I eyed the small vent less gas heater in the kitchen. It has a fake log in it and when it was installed, I built a fireplace surround to give it a more fireplaceiness appearance. I could have turned it on, but that would have meant taking everything off the mantel to get to the controls. Since it was nice sunny day, albeit a cold day, I chose to throw on a blanket and read for awhile, along with keeping up with the social media posts.
Yes, it was a cold day. Yes, the power stayed off for a bit longer than expected, but here's the deal....it's been cold in this part of the country for a long time. If it warmed up to 58 degrees outside, for just one day, all the kids would have been outside with no coats. Shoot, I'd been out there too.
So this got me to thinking about all this prepper stuff. If people got this upset with being without power for a tad bit over three hours, what would they do if it was out for days at a time? I decided that maybe I should pay a little more attention to being prepared.
My youngest prepper had told me he met a man who had five years worth of firewood. This man, during a catastrophe, would be considered a rich man.
I don't know how deep the hole would have to be, or just where I should start digging. Maybe under my fish pond, a secret doorway to a deep dark tunnel and I think I will even be able to get my husband in on this one, without an eye roll.....BECAUSE, I figure the keeper of the cold beer might rank even higher than the firewood guy.
I have two members of my family who are a lot alike. They are not related by blood, only through marrying into the tribe, but, none the less, they could have come from the same mold. Cut from the same cloth, so to speak.
They are preppers. People who prepare for the worst of times, times of chaos in the human race. Times when people will run a muck in the streets because of some planetary collapse, like when the store runs out of eggs.
They are not like the ones seen on the reality TV shows with bunkers, forts and 30 plus years of food stock piled....at least not yet. They lay low, just under the radar. They have things they figure will come in handy and gear on the ready, if they need to head for the hills.
I used to tease the younger of this preparednessiness duo that if the grid really did go down, he would be the first one we ate. He used to be pretty concerned about germs and since water would be a most precious commodity, he wouldn't be able to shower four times a day, or use 5 towels to dry with. He has since had two children and the second one has pretty much cured him of any germ phobia he may have had.
I have always listened to them, with much interest, as they shared with me their recent product inventory, but never gave much thought to actually doing this myself. Then "it" happened, a mini Armageddon if you will.
The power grid went down. Not only did it crash, it stayed down for a whole whopping three hours and fifteen FREAKING minutes. Good grief, it was pandemonium in the streets.
It happened to happen on a school day and ten minutes into this disaster the social media was a buzz with people wanting to know if school would be dismissed. Thank goodness the cell towers were still working. No one could get through to the schools and the visions of frozen little children, still sitting at their desks with a math book open to page 216, were beginning to raise a panic. I had a vision myself, of the secretaries at the schools with the land line phone receiver lying on the desk, just so they didn't have to answer it.
The inside temperatures began to drop. Someone stated it was 58 degrees in their home...what must it be at the school? Then all hell broke loose and people began to go get their children out of school, since no one would answer the phone. Surely there were icicle stalactites hanging from the school ceilings because at this time the power had been out about 45 minutes. I was wondering what good that would do, they didn't have any power at their homes either. Maybe they planned to just ride around in the car, until normality was restored.
I checked our thermometer, it was 67 degrees. I eyed the small vent less gas heater in the kitchen. It has a fake log in it and when it was installed, I built a fireplace surround to give it a more fireplaceiness appearance. I could have turned it on, but that would have meant taking everything off the mantel to get to the controls. Since it was nice sunny day, albeit a cold day, I chose to throw on a blanket and read for awhile, along with keeping up with the social media posts.
Yes, it was a cold day. Yes, the power stayed off for a bit longer than expected, but here's the deal....it's been cold in this part of the country for a long time. If it warmed up to 58 degrees outside, for just one day, all the kids would have been outside with no coats. Shoot, I'd been out there too.
So this got me to thinking about all this prepper stuff. If people got this upset with being without power for a tad bit over three hours, what would they do if it was out for days at a time? I decided that maybe I should pay a little more attention to being prepared.
My youngest prepper had told me he met a man who had five years worth of firewood. This man, during a catastrophe, would be considered a rich man.
I don't know how deep the hole would have to be, or just where I should start digging. Maybe under my fish pond, a secret doorway to a deep dark tunnel and I think I will even be able to get my husband in on this one, without an eye roll.....BECAUSE, I figure the keeper of the cold beer might rank even higher than the firewood guy.
Friday, January 24, 2014
Ranting
I think I spend too much time on Facebook.
Yesterday I gained 10 pounds, just scrolling through the recipes. I have found some interesting ones that I have actually tried and it was nice to fix something different for a change.
One that caught my eye was making your own taco seasoning. It's great and so flavorful that I will never buy the pre-mixed stuff again. From the taco seasoning, I discovered I could also make my own chili powder. Since I have been doing that, the husband raves about my chili.
I thought I was being quite clever and Betty Crockerish by making these myself until I gave a closer look to the labels of the individual spices I had purchased. Good grief, my garlic powder came from China.
So, thanks to spending too much time on Facebook, this lady is going to have an herb garden this year. I shall grow and grind my own seasonings and be known as the new "Spice Girl". I will have to wait awhile on the garlic though, it has to be planted in the fall......who would have thunk that?
If I see one more advertisement on Facebook about Oprah's secret weight loss formula I may go running out the front door, screaming like a maniac. The same goes for Ellen's secret for no more wrinkles.
One thing that always amuses me about Facebook are the posts of people on a rant. These rants are usually used to convey just how ticked off they are at someone. Someone is spreading gossip about them and, by golly, they're going to defend themselves. Or they are really mad at someone else so they post some vicious nastiness about that person and from there, the drama ensues.
Most of the time I try to just skim the surface of ill worded posts but one caught my eye the other day and I fell a victim to the rant. It was from a prominent business person and by the time I finished reading it I'm not sure I want to do business with them. It was kind of scary.
The first thought that always comes to mind, when I read a rant, is "Well, ya just gave away your power." The power of self control. No one can take it from you, you just give it up. When it's given to the one who started the nonsense, the one who started it just won.
Why not just go to the person involved and say it to their face? That's a really good way to give away your power and not have to share it with the world. Why, it could lead to an all out, no holds barred, hair pulling, fisticuffs knock-out. Oh Mother loved the word 'fisticuffs'. Not only is this a good way to give up your power to someone else, to show a complete lack of self control, it also shows how smart you are. Well, maybe not.
The timer is beeping on the stove. It's time to wash the color off my hair.....again. I wish my hair had grown this fast when I was younger. Makes me want to hum a little AC/DC.....Back in Black.
Guess I better go before I look like the Queen Mother of All That Is Darkness, especially since I've had my little rant.
Yesterday I gained 10 pounds, just scrolling through the recipes. I have found some interesting ones that I have actually tried and it was nice to fix something different for a change.
One that caught my eye was making your own taco seasoning. It's great and so flavorful that I will never buy the pre-mixed stuff again. From the taco seasoning, I discovered I could also make my own chili powder. Since I have been doing that, the husband raves about my chili.
I thought I was being quite clever and Betty Crockerish by making these myself until I gave a closer look to the labels of the individual spices I had purchased. Good grief, my garlic powder came from China.
So, thanks to spending too much time on Facebook, this lady is going to have an herb garden this year. I shall grow and grind my own seasonings and be known as the new "Spice Girl". I will have to wait awhile on the garlic though, it has to be planted in the fall......who would have thunk that?
If I see one more advertisement on Facebook about Oprah's secret weight loss formula I may go running out the front door, screaming like a maniac. The same goes for Ellen's secret for no more wrinkles.
One thing that always amuses me about Facebook are the posts of people on a rant. These rants are usually used to convey just how ticked off they are at someone. Someone is spreading gossip about them and, by golly, they're going to defend themselves. Or they are really mad at someone else so they post some vicious nastiness about that person and from there, the drama ensues.
Most of the time I try to just skim the surface of ill worded posts but one caught my eye the other day and I fell a victim to the rant. It was from a prominent business person and by the time I finished reading it I'm not sure I want to do business with them. It was kind of scary.
The first thought that always comes to mind, when I read a rant, is "Well, ya just gave away your power." The power of self control. No one can take it from you, you just give it up. When it's given to the one who started the nonsense, the one who started it just won.
Why not just go to the person involved and say it to their face? That's a really good way to give away your power and not have to share it with the world. Why, it could lead to an all out, no holds barred, hair pulling, fisticuffs knock-out. Oh Mother loved the word 'fisticuffs'. Not only is this a good way to give up your power to someone else, to show a complete lack of self control, it also shows how smart you are. Well, maybe not.
The timer is beeping on the stove. It's time to wash the color off my hair.....again. I wish my hair had grown this fast when I was younger. Makes me want to hum a little AC/DC.....Back in Black.
Guess I better go before I look like the Queen Mother of All That Is Darkness, especially since I've had my little rant.
Thursday, January 23, 2014
Casting The Stone
Frank was a regular guy. He graduated from a small town high school and joined the service. When he returned, he married his high school sweetheart. They had a couple of kids and life seemed to be going fine, like it was supposed to go.
One day Frank's wife left him. Packed up her stuff, said her good-byes and walked out the door. She also left the kids.
Frank was brokenhearted, she was the love of his life. He wondered what went wrong. He tried everything he could think of to fix it, but nothing worked, she wasn't coming back.
Frank was sad, but he worked hard at moving forward, after all, he had two children to raise.
Life went on and Frank finally remarried.
One day he discovered he still wasn't happy. His life was boring, his health wasn't the greatest and his marriage had turned into just two people occupying space under the same roof.
Frank sat down with his wife and had a heart to heart conversation and she wasn't any happier than he was. They decided to call it quits.
Frank was now in his early sixty's, still a handsome man but wondering just what is was that life had in store for him. While he was in the service and stationed overseas, he had picked up a stone off of a foreign shore. The stone was about the size of a half dollar and had been worn smooth by the waves and sands of time. Frank had put the stone in his pocket and carried it with him everyday.
One fine sunny day, Frank drove to a small lake and sat down on the bank. He watched the small waves lap against the shoreline and contemplated just what it was that life had in store for him. He pulled the stone out of his pocket and gently rolled it from one hand to the other. The stone was still smooth as glass after all these years but it wasn't quite as large as it used to be.
As Frank gazed at the stone, he asked it a question. "Old rock, where is my life headed?"
Much to Frank's surprise, the stone answered. "Where do you want it to go?", it asked.
Frank gasped, "You can talk?" he said after he regained some of his composure.
"Yes", the stone answered.
"I didn't know you could talk!" Frank exclaimed.
"You've never asked me if I could." replied the stone.
Frank looked at the stone and decided maybe he was truly losing his mind. "What the heck", he thought, "go ahead and talk to a rock." He turned the stone over, "Does it matter which side I talk to?"
"No", said the stone, "I'm pretty much ambidextrous."
Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point, since his mind was obviously packing its bags and moving out, Frank took a deep breath and said, "OK rock, where is my life headed?"
Again the stone replied, "Where do you want it to go?"
"I just want to be happy!" Frank answered.
"Is that a place?" asked the stone.
"What do you mean, is that a place?" Frank asked, he was beginning to think talking to a rock wasn't such a good idea.
"Is happy a place you can go to?" the stone asked.
Frank was getting frustrated. "No! Happy isn't a place I can jump in my car and drive to, it's just something I want to be!"
"Hmmm", mused the stone, "I'm confused."
"You're confused!?! I'm the one talking to a rock!", blurted Frank.
"Well", said the stone, "If you can't go to happy but you want to be happy, what's the problem?"
Frank clenched the stone hard in his hand. Not only was he talking to a rock, it was a smart-ass rock. "You just don't understand." Frank sighed.
"Try me." said the stone.
"OK", Frank sighed again, "It seems that my whole life has been anything but what I wanted it to be."
"What did you want it to be?" asked the stone.
"I don't know", Frank stated. "I got married to the love of my life and she left me. She not only left me, she left the kids too. I did everything in my power to get her to stay, but nothing worked. It was awful. It hurt more than I could imagine and it screwed up the kids. Then when I finally decided I was over her and it was time to start over, I married again and that didn't work out either. Here I am, in my sixty's and I'm still not happy. I'm a nice guy and I'm not that old. Sure, I've got a few health issues going on, but hey, at my age that's expected.
I still don't look too bad for my age either and I'm trying to pay better attention to my health. I would like to find someone who wants to do things together, you know, have some fun. Go out to eat, go to the movies or just hop in the car and go for a road trip. I'm trying hard to fix all the wrongs I did in my life, to make up for lost time. I worked hard and now I'm even retired. I may not have money to burn, but I'm comfortable. I just don't understand why I can't find someone to make me happy. To finish out my days with a happy life."
The stone was silent.
Frank stared at the stone. "Good grief" he sighed, "I'm talking to a rock."
I'm still listening." the stone said. "May I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Have you ever been happy?" asked the stone.
Frank gazed across the lake and let the question ride on the waves. "Yes." he finally answered.
"When was that?"
"Back in the day." Frank said. "Back when I was younger and life was full of fun. When I was married, the first time, and the kids were little. I was involved with a group of guys and every weekend we would get together and play basketball. We all had young families back then and we took them with us. It was a great time, we had so much fun. Those are some of the best memories of my life. I'd go back and relive them if I could."
"You do." said the stone.
"What do you mean?" Frank asked, a little annoyed.
"Frank, I've been in your pocket for over forty years. I've been everywhere with you. I was at your wedding, the first one, the births of your children and the every weekend basketball games. I was there when your wife left and I was there when you grieved the loss. Basically, I've lived through all the things you have just shared with me, because I was always there."
Frank thought about this before he spoke. The rock was right, it had been by his side for most of his life. "Then why am I not happy?", he asked the stone.
"Because you choose not to be." the stone replied.
"That's not true!" Frank shouted. "I was really happy back when everything was right!"
The stone was silent again. "What have you got to say about that, you stupid rock?", Frank muttered to the rock cupped in his hands. He was beginning to worry that maybe someone might overhear his rock conversation and think he was really "stoned".
The stone spoke again. "Frank, you were right. Happy isn't a place you can drive to in your car and you know why, because happy isn't a place at all. It's a mindset. It doesn't come from anywhere or any person except yourself. Happy is something only you can provide to you and you alone. There is not one person on this earth who is designated to make you happy. Only you.
You need to cut the ropes, Frank. The ropes you have been using to drag your past around with you. Yes, I know how much you loved your first wife and yes, I know how beautiful you thought she was. But Frank, beauty is only skin deep. Real beauty comes from the inside, from the heart. She really wasn't the best thing that happened to you Frank".
It was Frank's turn to be silent.
The stone went on, "Life is full of unexpected things, Frank. There is no handbook for a perfect, happy life. Everyone goes through trials and tribulations. The difference is what you learn from those experiences and what you gain from them. Everyone makes mistakes too, Frank and you can't spend all your time trying to make them right. They happen for a reason. That reason may not be clear in the beginning but if you take the time to focus on what strength you gained, you will realize that it was a lesson to be learned. Stop looking back and start looking forward. Sure, you did have a great time during the glory days, but those are behind you and no matter how hard you try, they're never coming back.
You have spent so much precious time trying to relive them that you have wasted so much precious time that could have been used to move forward in your life. Are you with me Frank?"
Frank's eyes were a little misty. He looked straight ahead and softly whispered, "Yes, I'm with you."
"Frank, everyone has glory days, days of youth and fun and fire. But that's all they are, days. The more you try to drag them along with you, the more you push people away. Sure, it's fine to get together and talk old times, but don't spend all your time there. Life is always a forward movement. You need to go with the flow, so to speak, like water flowing down the river. Yes, you can back paddle, but it's a lot easier to ride downstream. You already know where you have already been, start looking forward to the things that you haven't seen yet. Stop and take the time to enjoy the trip, look at the scenery, see things you have missed. Find a new interest or try something you've never done before. When you meet someone, listen to them. Listen to where they've been but most importantly Frank, listen to where they are going.
Life is not about what other people do Frank, it's about what you do. Shake off the old dust and look at each day as a brand new adventure. When you do this Frank, you will understand where true happiness comes from."
Frank looked at the stone for a long time. Everything it said was true. How had he been so blind to it. He rolled the stone over again in the palm of his hand, "Have you ever made any mistakes, rock?"
The stone chuckled, "Well, I ended up in your pocket, didn't I?"
Frank hung his head, "Gee, has it been that bad?" he asked the stone.
"No." said the stone. "It hasn't been bad at all Frank, because I have chosen to look at each milestone in your life, along with my own, as just that.....a milestone. A place to be reached, a place to be lived and a place to move on from. It's time you moved on too, Frank. Cut the ropes and learn to live life as the adventure is was meant to be. Live in the now Frank, cause' now is all you have."
Frank stood up and once again gazed across the lake. The wind had died down and the waves were gone. The surface of the lake shone like a black mirror and reflected a cloudless sky.
He looked at the stone in his hand. "You're right rock, it's time I started living. Living in the now and not in the past."
"Atta boy!" said the stone.
"I think too, rock, it's time to do it on my own. I've carried you through the years locked in the depths of my pocket. If I'm going to move on, you should be able to do the same." Frank felt a stirring deep in his heart as he spoke to the stone.
"Whatever you decide" said the stone, "I will be fine with it. Just remember Frank, to always look forward."
"May I cast you in the lake?" Frank asked the stone. "It would be like a ceremonial right of passage to cast you and my past at the same time."
"Like I said before Frank, I'm fine with what you choose to do. I would like to ask one request before we part, though."
"Anything!" Frank replied, "You may ask for anything your heart desires!"
"Could you skip me across the lake Frank? I've always dreamed of being skipped."
"Your wish is my command!" Frank told the stone. "And thank-you, my old friend."
"You are most welcome", said the stone. "Fire away!"
Frank leaned back and with all the strength he had, he let the stone fly. The stone hit the water at the perfect angle. It skipped once, then twice and instead of losing speed, it seemed to go even faster. It skipped so many times that Frank lost count. Then it was gone, sinking to the bottom of the lake, never to be seen again.
Frank stood and watched as the last ripples of the stones' path faded away into the glassy surface of the lake. He felt good, maybe with a touch of nostalgia, but better than he had felt in years. He wondered just what this new feeling was, it was coming from somewhere deep down inside his soul.
A light breeze blew and ruffled Franks' hair and as he felt the wind caress his face he was sure he heard one last whisper from the stone...."Happiness, Frank, it happiness."
One day Frank's wife left him. Packed up her stuff, said her good-byes and walked out the door. She also left the kids.
Frank was brokenhearted, she was the love of his life. He wondered what went wrong. He tried everything he could think of to fix it, but nothing worked, she wasn't coming back.
Frank was sad, but he worked hard at moving forward, after all, he had two children to raise.
Life went on and Frank finally remarried.
One day he discovered he still wasn't happy. His life was boring, his health wasn't the greatest and his marriage had turned into just two people occupying space under the same roof.
Frank sat down with his wife and had a heart to heart conversation and she wasn't any happier than he was. They decided to call it quits.
Frank was now in his early sixty's, still a handsome man but wondering just what is was that life had in store for him. While he was in the service and stationed overseas, he had picked up a stone off of a foreign shore. The stone was about the size of a half dollar and had been worn smooth by the waves and sands of time. Frank had put the stone in his pocket and carried it with him everyday.
One fine sunny day, Frank drove to a small lake and sat down on the bank. He watched the small waves lap against the shoreline and contemplated just what it was that life had in store for him. He pulled the stone out of his pocket and gently rolled it from one hand to the other. The stone was still smooth as glass after all these years but it wasn't quite as large as it used to be.
As Frank gazed at the stone, he asked it a question. "Old rock, where is my life headed?"
Much to Frank's surprise, the stone answered. "Where do you want it to go?", it asked.
Frank gasped, "You can talk?" he said after he regained some of his composure.
"Yes", the stone answered.
"I didn't know you could talk!" Frank exclaimed.
"You've never asked me if I could." replied the stone.
Frank looked at the stone and decided maybe he was truly losing his mind. "What the heck", he thought, "go ahead and talk to a rock." He turned the stone over, "Does it matter which side I talk to?"
"No", said the stone, "I'm pretty much ambidextrous."
Figuring he had nothing to lose at this point, since his mind was obviously packing its bags and moving out, Frank took a deep breath and said, "OK rock, where is my life headed?"
Again the stone replied, "Where do you want it to go?"
"I just want to be happy!" Frank answered.
"Is that a place?" asked the stone.
"What do you mean, is that a place?" Frank asked, he was beginning to think talking to a rock wasn't such a good idea.
"Is happy a place you can go to?" the stone asked.
Frank was getting frustrated. "No! Happy isn't a place I can jump in my car and drive to, it's just something I want to be!"
"Hmmm", mused the stone, "I'm confused."
"You're confused!?! I'm the one talking to a rock!", blurted Frank.
"Well", said the stone, "If you can't go to happy but you want to be happy, what's the problem?"
Frank clenched the stone hard in his hand. Not only was he talking to a rock, it was a smart-ass rock. "You just don't understand." Frank sighed.
"Try me." said the stone.
"OK", Frank sighed again, "It seems that my whole life has been anything but what I wanted it to be."
"What did you want it to be?" asked the stone.
"I don't know", Frank stated. "I got married to the love of my life and she left me. She not only left me, she left the kids too. I did everything in my power to get her to stay, but nothing worked. It was awful. It hurt more than I could imagine and it screwed up the kids. Then when I finally decided I was over her and it was time to start over, I married again and that didn't work out either. Here I am, in my sixty's and I'm still not happy. I'm a nice guy and I'm not that old. Sure, I've got a few health issues going on, but hey, at my age that's expected.
I still don't look too bad for my age either and I'm trying to pay better attention to my health. I would like to find someone who wants to do things together, you know, have some fun. Go out to eat, go to the movies or just hop in the car and go for a road trip. I'm trying hard to fix all the wrongs I did in my life, to make up for lost time. I worked hard and now I'm even retired. I may not have money to burn, but I'm comfortable. I just don't understand why I can't find someone to make me happy. To finish out my days with a happy life."
The stone was silent.
Frank stared at the stone. "Good grief" he sighed, "I'm talking to a rock."
I'm still listening." the stone said. "May I ask you something?"
"Sure."
"Have you ever been happy?" asked the stone.
Frank gazed across the lake and let the question ride on the waves. "Yes." he finally answered.
"When was that?"
"Back in the day." Frank said. "Back when I was younger and life was full of fun. When I was married, the first time, and the kids were little. I was involved with a group of guys and every weekend we would get together and play basketball. We all had young families back then and we took them with us. It was a great time, we had so much fun. Those are some of the best memories of my life. I'd go back and relive them if I could."
"You do." said the stone.
"What do you mean?" Frank asked, a little annoyed.
"Frank, I've been in your pocket for over forty years. I've been everywhere with you. I was at your wedding, the first one, the births of your children and the every weekend basketball games. I was there when your wife left and I was there when you grieved the loss. Basically, I've lived through all the things you have just shared with me, because I was always there."
Frank thought about this before he spoke. The rock was right, it had been by his side for most of his life. "Then why am I not happy?", he asked the stone.
"Because you choose not to be." the stone replied.
"That's not true!" Frank shouted. "I was really happy back when everything was right!"
The stone was silent again. "What have you got to say about that, you stupid rock?", Frank muttered to the rock cupped in his hands. He was beginning to worry that maybe someone might overhear his rock conversation and think he was really "stoned".
The stone spoke again. "Frank, you were right. Happy isn't a place you can drive to in your car and you know why, because happy isn't a place at all. It's a mindset. It doesn't come from anywhere or any person except yourself. Happy is something only you can provide to you and you alone. There is not one person on this earth who is designated to make you happy. Only you.
You need to cut the ropes, Frank. The ropes you have been using to drag your past around with you. Yes, I know how much you loved your first wife and yes, I know how beautiful you thought she was. But Frank, beauty is only skin deep. Real beauty comes from the inside, from the heart. She really wasn't the best thing that happened to you Frank".
It was Frank's turn to be silent.
The stone went on, "Life is full of unexpected things, Frank. There is no handbook for a perfect, happy life. Everyone goes through trials and tribulations. The difference is what you learn from those experiences and what you gain from them. Everyone makes mistakes too, Frank and you can't spend all your time trying to make them right. They happen for a reason. That reason may not be clear in the beginning but if you take the time to focus on what strength you gained, you will realize that it was a lesson to be learned. Stop looking back and start looking forward. Sure, you did have a great time during the glory days, but those are behind you and no matter how hard you try, they're never coming back.
You have spent so much precious time trying to relive them that you have wasted so much precious time that could have been used to move forward in your life. Are you with me Frank?"
Frank's eyes were a little misty. He looked straight ahead and softly whispered, "Yes, I'm with you."
"Frank, everyone has glory days, days of youth and fun and fire. But that's all they are, days. The more you try to drag them along with you, the more you push people away. Sure, it's fine to get together and talk old times, but don't spend all your time there. Life is always a forward movement. You need to go with the flow, so to speak, like water flowing down the river. Yes, you can back paddle, but it's a lot easier to ride downstream. You already know where you have already been, start looking forward to the things that you haven't seen yet. Stop and take the time to enjoy the trip, look at the scenery, see things you have missed. Find a new interest or try something you've never done before. When you meet someone, listen to them. Listen to where they've been but most importantly Frank, listen to where they are going.
Life is not about what other people do Frank, it's about what you do. Shake off the old dust and look at each day as a brand new adventure. When you do this Frank, you will understand where true happiness comes from."
Frank looked at the stone for a long time. Everything it said was true. How had he been so blind to it. He rolled the stone over again in the palm of his hand, "Have you ever made any mistakes, rock?"
The stone chuckled, "Well, I ended up in your pocket, didn't I?"
Frank hung his head, "Gee, has it been that bad?" he asked the stone.
"No." said the stone. "It hasn't been bad at all Frank, because I have chosen to look at each milestone in your life, along with my own, as just that.....a milestone. A place to be reached, a place to be lived and a place to move on from. It's time you moved on too, Frank. Cut the ropes and learn to live life as the adventure is was meant to be. Live in the now Frank, cause' now is all you have."
Frank stood up and once again gazed across the lake. The wind had died down and the waves were gone. The surface of the lake shone like a black mirror and reflected a cloudless sky.
He looked at the stone in his hand. "You're right rock, it's time I started living. Living in the now and not in the past."
"Atta boy!" said the stone.
"I think too, rock, it's time to do it on my own. I've carried you through the years locked in the depths of my pocket. If I'm going to move on, you should be able to do the same." Frank felt a stirring deep in his heart as he spoke to the stone.
"Whatever you decide" said the stone, "I will be fine with it. Just remember Frank, to always look forward."
"May I cast you in the lake?" Frank asked the stone. "It would be like a ceremonial right of passage to cast you and my past at the same time."
"Like I said before Frank, I'm fine with what you choose to do. I would like to ask one request before we part, though."
"Anything!" Frank replied, "You may ask for anything your heart desires!"
"Could you skip me across the lake Frank? I've always dreamed of being skipped."
"Your wish is my command!" Frank told the stone. "And thank-you, my old friend."
"You are most welcome", said the stone. "Fire away!"
Frank leaned back and with all the strength he had, he let the stone fly. The stone hit the water at the perfect angle. It skipped once, then twice and instead of losing speed, it seemed to go even faster. It skipped so many times that Frank lost count. Then it was gone, sinking to the bottom of the lake, never to be seen again.
Frank stood and watched as the last ripples of the stones' path faded away into the glassy surface of the lake. He felt good, maybe with a touch of nostalgia, but better than he had felt in years. He wondered just what this new feeling was, it was coming from somewhere deep down inside his soul.
A light breeze blew and ruffled Franks' hair and as he felt the wind caress his face he was sure he heard one last whisper from the stone...."Happiness, Frank, it happiness."
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Just Stuff
We are in for another blast of bitter cold Arctic air. The meteorologists are referring to it as a vortex. I think they just give cool sounding names to weird weather anomalies to make us think we might enjoy it more if we don't call it what it is......super freaking cold air swooping down from the north.
If I want to experience a vortex, I'll go to Sedona, Arizona. They have vortexes that are portals of time/space warps that let us access a higher plane of existence. They allow us to raise our vibration and gain inner wisdom and peace. Don't roll your eyes, that kind of vortex sounds a whole lot more fun and interesting than one that is going to bring -30 degree wind chill factors.
I have had another item added to my schedule. Dog sitting, or granddog sitting. Yes, for the next four days, I have a small bundle of pure energy to care for. Josie is a pure bred Jack Russel terrier. For those of you who may not be familiar with the breed, let's put it this way, there's going to be lots of boinging going on. She can go from all four feet on the floor to eye level with me instantly and can continue this bouncing for as long as it takes for her to get her message across. That message usually means she needs to go outside. Small dogs have small bladders. I had her during the last arctic vortex so my only saving grace is the fact that she has very short hair and doesn't like the cold any more than I do.
My granddaughter arrived in pretty good humor, but alas, it didn't last long. Yesterday I thought we were going to get through our four hours together without a meltdown.....that didn't happen either. But, it was close, we only had fifteen minutes to go. This morning she was mad because the i-pad, or whatever it is, that she knows how to operate, wasn't picking up the internet signal, therefore interrupting her movie. I tried to explain what the problem was but trying to explain an internet connection to a 3 year old is like trying to explain that water really comes from someplace further away than the faucet. She is now reading a book to the dog.
The morning paper even came this morning, but since that hasn't happened in so long, we've stopped looking to see if it's on the front porch. The only reason I knew it was here was because of the above mentioned small bladder syndrome. I don't know if they have found someone new to deliver it or if it was just a fluke. Regardless of how it got here, I'm out of the mood to read it.
Yesterday marked a turning point in my life. I started my book. Not reading one.....writing one. Five hundred words down, 45,500 words to go. It was a liberating feeling, like having a veil lifted. Now that I have shared this intimate info, you have my permission to continue to ask me, "Are you done yet?" for as long as it takes.
Hopefully I will not stop the car and tell you to get out.
We need some warm temps and sunshine....January is almost over.
If I want to experience a vortex, I'll go to Sedona, Arizona. They have vortexes that are portals of time/space warps that let us access a higher plane of existence. They allow us to raise our vibration and gain inner wisdom and peace. Don't roll your eyes, that kind of vortex sounds a whole lot more fun and interesting than one that is going to bring -30 degree wind chill factors.
I have had another item added to my schedule. Dog sitting, or granddog sitting. Yes, for the next four days, I have a small bundle of pure energy to care for. Josie is a pure bred Jack Russel terrier. For those of you who may not be familiar with the breed, let's put it this way, there's going to be lots of boinging going on. She can go from all four feet on the floor to eye level with me instantly and can continue this bouncing for as long as it takes for her to get her message across. That message usually means she needs to go outside. Small dogs have small bladders. I had her during the last arctic vortex so my only saving grace is the fact that she has very short hair and doesn't like the cold any more than I do.
My granddaughter arrived in pretty good humor, but alas, it didn't last long. Yesterday I thought we were going to get through our four hours together without a meltdown.....that didn't happen either. But, it was close, we only had fifteen minutes to go. This morning she was mad because the i-pad, or whatever it is, that she knows how to operate, wasn't picking up the internet signal, therefore interrupting her movie. I tried to explain what the problem was but trying to explain an internet connection to a 3 year old is like trying to explain that water really comes from someplace further away than the faucet. She is now reading a book to the dog.
The morning paper even came this morning, but since that hasn't happened in so long, we've stopped looking to see if it's on the front porch. The only reason I knew it was here was because of the above mentioned small bladder syndrome. I don't know if they have found someone new to deliver it or if it was just a fluke. Regardless of how it got here, I'm out of the mood to read it.
Yesterday marked a turning point in my life. I started my book. Not reading one.....writing one. Five hundred words down, 45,500 words to go. It was a liberating feeling, like having a veil lifted. Now that I have shared this intimate info, you have my permission to continue to ask me, "Are you done yet?" for as long as it takes.
Hopefully I will not stop the car and tell you to get out.
We need some warm temps and sunshine....January is almost over.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Mother Lives
Losing someone is never easy. It doesn't matter if the loss is expected, due to illness, or if it is sudden. When someone is in the here and now one moment and gone the next, the hole they leave behind is never quite fully filled.
No matter what age you are, I don't think there is anything that prepares a person for the loss of their parent. It's like suddenly realizing that no one told us this was going to happen, when deep down, since the time we were quite small, we knew it would.
When Mother's time came to depart, I thought the world might possibly end. Even though it has been a little over six years, there isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't enter my thoughts. I still find myself, when looking for a specific recipe or trying to come up with someone's name or ancestry, thinking I'll just call Mother and ask her.
She may not be here in the physical world, but she has proven many times, that she is here in spirit. I could make a list, as long as a trip to the local store, about the times she has made her presence known, but I also know she also lives on in each one of us.....the ones she left behind.
Try as I might, to not do it, I find myself being Mother over and over again. From cooking to wanting to tear something up, she lives on in me.
I see her in my children. My youngest daughter has her house is in the middle of a remodel. She has two young children and has gone back to school.....to be a chiropractor. Yes, Mother lives on in her and she would be proud.
I see her in my sister, Blanche. Blanche loves shoes, Mother had more pairs than Imelda Marcos. One day Blanche pulled up in the alley outside my house. As I watched her from the kitchen window, I was awe struck by how much she looked like Mother, something I had never noticed before. Plus her shoes looked just like a pair Mother used to have.
Mother had a dog in her last few years. I love animals, but this dog was undoubtedly the ugliest dog I had ever seen....well, except for Mr. Winky. Mr. Winky belonged to Mother's cousin and he was really UGLY. I accompanied Mother to the pound when she decided she needed a dog and I tried to talk her out of the choice she made. I didn't succeed and she brought Bonnie, the part Shih Tzu part something else, like dish rag, home. They were quite the pair and Bonita, as I called her, accompanied Mother 99% of the time.
Yesterday, my sister Lela sent me a text message, along with a picture. She thought maybe she and her husband had lost their minds, or as she put it, "had been struck with the insanity bat." They had a new pet, a dog. The picture was of a small Chihuahua-Pomeranian mix puppy named Sammy.
I have an aversion to small dogs. It's not that I don't like them, I just like a dog to be big enough that if I step on it, I don't injure or squish it. I think this stems from something that happened when I was about 8 or 9 years old. My friend was at my house and I had to show her my neighbors' new dog, a bright orange Pomeranian named Snooks. Long story short, my friend picked Snooks up, Snooks bailed off the back of my friend's shoulder and landed on the sidewalk......breaking both front legs. The rest of the story wasn't pretty at all and that, I'm sure, is why I don't do small dogs.
Just so you know, Snooks survived, walked around on little doggy splints for about 6 weeks and lived a long and happy life.
So now Lela has a dog and I can picture her driving in the warm Arizona sunshine, Sammy at her side, talking to the dog as if Sammy might answer back. Yes, Mother lives.
I'm a firm believer in the after life. As hard as it is to say good-bye, I know that just the shell we live in is the only thing that really dies. The soul, the essence of who we really are, lives on and let's us know we are not alone. Pay attention, they are always with us and remember to look and appreciate what they left behind, to live on in us.
No matter what age you are, I don't think there is anything that prepares a person for the loss of their parent. It's like suddenly realizing that no one told us this was going to happen, when deep down, since the time we were quite small, we knew it would.
When Mother's time came to depart, I thought the world might possibly end. Even though it has been a little over six years, there isn't a day that goes by that she doesn't enter my thoughts. I still find myself, when looking for a specific recipe or trying to come up with someone's name or ancestry, thinking I'll just call Mother and ask her.
She may not be here in the physical world, but she has proven many times, that she is here in spirit. I could make a list, as long as a trip to the local store, about the times she has made her presence known, but I also know she also lives on in each one of us.....the ones she left behind.
Try as I might, to not do it, I find myself being Mother over and over again. From cooking to wanting to tear something up, she lives on in me.
I see her in my children. My youngest daughter has her house is in the middle of a remodel. She has two young children and has gone back to school.....to be a chiropractor. Yes, Mother lives on in her and she would be proud.
I see her in my sister, Blanche. Blanche loves shoes, Mother had more pairs than Imelda Marcos. One day Blanche pulled up in the alley outside my house. As I watched her from the kitchen window, I was awe struck by how much she looked like Mother, something I had never noticed before. Plus her shoes looked just like a pair Mother used to have.
Mother had a dog in her last few years. I love animals, but this dog was undoubtedly the ugliest dog I had ever seen....well, except for Mr. Winky. Mr. Winky belonged to Mother's cousin and he was really UGLY. I accompanied Mother to the pound when she decided she needed a dog and I tried to talk her out of the choice she made. I didn't succeed and she brought Bonnie, the part Shih Tzu part something else, like dish rag, home. They were quite the pair and Bonita, as I called her, accompanied Mother 99% of the time.
Yesterday, my sister Lela sent me a text message, along with a picture. She thought maybe she and her husband had lost their minds, or as she put it, "had been struck with the insanity bat." They had a new pet, a dog. The picture was of a small Chihuahua-Pomeranian mix puppy named Sammy.
I have an aversion to small dogs. It's not that I don't like them, I just like a dog to be big enough that if I step on it, I don't injure or squish it. I think this stems from something that happened when I was about 8 or 9 years old. My friend was at my house and I had to show her my neighbors' new dog, a bright orange Pomeranian named Snooks. Long story short, my friend picked Snooks up, Snooks bailed off the back of my friend's shoulder and landed on the sidewalk......breaking both front legs. The rest of the story wasn't pretty at all and that, I'm sure, is why I don't do small dogs.
Just so you know, Snooks survived, walked around on little doggy splints for about 6 weeks and lived a long and happy life.
So now Lela has a dog and I can picture her driving in the warm Arizona sunshine, Sammy at her side, talking to the dog as if Sammy might answer back. Yes, Mother lives.
I'm a firm believer in the after life. As hard as it is to say good-bye, I know that just the shell we live in is the only thing that really dies. The soul, the essence of who we really are, lives on and let's us know we are not alone. Pay attention, they are always with us and remember to look and appreciate what they left behind, to live on in us.
Monday, January 20, 2014
Things On Which I Ponder
I ponder about a lot of things. Things I think are deep and meaningful and things that make me raise my eyebrows and put on my "deadpan" face. Here, if you will, are some recent ponders.
What is it about a man's bald head that makes people open their mouths and emit words they wouldn't normally say. My husband is bald, bald by choice, he shaves his head. When it is freshly shaven, his head is really shiny, when it has a days' growth it acts just like Velcro and helps to keep his stocking cap on in strong winds. He has done this for so long that most people don't remember when he had hair, or realize he still does. He's had people say things like, "Whoa! Let me get my sunglasses on!" or "Hey, the glare is putting my eyes out!" Sometimes people will even rub the top of his head, as if to make a wish. He seemingly takes all this in good humor but I do ponder, on occasion, about the whole heap of trouble he would be in if he patted every rear end he sees shoved in a tight pair of jeans.
Why is it that our educational and health care systems have way too many people in the administration department? These people are usually not in the trenches teaching, spending hours with children, or on the health care side trying to save lives and care for the sick, but in most cases, they are making much more money than those who do the actual work.
Why is it that the individual private practice doctors have to be lumped into one giant medical group? Was that to make treatment more accessible or to bank on treatment instead of a cure?
Why is it that a person without health insurance gets treated differently than one who does? Is it all about the money? A friend shared with me their recent trip to the doctor. This friend lost their health insurance due to some financial hardships. This person had a pretty good idea of what they needed to have done so rather than go through a bunch of unnecessary tests, they scheduled a consultation with their doctor to discuss their options.
This doctor was their family doctor whom they have known for years. While at the visit, the nurse came in and took down all the information and administered a blood pressure check. My friend told them that really wasn't necessary, they were only there for a consultation, but the nurse did it anyway.
To make a long story short, a procedure was decided on and my friend made the trip to where this would take place. They had to pay up front an amount they could afford. When my friends' name was called, they were ushered down a hall by a nurse. The nurse opened the door and told my friend what to do and left. No blood pressure, no questions as to how they were feeling, no kind words. The nurse didn't even enter the room.
I've been pondering that one for quite a while.
I ponder about why a man, who has long stringy hair and a beard to match, wears camouflage, I guess on a daily basis, and is the star of some reality TV show is now a household name. Even my 3 year old granddaughter shared with me this man's delight with a new hot tub. I probably won't ponder on this one too long though, I'm pretty sure this fellow had more money than most of us, before he became a legend.
Lastly, I ponder about sports, or a sport, that being football. I do not ponder on the game itself because it causes my brain to turn to mush and I must keep as much of my gray matter as possible. I do ponder as to why someone who is paid $465,000 (and that was last years' salary, I googled it) can be a complete idiot. After his team won one of football's most coveted spots, a shot at being Super Bowl champions, this player went on a rant that made me think somebody needed to get the urine test kit out and be quick about it.
Honestly, I think that money would be much better spent on the teachers, nurses and doctors... and on that, I will ponder.
What is it about a man's bald head that makes people open their mouths and emit words they wouldn't normally say. My husband is bald, bald by choice, he shaves his head. When it is freshly shaven, his head is really shiny, when it has a days' growth it acts just like Velcro and helps to keep his stocking cap on in strong winds. He has done this for so long that most people don't remember when he had hair, or realize he still does. He's had people say things like, "Whoa! Let me get my sunglasses on!" or "Hey, the glare is putting my eyes out!" Sometimes people will even rub the top of his head, as if to make a wish. He seemingly takes all this in good humor but I do ponder, on occasion, about the whole heap of trouble he would be in if he patted every rear end he sees shoved in a tight pair of jeans.
Why is it that our educational and health care systems have way too many people in the administration department? These people are usually not in the trenches teaching, spending hours with children, or on the health care side trying to save lives and care for the sick, but in most cases, they are making much more money than those who do the actual work.
Why is it that the individual private practice doctors have to be lumped into one giant medical group? Was that to make treatment more accessible or to bank on treatment instead of a cure?
Why is it that a person without health insurance gets treated differently than one who does? Is it all about the money? A friend shared with me their recent trip to the doctor. This friend lost their health insurance due to some financial hardships. This person had a pretty good idea of what they needed to have done so rather than go through a bunch of unnecessary tests, they scheduled a consultation with their doctor to discuss their options.
This doctor was their family doctor whom they have known for years. While at the visit, the nurse came in and took down all the information and administered a blood pressure check. My friend told them that really wasn't necessary, they were only there for a consultation, but the nurse did it anyway.
To make a long story short, a procedure was decided on and my friend made the trip to where this would take place. They had to pay up front an amount they could afford. When my friends' name was called, they were ushered down a hall by a nurse. The nurse opened the door and told my friend what to do and left. No blood pressure, no questions as to how they were feeling, no kind words. The nurse didn't even enter the room.
I've been pondering that one for quite a while.
I ponder about why a man, who has long stringy hair and a beard to match, wears camouflage, I guess on a daily basis, and is the star of some reality TV show is now a household name. Even my 3 year old granddaughter shared with me this man's delight with a new hot tub. I probably won't ponder on this one too long though, I'm pretty sure this fellow had more money than most of us, before he became a legend.
Lastly, I ponder about sports, or a sport, that being football. I do not ponder on the game itself because it causes my brain to turn to mush and I must keep as much of my gray matter as possible. I do ponder as to why someone who is paid $465,000 (and that was last years' salary, I googled it) can be a complete idiot. After his team won one of football's most coveted spots, a shot at being Super Bowl champions, this player went on a rant that made me think somebody needed to get the urine test kit out and be quick about it.
Honestly, I think that money would be much better spent on the teachers, nurses and doctors... and on that, I will ponder.
Friday, January 17, 2014
For Ladies Only.........Seriously
I didn't blog yesterday. It makes me feel like I have let my readers down and for that, I apologize.
I didn't feel well and although that is no excuse, what I was feeling I didn't think was excellent content to share.
Was I sick? No, not particularly, at least not like having the flu or a cold. I just felt extremely snarky and had a minuscule amount of focus. My proof reader checked on me in the afternoon, thinking I had surely fallen prey to some terrible malady.
I shared with her my condition, even though it was probably more information than she had bargained for. Kind of like saying, "How are you?" to someone and they tell you, down to the last tiny detail. It took her awhile to respond, but she thought I should share, to not censor myself.
If I were to share with you what I shared with her, you would probably have to stop reading and leave the room. So, what's my problem? Well, let's just put it this way....Remember the drop boxes that used to set around for people to be able to donate used clothing? There should be drop boxes for un-needed body parts. If there were such drop boxes I would pull up and gladly deposit my no longer good for anything uterus into its depths. Yes, I could shoot that baby from the 3 point line and follow it up with a couple of ovary curve balls.
It's not a serious thing going on, just an annoying one. Given my age, I should be done with this crapola.
More information than you needed? Probably.
Then my husband called me and needed me to go to the store for him. I felt like telling him to take a flying F at his dunkin donut coffee he was out of, but I didn't.
My 3 year old granddaughter decided at the last minute she did not want to go to school. I have her for approximately four hours a day, four days a week. She can go from angelic to demonic in less than three seconds flat, much like her mother could do. I was sure we were going to get through the morning without her head spinning, but no, it didn't happen that way. She laid on the floor and wailed about going to school and needing her mother. I tried to explain to her that if I had to call her mother, it wasn't going to be pretty, but trying to reason with a spinning 3 year old head is nearly impossible. I finally told her I felt like crying too and she needed to keep that from happening. That's all it took, by the time we got out the back door, she was all smiles. Seeing her "G" a blubbering mess must have sounded far worse than going to school.
I did make the trip to the store and by the time I drove past the city limit sign, the dark black cloud that had been hanging over my head began to dissipate.
It's funny, the day before yesterday I was in a deep soulful mood, contemplating the vastness of the universe. In less than 24 hours I was transformed into someone who could have stuffed the trunk of my car full of dead bodies and gone for a road trip without a second thought of that being odd. Yes, being of the female species, we are granted the inalienable right to justifiable homicide during certain segments of any given calendar month.
I could have also used some other analogies for today's story. Like references to certain products in the meat department at the local grocery store.....mainly liver. But I'm sure there are a couple of guys who did not take today's title seriously.
As most ladies will agree, men haven't a clue.
I didn't feel well and although that is no excuse, what I was feeling I didn't think was excellent content to share.
Was I sick? No, not particularly, at least not like having the flu or a cold. I just felt extremely snarky and had a minuscule amount of focus. My proof reader checked on me in the afternoon, thinking I had surely fallen prey to some terrible malady.
I shared with her my condition, even though it was probably more information than she had bargained for. Kind of like saying, "How are you?" to someone and they tell you, down to the last tiny detail. It took her awhile to respond, but she thought I should share, to not censor myself.
If I were to share with you what I shared with her, you would probably have to stop reading and leave the room. So, what's my problem? Well, let's just put it this way....Remember the drop boxes that used to set around for people to be able to donate used clothing? There should be drop boxes for un-needed body parts. If there were such drop boxes I would pull up and gladly deposit my no longer good for anything uterus into its depths. Yes, I could shoot that baby from the 3 point line and follow it up with a couple of ovary curve balls.
It's not a serious thing going on, just an annoying one. Given my age, I should be done with this crapola.
More information than you needed? Probably.
Then my husband called me and needed me to go to the store for him. I felt like telling him to take a flying F at his dunkin donut coffee he was out of, but I didn't.
My 3 year old granddaughter decided at the last minute she did not want to go to school. I have her for approximately four hours a day, four days a week. She can go from angelic to demonic in less than three seconds flat, much like her mother could do. I was sure we were going to get through the morning without her head spinning, but no, it didn't happen that way. She laid on the floor and wailed about going to school and needing her mother. I tried to explain to her that if I had to call her mother, it wasn't going to be pretty, but trying to reason with a spinning 3 year old head is nearly impossible. I finally told her I felt like crying too and she needed to keep that from happening. That's all it took, by the time we got out the back door, she was all smiles. Seeing her "G" a blubbering mess must have sounded far worse than going to school.
I did make the trip to the store and by the time I drove past the city limit sign, the dark black cloud that had been hanging over my head began to dissipate.
It's funny, the day before yesterday I was in a deep soulful mood, contemplating the vastness of the universe. In less than 24 hours I was transformed into someone who could have stuffed the trunk of my car full of dead bodies and gone for a road trip without a second thought of that being odd. Yes, being of the female species, we are granted the inalienable right to justifiable homicide during certain segments of any given calendar month.
I could have also used some other analogies for today's story. Like references to certain products in the meat department at the local grocery store.....mainly liver. But I'm sure there are a couple of guys who did not take today's title seriously.
As most ladies will agree, men haven't a clue.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Trying To Make Sense In A Small World
Did you ever take a long awaited trip or vacation, far away from home, only to run into somebody you knew?
I think that most of us have experienced this "small world" phenomenon.
My husband and I were standing in Wall Drug, in Wall, South Dakota several years ago. Anyone who has driven across those rolling hills of tall grass and seen 1400 signs about Wall Drug, has to stop. As we were taking in all the sights Wall Drug has to offer, my husband noticed a man he was sure he knew. Sure enough, they had worked at the same place, years before.
Another time, while sitting in the airport in Cancun, Mexico, my husband noticed an older gentleman wearing a school jacket from a neighboring town in our area. He asked the man if he had purchased the jacket in Mexico and after introductions, my husband knew this man's son. I always said I couldn't go anywhere with him that he didn't know somebody.
Years ago, Mother took a bus trip to the south west. When she stepped off the bus, somewhere in New Mexico, there stood a woman she worked with. Their first response was, "What are you doing here?!?"
Yes it is a small world. I always heard that most of us know someone who knows someone famous and it usually only takes a sequence of about 6 people to get to the famous one. For instance, I know someone, who knows someone who was very good friends with President George Bush, (the first one).
There has been another shooting in this country, as most of you know. The reason most everyone knows is because it seems to have been broadcast over every news agency in the world. I sometimes wonder why that is necessary. It just seems to give some other person, who is obviously not right in the head, an idea.
The victim in this case, graduated from a small town high school, 20 miles from my small home town. I didn't know him or his family personally, but I have family who lives there and they do.
This isn't a rant about gun control. Guns are simply a better, faster and more accurate way of throwing a rock. Guns don't kill people, people kill people and they've been doing it since they first set foot on planet Earth. Why? I'm not sure, but I want to close with a couple of ideas for you to think about.
These ideas are from books that I have read. The following passage comes from "Proof of Heaven A Neurosurgeon's Journey into the Afterlife" by Eben Alexander, M.D. Dr. Alexander had absolutely no belief in life after death, until he had his own near death experience. The passage is just one of the things he was told while in the presence of the Creator. He refers to God as Om, and the orb is his guardian.
"Through the Orb, Om told me that there is not one universe but many--in fact, more than I could conceive--but that love lay at the center of them all. Evil was present in all the other universes as well, but only in the tiniest trace amounts. Evil was necessary because without it free will was impossible, and without free will there could be no growth--no forward movement, no chance for us to become what God longed for us to be. Horrible and all-powerful as evil sometimes seemed to be in a world like ours, in the larger picture love was overwhelmingly dominant, and it would ultimately be triumphant."
The next passage is from my memory, I've obviously loaned the book out because it wasn't in the stack by my chair. It comes from the book "Why I Am A Catholic" by Garry Wills. Mr. Wills is a professor of history emeritus at Northwestern University according to the inside flap on the cover of another one of his books and the last time I emailed him, he was still there. He also took his doctorate in the classics and taught ancient and New Testament Greek at Johns Hopkins University. Through this latter detail, of being a translator of the old Greek language, Mr. Wills has shed new light on what some of the words actually meant, before being translated into the Kings James version of the New Testament.
So here is the way Garry Wills translates the first part of the Lord's prayer. Please remember, this is from my memory, which yesterday wasn't working worth a hoot, I hope I do Mr. Wills justice:
Our Father of the Heavens,
Your title be honored,
Your reign arrive,
Your design be fulfilled,
On earth, as in Heaven.
I am not preaching, nor am I Catholic, I just enjoy books on different religious beliefs. The thoughts I want to leave you with are these: If the design of the Creator hasn't come to completion, then we must have a ways yet to go. Even though it seems that there is an awful lot of evil things going on, we need to try to wrap our heads around the fact that evil is a necessary element. Lastly, if love wins the game, that is where we plant our hope.
If you don't believe in God or a higher power, that's fine too, you'll be the most surprised.
I think that most of us have experienced this "small world" phenomenon.
My husband and I were standing in Wall Drug, in Wall, South Dakota several years ago. Anyone who has driven across those rolling hills of tall grass and seen 1400 signs about Wall Drug, has to stop. As we were taking in all the sights Wall Drug has to offer, my husband noticed a man he was sure he knew. Sure enough, they had worked at the same place, years before.
Another time, while sitting in the airport in Cancun, Mexico, my husband noticed an older gentleman wearing a school jacket from a neighboring town in our area. He asked the man if he had purchased the jacket in Mexico and after introductions, my husband knew this man's son. I always said I couldn't go anywhere with him that he didn't know somebody.
Years ago, Mother took a bus trip to the south west. When she stepped off the bus, somewhere in New Mexico, there stood a woman she worked with. Their first response was, "What are you doing here?!?"
Yes it is a small world. I always heard that most of us know someone who knows someone famous and it usually only takes a sequence of about 6 people to get to the famous one. For instance, I know someone, who knows someone who was very good friends with President George Bush, (the first one).
There has been another shooting in this country, as most of you know. The reason most everyone knows is because it seems to have been broadcast over every news agency in the world. I sometimes wonder why that is necessary. It just seems to give some other person, who is obviously not right in the head, an idea.
The victim in this case, graduated from a small town high school, 20 miles from my small home town. I didn't know him or his family personally, but I have family who lives there and they do.
This isn't a rant about gun control. Guns are simply a better, faster and more accurate way of throwing a rock. Guns don't kill people, people kill people and they've been doing it since they first set foot on planet Earth. Why? I'm not sure, but I want to close with a couple of ideas for you to think about.
These ideas are from books that I have read. The following passage comes from "Proof of Heaven A Neurosurgeon's Journey into the Afterlife" by Eben Alexander, M.D. Dr. Alexander had absolutely no belief in life after death, until he had his own near death experience. The passage is just one of the things he was told while in the presence of the Creator. He refers to God as Om, and the orb is his guardian.
"Through the Orb, Om told me that there is not one universe but many--in fact, more than I could conceive--but that love lay at the center of them all. Evil was present in all the other universes as well, but only in the tiniest trace amounts. Evil was necessary because without it free will was impossible, and without free will there could be no growth--no forward movement, no chance for us to become what God longed for us to be. Horrible and all-powerful as evil sometimes seemed to be in a world like ours, in the larger picture love was overwhelmingly dominant, and it would ultimately be triumphant."
The next passage is from my memory, I've obviously loaned the book out because it wasn't in the stack by my chair. It comes from the book "Why I Am A Catholic" by Garry Wills. Mr. Wills is a professor of history emeritus at Northwestern University according to the inside flap on the cover of another one of his books and the last time I emailed him, he was still there. He also took his doctorate in the classics and taught ancient and New Testament Greek at Johns Hopkins University. Through this latter detail, of being a translator of the old Greek language, Mr. Wills has shed new light on what some of the words actually meant, before being translated into the Kings James version of the New Testament.
So here is the way Garry Wills translates the first part of the Lord's prayer. Please remember, this is from my memory, which yesterday wasn't working worth a hoot, I hope I do Mr. Wills justice:
Our Father of the Heavens,
Your title be honored,
Your reign arrive,
Your design be fulfilled,
On earth, as in Heaven.
I am not preaching, nor am I Catholic, I just enjoy books on different religious beliefs. The thoughts I want to leave you with are these: If the design of the Creator hasn't come to completion, then we must have a ways yet to go. Even though it seems that there is an awful lot of evil things going on, we need to try to wrap our heads around the fact that evil is a necessary element. Lastly, if love wins the game, that is where we plant our hope.
If you don't believe in God or a higher power, that's fine too, you'll be the most surprised.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Maybe Tomorrow
I've spent the greater part of three hours wandering. I've wandered from room to room, outside a couple of times, then back in to wander some more.
I do dislike being unorganized, but seem to be in a constant state of it. I see those advertisements for organization, which usually consists of numerous baskets in which to put stuff. I need some for my brain. Little brain organizing baskets, I could stack them in my frontal lobe like rolls of toilet paper. Then I could pilfer through each basket, admiring how organized I have become. That might eliminate my wandering, but at least I'm getting some kind of exercise.
I'm trying to pinpoint the exact cause of my disorganization. I have a ton of stuff to do, but it seems I just think about doing it. It may be because I'm trying to redo a schedule that I have followed for years.
I've always gotten up early, dressed, with my beloved shoes on, hair fixed, etc., before I ever leave the bedroom. I don't know what it is about shoes, but mine are on my feet all day long, they don't come off until I'm back in the bedroom, getting ready for bed.
It might have something to do with taking on a couple of other projects, one involving a small blonde haired, blue eyed 3 year old little girl. My youngest granddaughter is now staying with me three mornings each week. She is a delight and I figure once I get used to the change, she will be an endless source of fun information.
Right now though, with Dora the Explorer droning in the background, all I want to do is sing "The Map" song.
I let the Queen in the house too. She would like to sit on my desk and watch me, but since it is once again covered with endless amounts of paper and 4 days worth of mail, she has commenced to walking on my keyboard. I thought maybe she would make more sense than me, but her words are obviously written in a feline code and are undecipherable.
If I can find my notebook, I will make a list. That always seems to help. The first thing I should probably put on it is, "fix hair" because, as my wonderful Aunt Lela used to say, "it looks like the cats have been sucking on it."
Maybe tomorrow, yeah tomorrow, I'll be better.
I'll put that on my list, "better tomorrow", and follow it up with, "good luck with that."
I do dislike being unorganized, but seem to be in a constant state of it. I see those advertisements for organization, which usually consists of numerous baskets in which to put stuff. I need some for my brain. Little brain organizing baskets, I could stack them in my frontal lobe like rolls of toilet paper. Then I could pilfer through each basket, admiring how organized I have become. That might eliminate my wandering, but at least I'm getting some kind of exercise.
I'm trying to pinpoint the exact cause of my disorganization. I have a ton of stuff to do, but it seems I just think about doing it. It may be because I'm trying to redo a schedule that I have followed for years.
I've always gotten up early, dressed, with my beloved shoes on, hair fixed, etc., before I ever leave the bedroom. I don't know what it is about shoes, but mine are on my feet all day long, they don't come off until I'm back in the bedroom, getting ready for bed.
It might have something to do with taking on a couple of other projects, one involving a small blonde haired, blue eyed 3 year old little girl. My youngest granddaughter is now staying with me three mornings each week. She is a delight and I figure once I get used to the change, she will be an endless source of fun information.
Right now though, with Dora the Explorer droning in the background, all I want to do is sing "The Map" song.
I let the Queen in the house too. She would like to sit on my desk and watch me, but since it is once again covered with endless amounts of paper and 4 days worth of mail, she has commenced to walking on my keyboard. I thought maybe she would make more sense than me, but her words are obviously written in a feline code and are undecipherable.
If I can find my notebook, I will make a list. That always seems to help. The first thing I should probably put on it is, "fix hair" because, as my wonderful Aunt Lela used to say, "it looks like the cats have been sucking on it."
Maybe tomorrow, yeah tomorrow, I'll be better.
I'll put that on my list, "better tomorrow", and follow it up with, "good luck with that."
Monday, January 13, 2014
Changes
Life is full of changes. Life changes, I call them.
Most of us don't like change, we would like things to stay the same, depending on the circumstances. If your life is not going to well, then you would welcome a change for the better, but when things seem to be going our way, we want them to stay that way for eternity.
As a parent, I suppose one of the biggest life changes is becoming a parent. For most parents, it was an instant change. From the second a new child is put in your arms, you know without a doubt, that life will never be the same again. Now granted, there are some who were not whacked on the head with the "parenthood" wand when their child was born, but for the most part, most of us were.
We welcome the changes that come from raising a child. Watching them learn to crawl, talk, walk and run and the majority of parents are pretty sure their child is the only child learning these extraordinary skills.
Then one day, we realize that this child is no longer a person who needs our every moment, that it is time for them to be their own person, try out their wings and leave the nest.
I remember Mother telling a story about when my oldest sister, Lela left the nest. She helped her settle into a new apartment and when Mother got back into the car she burst into tears and told my Dad that "things would never be the same again." She was right and of course it didn't help that when they had got about two miles down the road, Mother had discovered she had left her purse behind. I'm sure that Dad probably muttered something under his breath, since she was quite proficient at leaving her purse somewhere other than where it should have been, and back they went. She ran in to the apartment, grabbed her purse and ran out, but she wasn't so quick as to not notice that Lela was sitting in a chair, crying too.
Life changes can be subtle. Like walking naked past a full length mirror and realizing that your body, for some reason, doesn't look much like it did when you were twenty something. That eye opening moment usually brings about the fact that there needs to be some changes made, either exercise or diet, vow to never be naked again, or get rid of the mirror.
A new job or occupation can be an exciting life change, just as losing that job can be a devastating one.
Losing someone is a huge life change. Whether the loss comes from someone deciding they just don't give a rat's butt anymore and leaving to someone walking through death's door, the hole they leave behind will never be completely filled. It's a change that we are never quite prepared for, but it's important to realize, it was a change for them too.
Life changes begin from the moment we draw our first breath to the time we take our last. Without these changes, nothing would change. There would be no moving forward without them and forward is where we need to go.
Most of us don't like change, we would like things to stay the same, depending on the circumstances. If your life is not going to well, then you would welcome a change for the better, but when things seem to be going our way, we want them to stay that way for eternity.
As a parent, I suppose one of the biggest life changes is becoming a parent. For most parents, it was an instant change. From the second a new child is put in your arms, you know without a doubt, that life will never be the same again. Now granted, there are some who were not whacked on the head with the "parenthood" wand when their child was born, but for the most part, most of us were.
We welcome the changes that come from raising a child. Watching them learn to crawl, talk, walk and run and the majority of parents are pretty sure their child is the only child learning these extraordinary skills.
Then one day, we realize that this child is no longer a person who needs our every moment, that it is time for them to be their own person, try out their wings and leave the nest.
I remember Mother telling a story about when my oldest sister, Lela left the nest. She helped her settle into a new apartment and when Mother got back into the car she burst into tears and told my Dad that "things would never be the same again." She was right and of course it didn't help that when they had got about two miles down the road, Mother had discovered she had left her purse behind. I'm sure that Dad probably muttered something under his breath, since she was quite proficient at leaving her purse somewhere other than where it should have been, and back they went. She ran in to the apartment, grabbed her purse and ran out, but she wasn't so quick as to not notice that Lela was sitting in a chair, crying too.
Life changes can be subtle. Like walking naked past a full length mirror and realizing that your body, for some reason, doesn't look much like it did when you were twenty something. That eye opening moment usually brings about the fact that there needs to be some changes made, either exercise or diet, vow to never be naked again, or get rid of the mirror.
A new job or occupation can be an exciting life change, just as losing that job can be a devastating one.
Losing someone is a huge life change. Whether the loss comes from someone deciding they just don't give a rat's butt anymore and leaving to someone walking through death's door, the hole they leave behind will never be completely filled. It's a change that we are never quite prepared for, but it's important to realize, it was a change for them too.
Life changes begin from the moment we draw our first breath to the time we take our last. Without these changes, nothing would change. There would be no moving forward without them and forward is where we need to go.
Friday, January 10, 2014
What's The Answer?
Anyone who owns their own business will probably agree with this next statement. The business owns you. At the end of the day, when the employees go home, if there is something that needs attended to, it's usually the owners responsibility.
I was reading an article about the minimum wage needing to be raised to $10 an hour. In this day and age, that's not a lot of money, unless it's your first job, then it seems like a fortune.
As much as I dislike math, I'm going to try something here, to convey a thought, somewhere in the back of my grey matter, to the screen that I'm starring at.
A 40 hour work week at $8.25 an hour for 52 weeks is roughly a little over $17,000 a year......before taxes. After taxes it's about $14,000, not quite, but for the sake of simplicity I'll try to round up or down to the closest bunch of zeros.
So here's a small business with 10 employees and each employee makes $8.25 an hour. The company makes a widget that is quite useful and everyone thinks they need one, so business is pretty good. The owners of the company love their employees and treat them fairly, even providing a week or two paid vacation for each employee. Everybody works a forty hour week, Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., and has the weekends off.
At the end of the year, the small business has paid out a bit more than $137,000 in wages and the taxes on those wages amounted to a little over $34,000. The company withholds those taxes from the employee's wages and pays them so the employee doesn't have to mess with it and because it's just one of the company's requirements by the government.
Now here is something a lot of people don't know. Not only did the company withhold those payroll taxes and make sure they were accounted for and paid, which takes lots of time and paperwork or they must pay someone else to do it for them, the company had to match some of those taxes.
What?!?
Yes, the company has to match whatever the employee is taxed on Social Security and Medicare. Plus, the company has to pay for workman's compensation and unemployment. Why is this? I'm not sure, it has more to do with the government. The best analogy I can come up with is when a parent looks at a child and says, "Well, that's just the way it is."
The workman's compensation tax rate varies due to the particular occupation and the history of the business. Same for the unemployment tax rate.
When a business owner hears someone say they are drawing unemployment because they have paid into it for years, umm....nope, not so much. The company pays into it.
So back to this small business. Not only did they take care of all the employee taxes, they paid nearly an extra $20,000 in taxes and insurances, just for having employees.
Now they are going to raise their employee's wages to $10 an hour. At years end, the wages paid are around $166,000, the taxes on those wages are about $42,000 and what the company has to match and provide jumped to about $23,000.
The company realizes that they are going to have to raise the price of their widget. Consumers see the price hike and decide they can actually live without it and sales begin to decline. The company is faced with two options, lose money or layoff employees. So much for the raise.
In my illustration, I'm not talking about huge mega corporations or organizations, I'm looking at the small business owner, who's trying to stay afloat in a messy sea. Even though the example was very simple, there was no mention of health insurance cost that many small businesses are now faced with.
What's the answer? I don't know, but without small businesses, the spirit of entrepreneurship dies.
I was reading an article about the minimum wage needing to be raised to $10 an hour. In this day and age, that's not a lot of money, unless it's your first job, then it seems like a fortune.
As much as I dislike math, I'm going to try something here, to convey a thought, somewhere in the back of my grey matter, to the screen that I'm starring at.
A 40 hour work week at $8.25 an hour for 52 weeks is roughly a little over $17,000 a year......before taxes. After taxes it's about $14,000, not quite, but for the sake of simplicity I'll try to round up or down to the closest bunch of zeros.
So here's a small business with 10 employees and each employee makes $8.25 an hour. The company makes a widget that is quite useful and everyone thinks they need one, so business is pretty good. The owners of the company love their employees and treat them fairly, even providing a week or two paid vacation for each employee. Everybody works a forty hour week, Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to 5 p.m., and has the weekends off.
At the end of the year, the small business has paid out a bit more than $137,000 in wages and the taxes on those wages amounted to a little over $34,000. The company withholds those taxes from the employee's wages and pays them so the employee doesn't have to mess with it and because it's just one of the company's requirements by the government.
Now here is something a lot of people don't know. Not only did the company withhold those payroll taxes and make sure they were accounted for and paid, which takes lots of time and paperwork or they must pay someone else to do it for them, the company had to match some of those taxes.
What?!?
Yes, the company has to match whatever the employee is taxed on Social Security and Medicare. Plus, the company has to pay for workman's compensation and unemployment. Why is this? I'm not sure, it has more to do with the government. The best analogy I can come up with is when a parent looks at a child and says, "Well, that's just the way it is."
The workman's compensation tax rate varies due to the particular occupation and the history of the business. Same for the unemployment tax rate.
When a business owner hears someone say they are drawing unemployment because they have paid into it for years, umm....nope, not so much. The company pays into it.
So back to this small business. Not only did they take care of all the employee taxes, they paid nearly an extra $20,000 in taxes and insurances, just for having employees.
Now they are going to raise their employee's wages to $10 an hour. At years end, the wages paid are around $166,000, the taxes on those wages are about $42,000 and what the company has to match and provide jumped to about $23,000.
The company realizes that they are going to have to raise the price of their widget. Consumers see the price hike and decide they can actually live without it and sales begin to decline. The company is faced with two options, lose money or layoff employees. So much for the raise.
In my illustration, I'm not talking about huge mega corporations or organizations, I'm looking at the small business owner, who's trying to stay afloat in a messy sea. Even though the example was very simple, there was no mention of health insurance cost that many small businesses are now faced with.
What's the answer? I don't know, but without small businesses, the spirit of entrepreneurship dies.
Thursday, January 9, 2014
Comport
The grocery getting trip was certainly interesting. Either I have been in the house too long, have stepped over the threshold of little tolerance or I'm just getting crotchety. Unfortunately, it may be the latter of above mentioned ailments.
My tolerance meter seemed to bottom out while shopping when I had to endure two sales clerks following a shopper with a small child in their cart. That doesn't sound like a big deal, they obviously knew each other and where having a conversation, albeit a very loud conversation. The clerks were teasing the child, not in a mean way, just enough to get a reaction and when the reaction happened everyone burst into loud raucous laughter. I reminded myself to not be so snarky, a word that has come into play quite frequently in recent days, and continued my shopping.
Since I had waited long enough between shopping excursions, I needed a lot of groceries, which meant I was going to have to peruse every isle in the store. So did this team of happy people. I tried to slow down my pace, as to put some distance between us, but it didn't work. I crossed paths a time or two with an older couple, we exchanged glances and pleasant smiles and continued on.
I was in the store approximately 40 minutes and had to endure this celebration of fun the entire time. When I finally exited the store I was thinking maybe the local bar would be my next stop. As I approached my car, the older couple I had passed earlier were parked next to me, loading their groceries. I smiled and told them I guessed I was just feeling mean, because no one seemed to know how to act in public anymore. The gentlemen's response was, "Yeah, that was kind of annoying, wasn't it." At least I wasn't alone in my observations.
The next stop was filled with more loud chatter about body piercings. It is said to never go grocery shopping on an empty stomach so as not to purchase unneeded items. Well I had, but by this time I was ready to barf, so I was glad I hadn't eaten.
The word for today on my dictionary app is 'comport'. It's meaning is "to bear or conduct (oneself); behave. There was a huge lack of comportiness going on in the grocery stores yesterday and has embedded even further in my soul to wait again until there are no groceries left in the house, before I venture out into such madness. Money is hard to come by in this day and age, a person should be allowed to rid themselves of it in peace.
Speaking of money, poor Mr. Ty Warner. He's the guy who came up with the "Beanie Babies" and he's in a whole lot of deep do do. It seems he got a bit greedy and didn't pay his taxes. Not only did he not pay them, he didn't report most of his earnings and tucked mucho monies away in Swiss bank accounts. The feds want to put him in jail, even though he is really sorry and can and will pay what he owes. This guy has a net worth of $1.7 billion and I got to wondering just when did the greed factor jump in his head.
I don't know, but somewhere along the road he must have lost his comportiness too.
Then there's the story about the nations' largest bank, JPMorgan having to pay $2.5 billion to settle charges in the Bernie Madoff's huge Ponzi scheme. The bank claims that none of their employees knew what he was doing, so no one should go to jail. Sure, throw the maker of the warm, cuddly, cute, puts smiles on kid's faces, make people collect them by the ton maker of the Beanie Baby under the bus, but not any of these people.
I'm thinking they probably didn't have any comportiness to start with.
My tolerance meter seemed to bottom out while shopping when I had to endure two sales clerks following a shopper with a small child in their cart. That doesn't sound like a big deal, they obviously knew each other and where having a conversation, albeit a very loud conversation. The clerks were teasing the child, not in a mean way, just enough to get a reaction and when the reaction happened everyone burst into loud raucous laughter. I reminded myself to not be so snarky, a word that has come into play quite frequently in recent days, and continued my shopping.
Since I had waited long enough between shopping excursions, I needed a lot of groceries, which meant I was going to have to peruse every isle in the store. So did this team of happy people. I tried to slow down my pace, as to put some distance between us, but it didn't work. I crossed paths a time or two with an older couple, we exchanged glances and pleasant smiles and continued on.
I was in the store approximately 40 minutes and had to endure this celebration of fun the entire time. When I finally exited the store I was thinking maybe the local bar would be my next stop. As I approached my car, the older couple I had passed earlier were parked next to me, loading their groceries. I smiled and told them I guessed I was just feeling mean, because no one seemed to know how to act in public anymore. The gentlemen's response was, "Yeah, that was kind of annoying, wasn't it." At least I wasn't alone in my observations.
The next stop was filled with more loud chatter about body piercings. It is said to never go grocery shopping on an empty stomach so as not to purchase unneeded items. Well I had, but by this time I was ready to barf, so I was glad I hadn't eaten.
The word for today on my dictionary app is 'comport'. It's meaning is "to bear or conduct (oneself); behave. There was a huge lack of comportiness going on in the grocery stores yesterday and has embedded even further in my soul to wait again until there are no groceries left in the house, before I venture out into such madness. Money is hard to come by in this day and age, a person should be allowed to rid themselves of it in peace.
Speaking of money, poor Mr. Ty Warner. He's the guy who came up with the "Beanie Babies" and he's in a whole lot of deep do do. It seems he got a bit greedy and didn't pay his taxes. Not only did he not pay them, he didn't report most of his earnings and tucked mucho monies away in Swiss bank accounts. The feds want to put him in jail, even though he is really sorry and can and will pay what he owes. This guy has a net worth of $1.7 billion and I got to wondering just when did the greed factor jump in his head.
I don't know, but somewhere along the road he must have lost his comportiness too.
Then there's the story about the nations' largest bank, JPMorgan having to pay $2.5 billion to settle charges in the Bernie Madoff's huge Ponzi scheme. The bank claims that none of their employees knew what he was doing, so no one should go to jail. Sure, throw the maker of the warm, cuddly, cute, puts smiles on kid's faces, make people collect them by the ton maker of the Beanie Baby under the bus, but not any of these people.
I'm thinking they probably didn't have any comportiness to start with.
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