The Greatest Ever

     The last few days have been a whirlwind of activity.  First was the move from Raleigh, NC to Atlanta, Georgia....only to find out there was no room at the inn.  At that point I realized I would have never fit the bill to be the Savior's mother because all my sage advice about being positive went straight out the window.  Once we were unpacked it was time to throw some duds in a bag, stuff Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, into his crate...again...and head north on Interstate 75.  

     Juan, my husband's co-worker, had traveled the miles to the peach state with us, following the work.  Juan's cousin, Pablo, had made the decision to stay behind and stay closer to family.  My husband told me that since Juan would be alone for the Christmas weekend, he was going to ask him if he would like to join us for the trip to Illinois and share Christmas with our families.  Juan gladly accepted the invitation and under the cover of a starlit sky, we sped out of Atlanta before the majority of its populous had awakened.

     We had three Christmas events to attend in two days.  The first was Christmas Eve, when we celebrate with my husbands' family.  We always hosted this event, but since there is a new family living under our Bird City roof, we thought they might not be prepared if thirty some odd people showed up at the front door, unannounced. My husband's youngest niece stepped up to the plate and boldly went where she had never been before and took the family gathering challenge.  She handled it like she had been doing this sort of thing for ever.  

     After the meal was served, the family gathered in the front room and the gifts were distributed.  The look on Juan's face, when he was handed a brightly wrapped package, was priceless.  The tradition for this bunch is to start the unwrapping with the youngest member going first.  As each person took their turn, age wise, it came time for Juan to open his.  He had been standing just inside the doorway to the adjoining room.  Juan stepped inside the room full of people he had just met and began to speak.  Silence fell across the room and every ear was tuned into his story.  Juan thanked everyone for inviting him and for treating him like he was family.  He then told how much he missed his own family and his two little bambinos.  I watched as tears began to fill his eyes, and then I turned to look at the rest of family........ there was not a dry eye in the place.  

     Everywhere we went, there was an unexpected gift waiting for Juan.  When we arrived back in Georgia, early in the evening of the 26th, we told Juan how glad we were, that he had gone with us.  He told us that was the very first time, in his life, that he had received a gift at a Christmas gathering where all the family actually showed up. He followed that statement up with this one....."It was the greatest time of my life!"

     May we find true treasure and blessings in the small things in life.

All Wrapped Up

     Tis' the season for glitter and tinsel, sparkling lights and garland,
village and Nativity scenes on the mantel and brightly wrapped packages under the tree.

     I've been wrapping like a crazy woman and not one thing I have wrapped so far is a gift.  Our journey here in North Carolina has come to an end.  It is time to move on to the next adventure in the peach state of Georgia.  

     Moving means packing and I have been busy wrapping plates, dishes and glasses, along with thinking paper plates and Solo cups are a wise choice.  It is weird to be doing this at Christmas time. This is the first time in six decades that I have not had a tree, a tree that would have nearly 4000 lights on it.  That's a lot of lights and it would literally keep the furnace from kicking on.  There are no Nativity scenes, gracing every flat surface I could find, or  miles of garland draped around each room.  For the first time in forever, the front hall stairway could be bare as a bone.....and I'm OK with that. I'm also OK with not having to put all that stuff away.

     Christmas time means a lot of things, but the most important is the gift of love.  We have made many new friends in this place and we love them all.  It will be hard saying good-bye and already, many a tear has been shed.  We will miss them and they will miss us, but the love we have shared will last a lifetime.

     After we unpack in Georgia, we plan to journey home for the holidays. There waits one of the greatest gifts of love,  the family.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, maybe we will see you when we are back.  I hear it is rather frigid in the land of Lincoln, so I will be digging out the heavy coats, so we can stay all wrapped up.

Now I Understand

     Ten thousand this, ten thousand that.  What on earth were they talking about?  I pondered this question as I listened to the chatter going on between several people.  Finally I figured out they were talking about steps.  Not stair steps, but walking steps that humans do each day.  The goal for each individual is 10,000 steps.

     In order to keep track of these steps, one needs a gadget, to wear, much like a wrist watch......most kids don't even know what that is...and said gadget will count all the steps one makes in a day.
I thought that was rather silly, why not just count the steps in your head, but the wearers of such gadgetry seem to be on a constant vigil to make sure they attain the golden number of steps.  I have even heard people talking to their gadget..."Only so many thousand more steps to go!"

     Realizing that I was not getting enough exercise, I decided to start walking. First, I just walked.  My jaunt takes me straight uphill.  Having not  exercised for quite some time, I discovered I could not make it to the top of the hill without having to stop and catch my breath.  Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, comes in handy on this walk because he likes to stop and sniff anything that catches his attention and it makes me look like I'm just out taking the dog for a walk.  On the times I left him at home, I had to stop along side the road.....three times...... and willingly accept the fact that I was really out of shape.  Then I had the splendid idea of counting my steps.  Surely ten thousand steps was not that big of a deal.  When I got to the top of the hill and counted off the last 100 steps, I could not remember if it was 800 or 900.  I decided to just figure how long it took to walk so many steps and divide that into the entire time I walked.  My grand total seemed to be somewhere around 3000 steps.  

     That meant I would need to walk this route a little more than three times a day.  Good grief, I thought to myself, who has time for that?  I had things to do.....didn't I?

     My new young friend Jazzy, being impressed with my walking habit, grabbed my phone the other evening and said, "Let's put an app on your phone that will count your steps!" I agreed to that and we found one for free that even counts steps made throughout the house.  

     The first day I had walked 4319 steps.  I had burned a whopping 206 calories.  I had traveled 1.7 miles.  I had been active 48 minutes.......I had been physically active less than an hour.....for the whole day.  If that was not bad enough, the smart-alec app had the audacity to tell me I was SEDENTARY and then followed that insult up with two words: Do More.

     So, now I understood why people talked to their step counting gadgets.  I will show that smarty pants app a thing or two....and... from now on, just to get it over with first, I will always eat crow as an appetizer.

Lights, Camera, Action!

     The amenities city life has to offer are many.  Supermarkets that hold vast varieties of foods, big box stores for home improvement or wardrobe improvement, auto repair and tire shops, furniture stores, endless mattress shops and a veterinary clinic on every corner.  The best advantage to city life is, most of these things are within a few blocks of home.  

     Another amenity is the movie theater.  Going to the movies was something my husband and I rarely did.  I suppose the main reason for that was, because it took at least a 40 minute drive to find a theater.  

     Since we have a movie theater, almost within walking distance from our humble abode, we decided to go see the movie "Ben-Hur".  Remember, it had been a long time since we had gone to the movies, so imagine our surprise when the ticket lady asked us what seats we would like.  We had no idea and had her pick a couple of seats, one being on the isle.  As we walked through the entrance doors to the theater we knew a lot of things had changed.  We had to ask for directions because there are 16 movie screens under one roof and we needed number 8.  Luckily we had eaten before we left and were able to by-pass the food stands.  Long gone are the days of having three choices for a snack at the movies, popcorn, candy and a soft drink.  Now it is possible to dine on an eight course meal along with a glass of wine.

     We entered the dark theater and after our eyes adjusted to the low light, made the way up the steps to our seats.  Each row was designated by a small glowing letter and the seats had a glowing number on them.  Our seats were on the front row of the section we where to sit in.  As we set down, we realized there was at least six feet of empty floor space in front of us.  It did not take us long to figure out why....the seats reclined.  My husband was sure that he could not recline his seat all the way for fear of someone tripping over his legs.  I assured him that the good people who designed the theater probably knew what they were doing and there would be plenty of room, past his out stretched legs, to pass.   Then I mentioned that snoring would be frowned upon.  As I settled into my seat, I thought about the theater I went to as a teen and how my feet would stick to the floor because someone had spilled their drink three rows back.

     Forty plus years had come and gone since we had last seen "Ben-Hur".  We had forgotten most of the story matter, but anyone who remembers watching the original, will never forget the chariot race.  The new re-make will not disappoint.

     On the way home we decided that the next time we wanted to go to the movies, it would be safe to wait until closer to the actual viewing time.  That way we would not have to sit through all the previews of the upcoming movies.  Although, during the previews, I found one I thought I would like to see.

     The movie I wanted to see was of a subject matter that my husband would find little interest in.  Stepping way out of my comfort zone, I decided to go see it by myself.  I had been watching the calendar for the movie's opening date and had chosen the early afternoon viewing.  Since I considered myself a seasoned movie goer and so much wiser, I waited until ten minutes before the show was to start before I left the house.  After all, it was right after noon on a Friday, the place could not be that busy.

     As I wheeled into the parking lot from an entrance located behind the theater, my jaw dropped.  The parking lot was packed!
I navigated my way to the far end and finally found a place to park. As I walked across the huge lot, bulging with cars, I was thinking my plan was not looking too good as I could see the line of people at the ticket counter.  Where in the world did all these people and their children come from?  It was Friday!  Why weren't these kids in school?!  It was Friday, Friday the 11th of November.....Veteran's Day....a holiday.

     When I finally got to the ticket counter, the nice lady informed me there were only two seats left.  I told her to pick one and I would be fine with it.  Yes indeed, two seats left.....right smack in the middle of the front row.  I was sure glad to have that reclining seat, otherwise I would still have a crimp in my neck from holding my head back to see the screen.  

     When the movie was over, I'm pretty sure I glowed for a couple of hours from being that close to the screen.  From now on, I will leave a little earlier and check the calendar for upcoming holidays.

Reflections

   

     The founder of Facebook, Mark Zuckerberg and his colleagues, want everyone in the world to have access to the internet.  That is a grandiose dream and plan, but I hope, within the process of achieving such high endeavors, they take the time to teach people how to be kind to each other. 

     After the election, along with the fact that the sun actually rose the next day and the earth did not quit spinning, I realized that I needed to take some time off from social media.  During this sabbatical from drama, I began to reflect about the past few months.  The clock, that we humans so eloquently measure our days upon the earth with, has consistently ticked off the seconds, minutes, hours and days without the least bit of care as to what we, as the human race, are doing......and that got me to thinking about certain inalienable rights that we grow with, believe to be true and pass on to our offspring......

     The older one gets, the faster time goes by....Mother was right about that one.

     Spending a holiday with someone, other than blood relatives, is a good thing.  Especially if they did not have any blood relatives to celebrate with either.

     Procrastination loves company.  Keeping it as a friend will take away second chances, keep dreams just out of reach and cause one to miss that last conversation with a close friend.

     Do not judge others.  It is said that we are judged by the same measure we judge others with.  Think about that.

     Unless you are making enough money to be on an episode of "Lifestyles of the Rich & Famous", learn to live with less and teach your children the same.  Retire in your 30's or 40's, step out of your comfort zone, see the world and meet new people.  No one will remember you because of your living room furniture and big screen TV.

     Live your life.  Take chances.  I've known many people who never stepped outside of the box or put anything unhealthy in their bodies and still died of some nasty disease.  Like it or not, we all have a numbered amount of days, live them like there are only a couple left.

     In a large metropolis, if one has the time, a person could learn a foreign language just by reading the labels in the supermarkets. Aluminum is still aluminum in Spanish. 

     Stretch denim will only stretch so far.


     
    

Weeded Out

     Teaching a child how to weed a garden can be a harrowing experience.  It takes a strong countenance to not show disappointment when the child proudly shows their efforts and the prized tulips are on top of the pile.  Showing them once is usually not enough, it turns into a labor of love and patience.

     Riding along with my young friend, Jazzy, we came to an intersection and the light had turned red.  As we waited for green, Jazzy looked at the vehicle to her left.  She studied the driver, an older, white haired woman, probably somewhere between 60 and 75 years of age.  Jazzy said, so very matter of factly, "That woman should not be driving."  This woman, who did not seem to have a problem herding her SUV down the road, had most likely been driving more years than Jazzy has been breathing.  I replied, "Careful, you'll be that age someday." Then I checked in the mirror to see how much regrowth of grey hair was showing.  

     After the election, there was a chart posted on social media by some people who were not happy with the results.  The chart stated that the majority of young adults, aged 18-25 had voted for Clinton. One person stated this was how the future voted and to keep the flame alive and it was followed by several approving statements made by parents.  
  
     The only way to change a nation is to start with the youth.  Massive upheavals in what people believe do not change in sixteen years, it takes a generation.  How long is that?  The Bible tells the story of the Israelite's coming to the land that had been promised to them.  The trouble was, there where giants that lived there and the people who were old enough to go to battle and take the country were afraid.  So, they had to wander in the desert.  Not so much as punishment, but to weed out, or die off, the non-believers. Then, the time was used to teach and encourage the youth that they could do it and the process took 40 years.

     Today's youth are stuck in their cell phones.  There are children as young as eight who have a cell phone along with internet connection.  There are scores of young people on Facebook, even though a person is supposed to be 18 years old to open an account. Sadly, most of the parents are on their phone too. If they believe they know what their children are doing on their phones, they are sadly mistaken.  All children come to a point in their lives that makes them believe their parents are not the sharpest crayon in the box.  When that mindset kicks in and they are unrestrained from the vast amount of information sitting in the palm of their hand, who do you think they are going to talk to?   

     My point to all of this is, who is teaching and changing the country's youth.  What will they think is acceptable in 40 years and do their parents really understand just how old they, themselves, will be in that length of time.  Will they be willing to give up their driver's license because 'anyone over 60 should not be driving' has in fact become a believable truth?   If the population needs to be controlled, who will be the first to go? Grandma?  Hogwash?  That sort of thing doesn't happen?  Go ask a twenty-something year old if the milk is okay past the expiration date.

     With a little research, the above stated chart turned out not to be factual.  Since so many people live with the idea that, if it was on Facebook, it surely must be true, I decided to use it anyway.  I will not worry about what it will be like in 40 years.  If I'm not dead by that time, I hope to be windsurfing somewhere warm. But in the meantime, just to be safe, I'm going to hop in the little black truck, drive it like I stole it and go buy some hair color. 

     

The Gift

"Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day.  Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime."  (origin highly contested)

     Beaver Lake (aka Pond Biggie) may only be a man-made catch basin, but it is teaming with life.  There are scores of turtles and one of those, a snapping turtle, looks to have the circumference of a snow saucer.  The surface of the water is alive with several species of water fowl and its shallows provide many a meal for the Belted Kingfish and the Great Blue Heron.  

     Below the ripples live a variety of fish and although I had been told there were some big ones in there, I had yet to see the proof.  The other day while scanning the lake, I noticed on the far side, the water looked like it was boiling.  Grabbing my trusty binoculars, another treasure from home, I zeroed in on what was causing this disturbance.  What I'd been told was true.  There, before my eyes, was a school of some ma-honkin' grass carp, the size of which I had not seen for a long time.  They all seemed to be at least two feet in length.  Having not fished in quite awhile, I was thinking I sure wished I had a fishing pole.  

     Wanting a closer look, with binoculars in tow, I headed out the door.  On my way to the far side of the lake, I came across Juan and Pablo, our new friends and co-workers with my husband.  Since it was about quitting time, Juan came with me to get a closer look at the fish.  He was as excited as I was and before too long, one of the supervisors had joined us and we all talked about how much fun it would be to catch one of those 'bad boys'.

     About thirty minutes after I had arrived back at the apartment, there was a knock on the door.  My husband went to answer and when I turned around, in walked Juan and Pablo with brand new fishing poles!  The supervisor, after hearing the banter about fishing, had gone to the nearest big box store and purchased the equipment for them.  Juan is 33 years old and Pablo is 27, but they looked like a couple of  10 year old boys with their new gifts. What was even better, they did not have a clue how to use them!

     We sat on the patio and both watched as I laced the line up through the eyelets on the pole, tied a swivel clip on the end, added some weight and attached a hook.  Then we were off to the pond.

     Juan speaks English, something he taught himself, but Pablo does not. The only way they knew how to fish was with a gig.  It began to look like a game of charades as I demonstrated how to hold the button down on the reel, lean back, cast and release the button on the follow through.  I explained to Juan that the way I liked to fish was after the cast, set the pole down, take the slack out of the line and wait for the bite.  I also told him I had yet to see a member of the human male species, regardless of age, be able to do this for more than 60 seconds.  Juan translated for Pablo and when they were satisfied with this new information, each took a pole and a place on the bank.

     I do not think I have laughed so hard as I did watching two grown men trying to cast a rod and reel for the first time.  Their first attempts were met with the baited hook slamming into the ground a few feet in front of them.  The next few actually got in the water, about a foot from the bank.  Between their own fits of laughter, they finally began to get the feel for it and the casts were going further and further out.  

     Then it started.......cast out....reel in.....move down the bank.... and repeat....it must just be a "guy thing".  

     Did they catch one of the monster carp?  No.  Pablo caught a sunfish, that measured a whopping 1 1/2 inches long and Juan caught a pillow, but the gift of  fishing poles sure made for a splendid afternoon.

      


     

The Incongruous Cormorant

     Of all the things that seemed important, one was a book.  A small field guide of Illinois birds.  Its pages have been turned and returned many times and the cover is nearly loose from its spine.
Funny thing about birds, they do not know there are state lines, or boundaries, and fly wherever they wish.

     The return trip was greeted with a wonderful sight.  Bluebirds.  Eastern Bluebirds, which makes sense, North Carolina is definitely east.  The trees beyond the patio were full of them, busily scouring the pine needles in search of a tasty morsel.

     The pond, Beaver Lake....silly city names, had a new visitor.  It was an odd looking avian and the pages of the field guide began to flutter.  Found it......a Double Crested Cormorant.  Not the fairest of birds to admire and its Latin name literally means "Sea Crow".  The field guide stated that the Double Crested Cormorant will strike a pose with wings outstretched, facing the sun, to dry off. It also said they are often seen flying in a large V-formation and roosting in large groups in trees near water.  Not this incongruous Cormorant, this one is a loner.

     He shows up early each morning, when the water is empty of all activity.  He dives for breakfast, staying under the surface for nearly 20 seconds and resurfaces far from his initial entry.  Then, he waits, and he waits, and he waits.  

     He waits for the geese, the Canadian honkers, to come and break the smooth surface of the water with many a beating wing and the occasional plop of a failed landing.  Sometimes he waits for hours, but he is patient and almost seems excited at their arrival.  Because then it is time for some fun.

     The incongruous Cormorant likes to play "Duck, Duck, Goose" and takes full advantage of the last word in the game.  He disappears from sight and comes up under as many unsuspecting geese as possibly possible.  Their reaction is as hilarious as his antics.

     Then, this  brown bird with the long snake-like neck,  does something that is truly incongruous.... he stays.  He stays all day, with the geese.  He swims with them, and sits on the bank with them.  Sometimes he stands with wings stretched out to the sun and the geese do not seem to mind.  They seem to have forgotten his most unfavorable game of goosing a goose.

     Just before sunset, the geese began to gather in formation and fly out of Beaver Lake, always heading to the north.  When the water is still and the incongruous Cormorant is satisfied they are not coming back, he takes flight.  It takes him three revolutions around the perimeter of this water hole to gain enough elevation to clear the surrounding trees.  On the third turn, he always heads to the east.

     Where he comes from or where he goes is anyone's guess.  Maybe he decided he needed a new set of friends.  Perhaps he had always aspired to be a goose.  Whatever the reason, this drab colored Sea Crow does not see any racial lines drawn between himself and the rest of the bird world.
   

GUBU

     Next week it will all be over.  Although I do not like politics, I have come across a couple of things that have me quite perplexed.

     The first is the fact that members of congress have been privy to insider trading information.  How can this be right?  How can this be justified?  Is this what happens when one gets to Washington and begins to cater to high profiles who then pass on information about an up and coming stock that will probably take off like a rocket?  Is this why their net worth is so high?  I find this extremely unsettling and I would hope that others would too.  Maybe it is time to let our elected know that we really can get our nose out of our phones and pay attention.  But, maybe that is just a crazy thought and they know we will not take the time.

     The second thing is a video I watched about the voting machines.  Without going into a whole lot of technical jargon, that I would not understand anyway, I will put it into the best layman terms I can come up with.  The machine was given nine votes.  Seven of those were yes and the other two were nay.  There is a special card that is inserted into the machine to read and count the votes.  After the card was inserted, the machine printed the outcome.  Seven no votes and two yays.  One of the female ballot casters, who had volunteered for this, sat down and cried.  She was totally in shock and disbelief that this was even possible.  She said that when common people try to explain that these kind of things are really happening, they are labeled conspiracy theorist and mocked.  What she had witnessed with her own eyes, left her feeling ill.  I understood her pain.

     A friend, I have always considered family and who now lives in Ireland, shared with me what the good Irish do for their elections. He said votes in Ireland are counted in public, in front of politically interested people, the candidates and their staff.  He said it is a big deal to get involved and that it keeps citizens in contact with the democratic process.  Their government tried to force voting machines on the people some years ago, but the people resisted their introduction and the machines were eventually sent to recycling.  He said the government wasted millions of dollars, but in the end it had the best result.  I think this is sounding like an excellent idea for things on this side of the pond.

     He also shared with me that the Irish had a word they used when politics got out of hand.  GUBU, it stands for grotesque, unbelievable, bizarre and unprecedented and it just might become a new catch phrase here in the good ole' USA.

     So, to end on a lighter note, here is a new petition I thought might come in handy for the next election...."We the people, here, therefore and what the hell ever, do declare that from hither on, or this point forward from this date on, to infinity and beyond, have decided with sound mind and maybe some croutons, that all candidates for any election from this point hither on, can only state what their freaking plan is and, with out a doubt, nothing more. They cannot from now, or forfreakingever, say one nasty comment about their opponent.  Therefore from this point forward, to infinity and beyond, no order of dirt or otherwise unsightly crapola can be mentioned about or thrown in the direction of, said stated above opponent."

     Happy voting.

The Long Good Bye

     As the work that brought us to the rolling hills of North Carolina comes to an end, the decision was made to "go where the work takes you".  With this decision, came another one.  One a bit more difficult, renting the house back home.  With this reality staring me in the face, I knew another long road trip was resting on the horizon of my life.

     I left, with Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier in tow, in the early morning hours.  The wispy outer remnants of Hurricane Matthew provided little comfort as it cast a heavy mist from Raleigh to the western edge of the state.  It was five hours later, at about 7:30 in the morning and across the Smokey Mountains, before the sky gave the slightest hint that daylight was somewhere up ahead.

     We drove straight through, again, something I said I would never do, again.  Well, Runtly did not actually do any driving, but when we neared the border between Kentucky and Illinois, he thought he was brave enough to sit in the front seat, instead of his small crate.  We had made one last stop for fuel and a pit stop and when we got back to the car, the front passenger seat was his choice.  We discussed this idea, with me telling him I did not think it would work, but his face told a different story.  We made it about one mile down the interstate when he began to shake and shiver.  I glanced in the rear view mirror and calculated I had just enough time to do a "fire drill" before the approaching traffic caught up with us.  I pulled to the side, grabbed the Runt, jumped out, opened the back door and stuffed him in his box.....slammed the door, jumped back into the driver's seat and away we went.  At least it was some good exercise to loosen up the joints, that had become achy and stiff, from lack of movement.

     Pulling into our home town, I saw the new construction for a new business coming in.  It made me sad because I knew it had a very high rate of success at putting another business out of business.  I turned the corner and made my way up the street that led to the house.  

     I had eight days to complete my mission.  I spent the first two walking from one room to the next, wondering where to start and  I exited each room with a heavy sigh.    

     By the third day, the kids showed up and the adrenaline kicked in.  We went through years of items that had absolutely no real use or value.  Some I kept, some I sold and most were donated.  We rolled with fits of laughter when the top popped off the box of old photos and pictures of my 'big hair' era skidded across the floor.  

     Eight days turned into ten and the time had come to head back east.  Even though we had spent the last few days saying goodbye, it was time for the real deal.  There were many tears and hugs that I did not want to end, then I sent them on their way.  There was one last thing to do before I left, and I needed to do it alone.  I watched as they loaded into their vehicles and drove away, knowing all of our tears were still falling.  

     I walked back into the house.  It was so empty that my footsteps echoed against the bare walls.  It was just a last minute check, to make sure I had left nothing behind.  I already knew I had not, but I just needed to walk, one more time, through the rooms that had been my constant for 58 years.  Then I picked up a small white box, walked out and locked the back door.

     Inside the box were the ashes of a beloved pet.  Pussycat.  She had roamed the back yard for nearly seventeen years.  It was her kingdom.  Taking out the plastic bag, I let her ashes fall into all the places she had claimed as her own.  Through the garden, under the hostas, where she spent many a sunny day, around the garden pond and down the long hedge, whose many birds gave her a chance to hone her feline skills.

     It was a long good bye.

No Going Back?

     In six decades, I have seen many changes, as most people my age and above will attest to.  I started out watching television on a black and white TV set.  I also served as the remote control when Dad wanted to change the channel.   There were only two channels to choose from, unless the atmosphere and the antenna were just right, then there were three.    I played outside for as long as possible and roamed the entire neighborhood without a care, or fear, in the world.  Our first telephone was a party line and my best friends' phone number was 8....please do not ask me what I had for lunch yesterday.

     In school, the curriculum included such subjects as how to address an envelope, how to introduce yourself, or someone else, to another person, how to write in cursive and how to be polite.  When it was time for P.E., we actually changed our clothes and exercised   our bodies with great gusto, running races, touching our toes or doing somersaults on a mat. 

     When I was old enough to get a job, I was taught by the owner of the establishment, what was expected of me and how to perform whatever duty I was assigned.  If the job, and there were many, included working with the public, I learned early on the cardinal rule was, "the customer is always right"....even if they were not.

     Fast forwarding to the present, there are few people who do not have a television, most of which are the new flat screen models, and they have over 300 channels to choose from on just about any topic the mind can fathom.  If you happen to have a TV that is shaped like a large square and weighs a ton, no one wants it, even if it's placed out on the curb with a "free" sign taped to the screen. 

     Few, if any, people have a land line phone and most young children would not even know what one was, let alone how to use it.  The cell phone has become an extension of ourselves and many believe it is as valuable as two arms and ten fingers.  It has literally become a new body part.  I still cannot get used to the people who use the headsets for their phone.  When I grew up, anytime you saw someone standing around talking to themselves, it was a good idea to go in the opposite direction.  Then there are the drivers on their phones.    I thought it was scary, back in my rural area I call home, to meet cars on the road with the driver looking down at their lap. Here in the city, it is rare to find someone who is actually looking at the road. 

     Standing in the checkout line at a super big box store, I scanned over the rows of people waiting.  If there were 50 people, 45 of them were on their phone.  Many of whom stayed on their phone while placing their items on the counter and continued to chat while the cashier rang up the total.  I watched the young mother and her daughter, who was probably about 7 years old, in front of me.  The mother was in a conversation with some unseen entity with the use of her headset.  She talked the entire time, even when the clerk tried to engage her in a conversation about her shopping experience. She was oblivious to the clerk and to her daughter.  My first thought was how rude she was being and my second thought was the example she was setting.

     The other day, I walked into a small business to purchase two items.  I was the only person in the store except for the young man behind the counter.  He was on his phone, with the speakerphone turned on.  As I stood at the counter, he continued to talk.  He finally walked over to me, smiled, informed me he was talking to his brother and asked what I needed.  I told him what I wanted and as he apologized for being on his phone, he went to grab my items.  I stood patiently, listening to his brother drone on about how his ex had shown up and caused a scene.  The young clerk placed my two items on the counter, apologized again about talking on the phone, stating he did not get to talk to his brother very often, and rang up my items.  I paid, took my goods and left the store while he continued on with his brother.  I guess I should have stomped my feet and demanded his attention.  I should have explained to him what 'customer service' actually meant and lectured him on how lucky he was to have a job, but I did not.  I drove back home with thoughts of what kind of society are we becoming, swirling in my head.  

     No, I do not believe we can go back to a time when technology did not rule our lives and most people would not want to.  But, I do have to go back to the store because when I got home, one of my items was the wrong thing.

        

Letting Go

     There are times in life that seem like there is no where left to go. These can be in the form of many things.  Most often they are in the form of a relationship.  It can be a relationship with a person, that no matter how hard you try, just isn't going anywhere.  It can be a relationship with a job, finances, a home, neighborhood or even a car.  

     When you get to the bottom of the black hole of a relationship, there are two options; stay there and wallow, thinking that it will magically get better, or climb out.

     If we choose the latter, we will discover something that never occurred to us before.  When the decision is made that there is no way but up, we begin to climb.  As we climb, we find hand holds and foot holds to help us.  They have always been there, just waiting to be put to good use.  Why didn't we see them before and how did they get there?  We ponder only briefly on this and keep our focus on the light at the end of the tunnel.

     When we finally emerge into the bright sunlight of life, there to the side of the hole is a large pile of debris.  It is full of all the things we thought we could not do, dreams we let slide by, arguments that were not worth the time, guilt we carried for no reason, tears from being afraid and other people's opinions of ourselves.  But, how did all that stuff get there?

     That is when we take a moment and look back into the hole.   The hand holds and foot holds were made by the very shovel we used to dig with.  We left a way out and did not even realize it. We face the cold hard truth that we put ourselves in there by our own hand, our own thoughts, our own actions and reactions.

     If you feel like you are at the bottom, start climbing.  If you are at the end of your rope, let go and you may find you were just a couple of inches from the ground.  Don't be afraid, don't let fear rule your life.  Don't take the time to put the debris back in the hole, just walk off, let it go and keep looking forward.  You have no idea what you are capable of, keep dreaming and dream big.

Led By The Nose

     Recently, I accompanied my new young friend, Jazzy, to an appointment she had scheduled.  It was over an hour drive, one way and we talked, laughed, zig-zagged through traffic and enjoyed the scenery.  Upon arrival, I decided rather than to stay in the car, I would sit in the waiting area of the establishment to pass the time.

     While watching the people come and go, I encountered four people, in the course of about 40 minutes, with nose rings.  Not the kind that are a small sparkling stone on the side of the nostril, but the kind that looks like a ring, hanging out from under the nose above the upper lip.  It was at this time that I had to remind myself of two things; one, I was in a large metropolis, lots more people equals lots more interesting folks and two, I was getting old.  As I tried not to stare at the person with the rainbow colored hair and giant nose ring setting next to me, another person came up to said person and asked where they got that great looking nose ring.  A new ice breaker for starting a conversation, at least to me.

     Jazzy is a whopping 23 years old and me...well, let's just say, no longer fifty something, but we get along very well....I learn from her and she learns from me. When Jazzy was finished and we were back on the road, I disclosed my shock of the nose ring tsunami I had just encountered.  She grinned and announced that she used to have one too.  I told her I always thought that having a nose ring was a sign of submission or being owned and that I was certainly happy she had got past that particular part of her youth.  She laughed and we enjoyed the ride back.

     Later, I did some research into the ring in the nose and found out that, in different cultures, the nose ring was actually a symbol of beauty, prestige and wealth.  Where I had made my mistake was thinking that it referred to being 'led by the nose', which probably got its origins from ringing a cows' nose.

     The meaning of being led by the nose means 'to control someone and make them do exactly what you want them to do'.

     There has been another shooting by police that turned another city into mass chaos.  Riots, looting, setting fires, throwing objects off of over passes onto innocent drivers and beatings, all done because they were given false information.  Who gave the info? The major news networks.  Why?  That is a good question.

     What is going on behind the scenes of where our country gets its news source?  A little research into who and what owns the major networks may be a shock to many people, but the information is out there if we care to look for it.  Sadly, many will not.  We are content to sit in our favorite chair and put our trust in the evening news.

     It seems we are being spoon fed just exactly what the powers that be want us to know.  We need to wake up.  If we don't, we may find ourselves being led by the nose only to find out that where we are being led is nowhere we want to be.

Not In The Books

     Many moons ago, when I sat behind a small desk in history class, I'm certain that most of my attention was day dreaming out through the window on the far side of the room.  History did not interest me, nor did most of the other subjects, I was simply there because I had to be.  Had I been recommended to start high school at age 30, I would have been a much better student.  One thing I do know for sure, had I been told about the following subject matter, I would have paid a lot more attention.

     I will tell the story in my own words and I assure you, that if you find it hard to believe, the information is out there, if only we look for it.

     At the end of World War 2, when the alliance had defeated the Germans, it was rumored that many of the Nazi's and their followers had escaped to Antarctica.  This exodus had apparently been going on for some time and I have read that it is estimated that more than 200,000 German people could not be accounted for, after the war, along with large portions of their military equipment and U-boats.

     Although the war was over, the United States sent a large armed military group which consisted of ships, submarines and aircraft to Antarctica under the guise of exploration. One of the officers on this trip was Admiral Richard E. Byrd. The deployment was to last for nine months.  Within three to four months, this group headed back after suffering damage and losses.

     They stopped in South America and it was there that Admiral Byrd told the news agencies what he, and many others, had seen.  He said the Germans were indeed there, with a large underground base and they were equipped with flying saucers that could navigate between the North and South Poles in a matter of minutes. He also said the Germans were in the company of extraterrestrial beings.  This was just a few months before the Roswell, New Mexico incident.

     Folks, this isn't fantasy, this is truth.  It's been 70 years since this took place.  Why aren't we told about this?

     Think about this information for awhile.  You can roll your eyes and decide that perhaps I've soaked up too much of the Carolina rays, but I urge you to do your own research and keep an open mind.

     Stay tuned for more, as this is just the beginning of my find. 

     

Brother Bob

     Having jumped into the rabbit hole, or possibly a worm hole, I have come to discover many a weird thing.  Some of the things I have come across excite me and others leave me nearly despondent.

     I feel the need to share, even though it is way out of my realm.  I like to be funny or witty and the material I have come across is anything but.  It is really nothing new, the information is out there if one chooses to search for it.  Of course, when taking a path that is not followed by the masses, discernment is always an important factor to keep in mind, along with the knowledge that a lot of people are going to roll their eyes and shake their heads in dismay.

     As I ponder how best to approach my task of revelations, I decided it was time to try to be funny, if only for awhile.  Rather than wax eloquently about some recent outing where I possibly made a fool out of myself, I shall share with you, one of my favorite jokes.....

     Brother Bob, as his parishioners called him, had started a new church.  The number of his flock were beginning to increase and the one thing Brother Bob did, that was much different than other churches, was to personally conduct interviews with the good folks who wanted to join the church.

     One bright sunny Monday morning, Brother Bob strolled to his office and found three couples in the waiting room all ready for their interviews. There sat Carl & Carole, a couple who had just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary, Bernie & Betty, who had been together nearly twenty years and Johnny & Sally, newlyweds.  

     Brother Bob was not one to waste time or space and proceeded to usher the couples into his office in order to do the interviews all at one time.  He explained the usual things that he expected like being to church on time, putting the right amount of money in the plate and trying hard not to sing out of key.  All the couples seemed to take in the requirements with little fanfare until Brother Bob dropped the last one in their laps.  He explained to them that in order to become a member of the church, they had to abstain from having sex for two weeks from the day of the interview.   

     Believe you me, the room got deathly silent.  Carl & Carole's facial expression never changed, Bernie's eyebrows were more than half way up on his forehead and Johnny & Sally's chins were nearly on the floor.  After a brief time, they all got control of themselves, albeit except for Carl & Carole, agreed to the terms and promised to meet back at Brother Bob's office in two weeks.

     Two weeks later, Brother Bob walked to his office and found all three couples sitting in the waiting area.  Even though Brother Bob was a bit odd at times, he knew when to be discreet.  He took Carl & Carole into his office first.  He asked them if they had been able to abstain for the allotted time and after a small fit of laughter and a couple of snorts, they assured him they had been able to hold out for the two weeks.  Brother Bob welcomed them to the church.

     Next was Bernie & Betty.  They sat down across from Brother Bobs' desk and told him that even though there had been a couple of close moments, they too had been able to abstain.  Brother Bob welcomed them to the church.

     Lastly, Johnny & Sally came into the office.  Brother Bob asked, "Were you able to abstain for the two weeks?"  Johnny hung his head low and said, "No, Brother Bob, we did not.  We tried really hard but one day Sally bent over to pick up a loaf of bread and well, I just couldn't help myself."

     Brother Bob said, "I'm sorry to hear that son, you cannot become a member of the church."

     Johnny replied, "That's OK Brother Bob, I can't go into Kroger anymore either."

     

     

Dear Entertainment World

     Entertainment comes in many forms.  There are sports, movies, endless sitcoms and television series, music and the list goes on and on.  No matter what your preference may be, there is something to choose from to entertain the senses.

     Those of us who enjoy being entertained, pay for it.  Whether it be money spent for tickets or buying a product from a sponsor, the entertainment world get their paychecks from their fans.

     The entertainment world, as a whole, makes up a very small percentage of the populace.  Most of them do not live like the average citizen.  Very few of them know what it is like to live paycheck to paycheck.  Or, to wander the isles of a grocery store, silently adding the total in their head, to make sure they have enough money at the checkout lane.  They do not live in houses that are cold in the winter and hot in the summer.  Most of their children do not attend a public school.  They have many luxuries the rest of the people simply dream about, as the people do their best to make ends meet.

     But, they are paid for their performance and that pay affords them that lifestyle.  The people continue to pay because we need the entertainment.  We like it.  We love it.  It helps us to set aside the worries of the day and simply be entertained. It is what we want.

     What we do not want is your arrogance.  We do not want to see your fact-less opinions on stage, the sidelines, or in an interview.  If you want to throw your hat into the political arena, by all means, do so.  If you want to set your $4000 handbag down on the mud covered ground of a flooded community and sit next to someone who just lost all their possessions, by all means, do so.  If you want to go into a bullet ridden neighborhood because you feel you can make a difference, then get right after it.  If you feel there is so much injustice in this country, then jump in and try to fix it.

     But, if you do not wish to do these things, keep still about it.  Your job is to entertain, nothing more, nothing less.  Don't bite the hand that feeds you.

     

Snake Heads

     We recently had the pleasure of moving........again.  It was not by choice, but rather by necessity.  Our new view looks out over Beaver Lake, so we really can't complain.  Beaver Lake is really more like Beaver Pond and we have yet to see a beaver.  There is, however, a multitude of wildlife around and in Beaver Lake.

     Where there is water, there is life.  I highly doubt the company that started out with this complex stocked the lake with snapping turtles, but they are here.  They probably did stock it with fish and just this morning I saw a good sized one leap from the water, catching whatever unfortunate morsel lay atop the surface.  

     I must admit, the one thing I miss from the other apartment is the birds.  I had a small  bird feeder and many cardinals, nuthatches, pygmy nuthatches, finches and titmice.  I have the feeder hanging out on our new view, but there are none of the birds here.  I'm not sure why that is.  We have a line of trees between us and the water, but they are not as thick and woodsy as our previous backyard view, so that may be the reason.  On two separate occasions, I had seen a red shouldered hawk land in that small forest with a snake in its beak.  It would call out several times and soon its mate would fly in, take the snake and fly off.  The snakes were not huge, maybe a foot long and silver looking in color.

     I walked Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, along one bank of Beaver Lake the other day.  The grass is a bit taller there than the well manicured lawns next to the buildings. Someone had left a pair of long black socks in the grass and I did a double take before springing into launch mode but Runtly did not see them......until the return trip.  It is amazing how instincts kick into gear with animals.  He has never seen a snake, but he sure thought that is what the socks were and he gave them a wide berth while the hair on his back stood straight up.

     The other morning, as I was admiring the view, I spotted a small silvery head poking out of the water.  It would go one direction,   turn and  then zig zag back.  I watched it for several minutes until it was out of my line of vision and wondered if it had slithered up the bank.  The next time I looked out, there was a whole herd of snake heads on the water!  I had never seen anything like it!  They seemed to be swimming in formation.  My thoughts ran back to a conversation I had overheard, about one of the workers who thought they had a snake problem.  I was beginning to think perhaps they did and I should take extra care the next time I walked the dog down there.

     Still standing in awe of this snakeish phenomenon and getting ready to holler for my husband to come and look, I realized something.  They were not snake heads.  They were goose feathers.  The geese are still molting and spend a lot of time in the water pruning out their small downy white feathers.  Being water fowl, their feathers are oily and they float like tiny sail boats.....or snake heads......on the water's surface.

     Yes, where there is water, there is life.  Where there is a large metropolis, there is an eye care specialists on every corner.  Perhaps I shall go visit one.  

Needles & Sod

     The Olympics.  They entertain us.  They inspire us.  They make us proud.  They give us cause to get up off the couch and do something.

     Even though the Summer Games have come to an end, there are still many conversations overheard of the gold medal winners and all those who gave their very best.  No matter where we hail from, everyone who watched will never forget that smile on Bolt's face as he crossed the finish line.

     Over the years, the Olympic committee decides what new sports can be added to the venue.  In recent years it was rugby and golf.  I have been thinking of a couple of new sports that might make the list for the games four years in the future.

     The first one could be called the Down Hill Needle Run.  I have mentioned before that this new place we call 'home' has many pine trees.  With many pine trees, there are many pine needles that fall and blanket the ground with their self made mulch and pine needles tend to be the mulch of the South.  This apartment complex has been undergoing a complete face lift.  Everything from the siding to the landscape has been changed and made to look like new.  I was surprised one day when I noticed the landscapers had brought in a huge pallet of pine needle bales.  This seemed counter productive to me as it seemed it would be much less expensive to just go anywhere on the property and rake up as many needles as they thought they needed.  Granted, they would have to sift out the pine cones, but there is still an endless supply of needles.  Since they did not ask for my opinion on this matter, I watched as the workers spread the needles on a very steep embankment.  I wondered to myself how in the world the needles would stay put when the next big rain came.  Shortly thereafter, it did rain and the needles stayed snug on the steep bank.

     As I was walking Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, one day, he decided to descend the steep afore mentioned bank.  Since he did not want to come back up, I had little choice but to go down the bank.  One step, wearing flip flops with absolutely no traction, made me realize something I had never known before. Pine needles are slick....slick, like black ice.  My descent became a question of whether to do down the bank on my back after my feet had flown out from under me, or run......and run I did.  Somehow, I managed to stay upright and was even able to get myself stopped before I plowed into the side of the apartment building that was looming up in front of me at a rapid pace.  So, with a few adjustments, rules and regulations,  I think this would be a great new game.

     The landscapers have laid a ton of new sod on the grounds.  It is fun to watch them unroll countless rugs of grass, lay them side by side and end up with a new carpet of grass.  After this sod gets established, it is beautiful.  Again, while on another outing with the Runt, I was walking parallel to the parking lot on a slight incline of new sod.  As I was marveling at how soft and plush it was, while wearing the same pair of non traction flip flops, I discovered that it too was slick.  Without notice, my feet went out from under me to my right.  With arms and legs flailing in all directions and possibly a triple turn of some kind, I managed once again to stay upright.  I gave serious thought to throwing my hands up in the air since I had stuck a 6.2 landing in front of the main office building, but I quickly gathered myself and the dog and headed back to the apartment.   Sod Sidewinder has a nice ring to it for 2020.

The Roll of Tape

     When I get done working on my orders, I have to package them up to get them ready to ship.  My orders, you ask? Well, that will be explained in the blog following this one.

     I use a lot of tape when I'm packing.  I have a certain brand that I like and usually only buy one roll at a time.  Limited space requires limited stuff.

     When starting out with a new roll, it's always easy to see how much tape is left on the roll.  There is a certain thickness on the side of the roll that keeps me in belief that this particular roll just might last forever.  Invariably, I always realize that I may run out before I get everything packaged.

     Most of us have been there.  Like on Christmas Eve when we have waited until the last minute to wrap packages.  The stores are all closed and the roll of tape is about down to the bare nubbins. Then we all do the same thing.....using tiny little pieces of tape in hopes we can make it last until the last flap of wrapping paper has been folded, tucked and secured. 

     As I resorted to cutting some of the pieces lengthwise, the thought occurred to me that the roll of tape was a lot like life.  

     We start out not knowing exactly what to do with the tape and fall victim to the amusement of others as we try to figure out how to get it off one finger, only to find it stuck on another.  Once we get the hang of it, the pieces get a little bigger and we use it to tape our artwork to the wall, or place a piece on the cat's tail.

     Somewhere along the line, we discover the side of the roll.  We think to ourselves, "Say, there's a lot of tape on here!"  We begin to pull off long strips to put all around the edges of our endeavors as if to make them last longer.  Then, before we know it, the edge of the roll has gotten thin.  We have to hold it close to the light, to gauge just how much might be left and find ourselves back at the beginning....tearing off little short pieces of tape.

     The message was so unexpected.  A dear friend had passed away.  I was stunned, she had always been the epitome of health.  It had been some time since we had last spoken.  She popped into my thoughts just a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue and I ignored something that I believe in, to the very core of my soul, so strongly.....she had sent me a message.  I should have called her.

     If we only had an ounce of understanding just how powerful our thoughts are, we could accomplish so many wonderful things, help so many others, change a world that seems to be crumbling apart.  

     The next time someone pops into your head, take the time to stop and pay attention.  Pick up the phone and make the call because they just might be on their last piece of tape.

A Dog's Days of Summer

     Since Mom is buried knee deep in paperwork, she said I could write a story about my summer activities.  Sometimes Mom is not very fair, I would gladly get in the middle of her paper pile, but she said "No."  Hi, I'm Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier.

     Mom and Dad took me to the beach.  I do not like to ride in the big thing that goes fast, but since I do not like to be left behind, I went.  Actually, I did pretty good on this trip and did not have to take any "find a happy place" medicine.

     I did not like the water at the beach.  It chased me.  A couple of times it caught me and I had to run fast to get away.  I don't like to get wet, but I was quick and it only got my feet.  

     The beach is made of lots of tiny grains of stuff called sand.  Sand is my new best friend!  Mom showed me how I could dig in it and I dug a hole nearly to China....wherever that is.  It was much fun!  Plus, I rolled in it.  That was great! I had sand on my head, sand on my eyelashes, sand on my tail, sand on my.....well, it was everywhere!  Mom said the bed had more sand in it than the beach, but I don't think that is true.

     At this new place, there is a lot of stuff going on.  Some nice people came and put down big rugs of grass!  Oh, I do love to lay in the nice green grass.  That is until the geese get on it, then Mom does not let me lay in the grass.  The geese leave lots of nice green poo in the grass.  It is really tasty and I love to put some on my neck, like perfume.  This never makes Mom and Dad very happy. They should really try it, they might just change their minds.

     Although I do have a hankering for goose poo, I do not like the geese.  They hiss.  One day, the peoples in charge looked out and noticed a great big lot that had been planted with grass seed, was full of geese.  They were eating the seeds!  Mom put my training collar on me (it beeps, but sometimes it bites!) and I got to be a goose herder!  It was great fun!  I ran as fast as the wind right through the middle of the flock!  There was geese and feathers going all different directions!  Some of the geese raised their wings way up high trying to look scary, but I wasn't scared.  I chased them and chased them and one even tried to bite me!  I tried to bite him too, but ended up with only a piece of feather.  It was great fun and I chased them all out of the lot.  Since it had rained, the lot was muddy.....then I had to have a bath.  I do not like to get wet.

     I have made lots of canine friends here, but I really like people best.  My bestest friend is T.W., he calls me Jumper.  I always know when T.W. is home and I jump on his door.  He lets me in and I get to run all over his place.  Then he gives me a chip and sends me home.  The last chip was a spicy tortilla one, it was tasty. Sometimes the chips are really big.  I bring them home and walk around with them in my mouth and make a funny whining noise until somebody breaks them into small pieces for me.  T.W. is really tall and when he holds me I can see a long way.

     Mom put some silly thing on the deck for the little birds to eat from.  I do not like for Mom to play with other animals.  When she was trying to hang it, I decided to show her she needed to pay attention to me.  I jumped as high and as hard as I could....higher than the railing.  Mom turn to catch me and I hit so hard I almost broke her finger.  Now she wears some silly thing on her finger and will not let me play with it.  Sometimes Mom is mean.

     It is very hot here, but I like it and lay in the sun every chance I can get.  The End.

     

Breaking Out

     It's been a long time since my fingers have danced upon these keys.  I have no idea why.  I've been somewhere in a deep funk....for weeks.  

     I can probably attribute it to many factors, some true and some false.  I could place the blame outside of myself, or sit and listen to the Voice, that lives in my head, whistle a tuneless tune while it waits for me to come up for air.

     I've let myself slip.......Slip into the quickly moving stream of chaos that floods the mainstream media and social networks.  I feel I'm drowning in the rising tide of division, hate, ignorance and the lack of facts.  I feel helpless.  I feel lost.  

     I picked up a favorite book, Into The Light, by John Lerma MD. The story that I opened to was about a dying man, William, share what the angels let him see before his death.  William had helped to murder hundreds of innocents during the Holocaust.

".........and a message filled his cells with the understanding that God had allowed everything that had happened in order to teach humanity to stand up against evil.  He was told that, because of free will, man was destined to experience darkness and goodness.  God's plan for the independent soul was to learn to evolve away from hatred, fear, arrogance, and pride, and move towards pure love.  The Holocaust was not created by God, but rather by the raw darkness within man and intensified by man.  It is up to man, with the acknowledgment of God, to not fear or try to control these events, but to learn that, with only God within us, we can defeat that darkness.  We cannot do it by ourselves.  William said that is the biggest lesson:  Learn to depend on God and He will use your free will to make the right decisions and save humanity............When a great drama is played out on the earth stage, the whole universe is watching, waiting, and feeling and integrating the lessons. ............It is time to embrace our divinity and change our purpose from survival to co-creating a better world. The choice is ours.  The time is now........."

     Regardless what you're individual beliefs are, this much is true....United we stand.......divided we fall.

Cat Freebies

     It was a lovely evening in North Carolina.  We had been invited out for supper at a local bar and grill.  This establishment sits nestled behind the end of a small strip mall.  The owners have converted part of the parking lot into an outdoor cooking area along with outdoor seating.  It had been a hot and steamy day, but with the sun tucked neatly behind the horizon, the evening air was cool enough to warrant sitting outside.

     There is a lone, black feral cat that has taken up residence at this place.  She has an endless food supply and the cooks and waiters even give her small cans of cat food on occasion.  There is a small wooded area right behind the cooking pit and I imagine that is where she calls home.  She is a sad looking mess, and kind of mangie but, she keeps a wary distance from the diners and patiently waits for a morsel or two to hit the ground.  When that happens, she uses her stealthy cat moves, retrieves the tidbit and slinks off, usually none the wiser to the customer.

     As we sat enjoying the encroaching coolness of night and good conversation, we noticed a young woman getting very close to the cat.  She had set herself in a chair, right next to a small can of cat food.  As the cat made its way to the can and began to eat, she ever so gently reached down to touch it.  The cat must have been pretty hungry because she did not bolt, but hunched down a little closer to the can and continued to eat.  

     We were watching this scene play out and wondered what the girl was up to.  We did not have to wait long.  On about the second attempt to pet the cat, the girl seized it by the scruff of the neck.  She then stood up, with the cat curled into a fetal position dangling from her hand, turned towards us and uttered these three words....."THIS is skill!"

     She then proceeded to go back to her table where she had a pet carrier waiting.  This was not one of those hard plastic carriers, but rather something that resembled a book bag, with open mesh windows for air circulation.

     Most cat owners know, that even the most mild mannered cat in the world can turn into a whirling mass of fur and claws when it comes to putting them in something they do not wish to be put in to.  It soon became obvious that this young lady missed that class when she was learning her cat skills.

     She placed the cat, still hanging in the fetal position, into the bag.  When she released her grip from the cats' neck.....the bag became a writhing, jumping, heaving, living creature of which there are few words left to describe.   The girl frantically tried to zip the top of the bag shut, but she was out maneuvered by this feline who had survived quite well without anyone's assistance. That cat shot out of the bag like a ball out of a cannon. The young lady was lucky the cat did not climb right up the front of her shirt and launch off the top of her head.   That indeed, would have been an encore presentation and had it happened, we would have been rolling on the floor as we were already having a hard time stifling our laughter.

     Some times the best entertainment is free and this was no exception to the rule. 

Sand Box Pay Back

     The year was 1972.  It was summertime and just a couple of months before my 16th birthday.  I had accompanied Mother and her sister and husband on a road trip to Florida.  I had never been to the ocean before and was anxious to see it.  Since I had my learners permit for driving, they let me behind the wheel.  As we rounded one last curve, near St. Augustine, the sand dunes fell away and the Atlantic Ocean was crashing a wave on its sandy shore.  I nearly drove off the side of the road.

     I had never seen anything more fascinating in my life.  We stayed at a small beach side motel and I could not wait to get in the water.  The waves amazed me.  I soon realized if I jumped when the next one rolled in, it would lift me up and set me down again.....in waist deep water.  I did this over and over again, mesmerized by this magnificent body of water.

     I was soon jolted back to reality when I turned around to look at the shore.  It was a long way from where I had started out.  On closer inspection, I noticed a small figure, about an inch or two tall, running wildly down the beach with its arms waving like a windmill in a summer storm.  It was Mother.....and she was frantic. I had no idea why she was so upset, gee-wizz, I was still standing in waist deep water.

     When I got back to her, she was still beside herself.  We made our way back to the motel and I headed to the bathroom to get cleaned up for supper.  There was no tub in the room, only a shower.  We didn't grow up with a shower, so this was a new experience too.  When I finished and pushed the shower curtain back, the entire floor was covered with about two inches of water.  I had no idea the curtain went on the inside....not the outside of the stall.

     Fast forward nearly 45 years.  Same ocean, but a different location and a 14 year old grandson in tow.  He had seen the Gulf of Mexico, but not the ocean and his fascination mirrored mine all those many years ago.  I watched him and our new friend, who had joined us for this short trip, as they hopped up with the incoming waves, set down in waist deep water and then repeat the whole process again and again.  Being wiser, I know what can lie beneath the surface.  Being older, I now knew why Mother was so upset. They were getting smaller and smaller.  I made my way out, within shouting distance, and hollered for them to come back. 

     A hidden trough waited about ten to fifteen feet from the shore.  It was about four foot deep and probably that many feet wide.  Once on the other side, the depth returned to about shin level, but the waves made navigating this ditch a bit tricky.  Rather than try to walk through this, I decided I would just ride the next wave over the top and onto the shore.  This decision gave new meaning to beached whale.  I skimmed over the top of the ditch, but I could not get up.  Every time I tried, another wave would roll in and toss me to and fro.  Laughing at myself did not help either, but I finally got back on my feet and felt like I had been exfoliated from head to toe.  A short time later, our grandson tried the same thing.  I laughed so hard I nearly cried.  Each attempt to get on his feet was met with another wave and he would bob and roll like a cork.

     If you have never been to the ocean, put it on your list of things to do before you check out.  Just remember this one important detail.....the waves that have been pounding stones into sand for millions of years will also put said sand in places you forgot you had.

     As we were thinking about calling it a day, our grandson decided to go in first to get cleaned up.  When he returned, our conversation went something like this..."Ummm, grandma?"  "Yes.", I answered.
"There was sand in my trunks and I got some on the bathroom floor."  I laughed and told him not to worry about it, I would clean it up.

     Our friend made a short trip back to our room.  When she returned she told me it looked like a crime scene in the bathroom.  I went to see what I had to deal with.  Not only was the bathroom floor completely covered with sand and small rocks, there was sand in the toilet, on the toilet and in the bathtub.  The image of Mother using all of our bath towels to mop up my shower faux pas flooded my memory and I'm pretty sure, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Angel of Karma doing a back flip out the bathroom door.

     I could not help but chuckle as I pushed sand across the floor, to the nearest corner, and scooped it into the trash can with a wet wash cloth.  At least I did not have to use all the towels to get the mess cleaned up.  

     The grandson had learned a valuable lesson and the payback was priceless.

The Deep Blue Sea

     There it was, before me, the Atlantic Ocean.  The sight of it took my breath away.  I had seen it before, more than once, but never in this kind of splendor.  My mind raced back in time, twenty five years ago.  A time when I stood on its shore, with my husband and our daughters.  Being a romantic, I looked at my husband and said, "Isn't it great?"  He answered, "Kinda grey isn't it?"  First, he is not a romantic and second, he has seen the Pacific, still something on my bucket list, the Atlantic did not impress him.

     But, this time was different.  This time it was the most beautiful shades of green and blue, as far as the eye could see.  The waves were small, possibly two feet tall, but they were moving quickly.  The water was crystal clear and cold, perhaps the recent large storm had something to do with that.

     We stood on the beach, this time with our oldest grandson and a new friend we have had the pleasure to meet.  We all stood silent as we gazed out over this magnificent sight.  Then, as if by magic, the first dorsal fin broke through the surface.  It was soon followed by another and then another.  Dolphins.  Dolphins in the wild. 

     The sun rises so quickly over the ocean.  It gives one a new perspective not only about how fast we are spinning through space, but how quickly our allotted time is ticking away.

     The waves, on this body of water, have been pounding the shores for eons.  Each grain of sand, once a rock or a shell, have fallen victim to the energy within the waves.  It will continue to do so, long after we are gone.  Long after we have procrastinated our lives away.  It does not care what we do or do not do because the ocean is doing what it is supposed to do....it's moving, it's living, it's vibrating.

     Albert Einstein once said, "Everything is energy and that's all there is to it.  Match the frequency of the reality you want and you cannot help but get that reality.  It can be no other way.  This is not philosophy.  This is physics."

     If you do not believe that, go sit by the deep blue sea.

     

     

What It's Really About

     Another. Mass. Shooting.  The media, government officials and some folks in general, are all up in arms about arms.....guns.  If there were more gun control, these kinds of things would not happen.  Look how many people have been killed by this sort of weapon.  Ban them, ban them all.

     Although I am not a gun owner, I would like to point something out.  Not being a weapons expert, I'm sure that my explanation will make a few experts cringe, but, here goes......A semi automatic assault  weapon is a gun that holds a whole lot of bullets but will only fire those bullets when the trigger is pulled.....one at a time.....one pull of the trigger means one bullet will fire.....to fire another bullet, the trigger has to be pulled again......and again......and again.  On the other hand, an automatic assault weapon is a gun that holds a whole lot of bullets and will fire all those bullets with one pull of the trigger......as long as the trigger is held down, the bullets will continue to fire.  An automatic assault weapon is illegal to purchase in this country, whereas a semi automatic is not.

     tRuth As I See It is simply my opinion.  The question I hear a lot is 'why in the world does anybody want to own (or need) a semi automatic assault weapon?'  My guess would be the same reason people like to drive cool cars, wear outrageous fashions, spend X amount of money on sexy under garments, build huge mahonkin' houses, buy luxurious yachts and the list could go on and on.  People like cool stuff.  People watch movies where the good guys get the bad guys and the good guys are carrying automatic assault weapons and they want one too.  So, they buy the next best thing. It looks bad to the bone and it's legal.

     The issue is not about guns because we could make a list, a mile long, of other things that kill.  Things do not kill people, the people in charge of the things do.

     To me, the real issue in this latest catastrophe is the fact the shooter had been investigated, more than once, for possible terrorists links.  If a there is zero tolerance for alcohol impaired driving, why is there not zero tolerance for being connected, or a suspicion of being connected, to a known terrorist group?   Why not tattoo a capital "T" on their foreheads so the rest of the people can help keep an eye on them.  Would that offend them?  Probably, but pussy footing around trying not to offend anyone certainly is not working. 

     Most people who commit this type of heinous crime had some little quirk, that set them apart from being what the majority would consider 'normal'...... and someone knew it.  That someone either did not care, or was too afraid to say anything, for fear of the backlash lest they offend someone.   When that mindset changes, so will society.

     We need to know the person next door and we need to be okeedokee about speaking up.