Just One More Thought

     More thoughts on thoughts, at least for now, and then I'm going to go find my happy, silly self.

     There is a lot of focus on hate, even to the point of having to make anti-hate laws.  Making laws will never change the way people think, it doesn't work that way.

     Think of all the things we hate.  Some hate cold weather.  Some hate differences they do not understand.  We hate the neighbor whose yard is an eyesore.  We hate wars.  We hate to hear bad news, unless it is about the above mentioned neighbor.  We hate disease, especially the big C.  We hate this and we hate that.

     What happens with all that hate floating around?  I believe it fuels the fire.

     Using a light/dark analogy, look at it this way.  When we have good, happy, love filled thoughts, we can place a white hat on those thoughts.  Those kind of thoughts are bathed in white light.  But, when we have bad, hate filled thoughts, the bad guys in the black hats, there is a darkness that we harbor and attract.

     When we say we hate disease, such as cancer, which we think of as dark, black and ugly, are we fueling that darkness with the amount of hate we give it?  Does it feed off of that hate?  What would happen if we embraced it with thoughts of love?  

     God is referred to many times as light.  The light of the world, a light for our path.  If we were to think of ourselves as being encircled in the bright white light of the love of God at all times, would there be any room for darkness?

     The darkness of the blackest cave can be overcome by the light of a single match.  There is no place for darkness to hide in the light of unconditional love.

     Shine your light on all things.

     

Oh Baby, A Whole Lot of Thinkin' Goin' On!

     "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, expecting different results" 
                                                                  Unknown


     A recent book, that has become one of my all time favorites, E Squared by Pam Grout, stated that we have over 6000 thoughts everyday.  That is a lot of thinking.  You would think that with all those thoughts pouring out into the universe every single day there would be a cornucopia of new ideas saturating the planet.

     Unfortunately, about 98% of those thoughts are the exact same thoughts we thought the day before......and the day before.....and the day before that.

     The premise of the book is that thoughts are powerful.  That they can influence not only our lives, but our surroundings and the lives and surroundings of others.  Somewhat like the Law of Attraction.  We get what we think about most.  For those who scoff at this idea, or call it New Age nonsense, here is another example, that has been around a whole lot longer than anyone reading this: As a man thinketh, in his heart, so is he.  Proverbs 23:7

     So what are those 5880 thoughts that we repeat each day?  Are they a direct reflection of where our lives are at the present moment?  Do they help us to repeat them day after day?  Are those thoughts getting us to where we want to be?  If we constantly think about a lack of something, say money, do we attract that lack into our lives unknowingly?  Is there a reason we were told, "Do not worry"?

     Consider this.  What if we changed the way we think about ourselves and the world as a whole?  Could we not only cure, but eradicate disease?  Could we think our way out of war?  What could the endless possibilities be?

     If we could turn off the constant babble in our brains, by a switch located somewhere behind the ear, or maybe just set our brains on a platter for an hour or so, imagine what would happen. Imagine what we would hear.  There was a reason the Psalmist wrote: Be still and know that I am God.

     Think about that.

     

     

     

To Blog or Not To Blog

     So far today I have not heard from my proof reader.  I have a vision of her throwing spit balls at my picture propped up on the end of her desk.

     Maybe she thinks I'm resting.  I guess I'm supposed to be resting or taking it easy, but geez, that's really boring.

     One day last week, I was the lucky recipient of an out-patient surgery procedure, so yeah, I'm supposed to be sort of resting.

     Out patient procedures are the kind where they herd you in and herd you out, in, hopefully, less than a day.

     They always like for you to be there early.  I think that is because they secretly hide and giggle because they know you will bust your butt to get there on time......so you can wait.

     I was fortunate enough to not have anything seriously wrong with me.  Of course, I didn't know that the day before so I spent the entire day before feeling sorry for myself and crying.  Crying always does such wonderful things for the eyelids, mine always looked like I just climbed out of the ring with Sugar Ray.....and I didn't win.

     I had asked the doctor if I could drive myself home after the procedure.  I got a big fat NO for an answer.  I thought it might be rather fun, who knows where I would have ended up.

     My husband and I drove for an hour.....in the fog.  I thought about placing a couple of wet tea bags on my eyelids during the ride,  to reduce the swelling,  but since I could not wear any makeup or fix my hair I figured puffy lids were the least of my worries.  I was supposed to bathe with an antibacterial soap too, but I didn't have any.  So, I rinsed off with a solution of 3% food grade hydrogen peroxide......I may have been foaming.

     Coming out from under anesthesia is always fun.  The last time I had a procedure I woke up pain free and talking like a physic woodpecker.  All the other patients in the recovery room were moaning and groaning except me, I felt like a million bucks. When whatever I had for pain began to wear off and I had to ask for something, the nurse planted that hypodermic needle in my thigh with a vengeance.....she had listened to me long enough. 

     This time, I just woke up, no pain, no big deal and not too chatty. But, before the O.R. team put me under, I did sing them one of my birthday ditties.  When I started on the second verse, that was the last thing I remembered.  I really do think they enjoyed my humor.

     And so, I have blogged.

     



     

     

Cobwebs, Lady Bugs & Mud

     Today I believe I have walked through 1043 cobwebs.  It did not matter if I had walked from the house to the garage in three minute intervals, each time I went, I walked through cobwebs.

     During those moments of exploration, I flailed my arms and beat off 1093 lady bugs.  OK, so they really are not lady bugs, they are Asian Beetles.  Asian Beetles are somebody's great idea to get rid of some other pesty pest in soybeans.  They may do what they were brought here to do.....BUT.....come harvest time they are nothing short of a menace.  Since they no longer have a soybean plant to cling to, they cling to the doors, windows, and one's self, trying to get inside where it is warm.   They stink, they bite and they are just an all around un-useful pest as far as I'm concerned.

     If you have ever driven late at night during harvest time, when the temps are still what is considered mild in this part of the country, you have probably experienced windshield slaughter.  That is when you have possibly smushed every insect, within a 10 mile radius, on your windshield.  If said smeared bugs are allowed to dry on said windshield, it takes nothing less than a putty knife to get them off.

     So I'm thinking......why not contact one of the automobile paint places and suggest to them to add cobwebs and bug guts to their paint.  Not only will this solve the problem of rust spots on your vehicle, but the body will actually last longer than the engine.  This will cut down on landfill space and make steel last umpteen times longer than originally expected.

     Now for the mud.  It's dang near election time....mid term elections that is.  Since we have to make rules and laws for lack of common sense, why not make one that says:  "If you can't say anything nice, then don't say anything at all!"   

     Plead your case.  Tell us why we should vote for you.  Show us how you will make things better.  BUT, whatever you do, do not bring up your opponents dirty laundry!

     We all have skeletons in our closet......before too long....someone will be rattling your bones.

The Good Spirit

     At a time when the news networks, newspapers and social media like to focus and report on every bad, sad and grisly thing that goes on in the world today, it is good to know that the goodness of the human spirit lives on.

     There are 102 counties in the great state of Illinois.  Nine of those counties have a land mass of over 800 square miles.  The county of Pike falls into this category coming in at #8 with a land mass of 830 square miles.  

     So what?

     The other eight counties have a total population of 1,194,051 people.  The average for the counties, with the exception of one located close to Chicago, is somewhere around 40 to 60,000 people.  Pike County takes the lead for having the least, less than 17,000 souls live here.  So when I say that I live in the sticks, I'm not kidding.

     When you live in a rural area, everybody knows just about everybody.  If you do not know them, they are probably some distant relative.

     Recently, this large land mass but sparsely populated area came together for a cause.  A benefit was held for a young person in the community who is having the fight of their life.  

     The outpouring of support and love that could actually be "felt" in the room was incredible.  People came from miles around.  They gave from their purse and their businesses.  Even those whose pockets were empty gave what they could  and offered their time to help where help was needed.

     It was the best and purest example of mankind laying aside their differences and coming together as a whole, single unit, to lift up someone in need.  Everyone sharpened their focus on the task at hand, and it worked.  The benefit was a huge success.

     Maybe we should do this every weekend, so we don't lose the momentum, the awesomeness of what we really can accomplish.

     

The Pantry

     Having brought home a rather large portion of groceries, I decided it might be a good time to clean out the pantry.

     My pantry can house many a mysterious item.  

     Since it was already looking like it belonged to Ms. M. Hubbard, I knew it would not take too long to clean.

     Pantries have a way of collecting goods and services in their far back recesses.  Items that do not get used very often, like a can of pumpkin, so they just keep being rotated further into the abyss.  

     One of the first things I came across was a can of sweetened condensed milk.  Actually, I found three cans but the first was looking kind of rough around the edges....literally......it had rust on it.  I checked the expiration date...02/28/2007....a seven year old can of sweetened condensed milk......I think it is a safe bet I can pitch it.

     I'm wondering why I even have sweetened condensed milk.  I do not make fudge or candy or whatever else can be made with this stuff.  I think I was probably looking for evaporated milk and grabbed the wrong thing.  The other two cans do not have an expiration date on them, so I guess they are safe to put back in the pantry.

     The next item of mystery was a small jar of sliced pimientos.  I know it has been in there a long time because it has an actual price tag sticker on it.  Most kids today would not have a clue what that is.  The only thing I can think of that I would use sliced pimientos for is cheese spread.  I'm sure that whenever the last time was that I made cheese spread, I had eaten half of it before I realized I had forgotten to add the pimientos.  They still look quite lovely, their pretty red tender slices swirling in some golden liquid.  They are a bonus item.  They do not expire until October of the year 2020! There were a couple of more dots of ink past the first 2 & 0 but that's my story and I'm sticking to it.   

     Then I found three 5 year old cans of cranberry sauce, the kind that slides out of the can in one piece, and two 2 year old cans of sweet potatoes and the above mentioned, moved to the back of the pantry, pumpkin.

     My oldest daughter reminded me of the time she and her younger sister had to clean out the pantry.  They found a bag of opened marshmallows.....that were hard as rocks.....that they began to hurl in my direction......across the kitchen....while they laughed like idiots.  Hardened  marshmallows can be used as weapons of mass destruction.

     If there was a prize to be given to the oldest item in the pantry it would have to go to the two packages of yeast.  Their expiration date was 09/01/1999.  If I hang on to them for another ten years they will be considered antiques.  Maybe I will keep them, after all there were seeds found in the great pyramids of Egypt that were still good.  Somewhere there is a place, far far away, deep in some mountainside that houses a storage facility for seeds, just in case there is a raining of hardened marshmallows on mankind that would wipe out a large portion of not only the population but the plants on earth.  Maybe they would like my two packages of yeast.

     I could open them up.  There might be an image of the Virgin Mary, Elvis or some ancient alien code that would unlock the mysteries of life on the inside of their small foil lined packages.

    

     

The Grinch Who Stole Homecoming

     A very disgruntled member of a nearby community wrote a very disgruntled letter to the editor of the daily newspaper.

     He was livid with the recent homecoming activities, especially the one that requires many rolls of toilet paper.  He referred to this practice as "trashing the town".

     Since he was really angry, he also decided to throw in a few comments on how girls, young girls, should act.  I'm guessing he thinks they should be in the kitchen and some other room in the house.

     The man went on to say he wished for just 15 minutes in front of the student body, so he could shame them into being better members of the community.

     I always thought TP'd trees look rather pretty, especially when the wind is blowing.  Surely they used the cheap kind of toilet paper.  This would be an advantage twofold.  First, you can buy lots more cheap toilet paper with whatever amount of money you have at your disposal for said commodities.  Second, we all know what happens to cheap toilet paper when it gets wet.....so, if it would happen to rain, which, by the way, it has done for several days in this part of the sticks, the toilet paper is not going to hang, no pun intended, around long.

     When my daughter got married, someone TP'd the large tree in front of their house.  I watched as my new son in law took a small butane lighter, lit the ends of the toilet paper and let them burn themselves out of the tree.  It worked marvelously.  Although it may not be a wise idea to use this method if the tree is completely covered.....unless you just don't like the tree....or are very bored.

     In dealing with the young people, or girls and being a mother of daughters, I can only think of one thing to say......"Good luck with that."

     It's funny, as we generate into the next generation, we seem to think the younger one is completely off their rockers.  How quickly we forget the folly of our youth.

     I'm a firm believer in 'what goes around, comes around' and when you start pointing fingers and lashing out, someday it will come back to haunt you........and they all know who you are and where you live......how many trees are in your yard?

      Relax, Mr. Mad Guy, they are just kids.  It won't be too long before some of them will be very outstanding members of the community.  

     Life goes on and with it many an adventure.  Enjoy them all.

Clear As Glass?

     "I can see clearly now, the rain is gone....."

                                                               Johnny Nash, 1972


     After several days of grey skies and rain, it was a welcome relief to see the sun shining.  It was kissing the tops of the trees, with their Autumn hues of red and gold, making them appear as if they had a light of their own.

     As I walked into the kitchen on this bright and beautiful sunny morning I was literally awestruck by what I saw.....or rather the lack of what I could see.  The kitchen windows were really dirty.

     I noticed that some unknown graffiti artist had drawn a huge face and heart in one window, along with what looked like a possibly well placed tongue in the lower part of the artwork.

     I'm trying to remember, when was the last time I washed them? Possibly around the turn of the century.  I do remember that when I had last cleaned them, one son in law shot the hose on the outside of them....after I had cleaned them.......thinking he was oh so funny. I must have made a mental note right then and there to never wash them again.

     I can not remember how many days I have looked through them and thought, "Good grief, foggy again?"

     I could close the blinds, but that would defeat the enjoyment of the sunshine.

     I could wash them.  The weather forecast is excellent for washing windows.  

     What fun would that be?  I've got better things to do. 

The Clog

     Several years ago, when we remodeled the kitchen, I picked a sink with a unique design.  I thought it looked quite stylish and was different than anything I had seen before.....not only that....it was free.  It is a single bowl style, which always comes in handy when the need to bathe a small child arises, and in the back right hand corner is an elevated smaller bowl that houses the garbage disposal.

     That feature alone is what sold me on the sink.  I thought how handy it would be to whisk cuttings of vegetables or whatever off a cutting board into the disposal.

     Never having had a garbage disposal I learned early on that it is not a wise idea to overload it.  On the times that this happened, I was fortunate enough to have a small plunger that fit perfectly into the small opening of this small sink bowl that houses the garbage disposal.

     If it were not for the fact that we would starve, I sometimes think it would be a really good idea if I stayed out of the kitchen completely.

     The other evening, as I was cleaning up the kitchen, I decided it would be a good idea to clean out the refrigerator of some way too leftover leftovers.  One dish that I pulled out had a large portion of rice in the mixture.  Aiming the faucet over the small bowl in the sink, I turned on the water and fired up the disposal.

     As the last portion of the rice mixture disappeared into the whirling churning eater of all leftover things that will fit in it, I knew I had overstepped its limits.

     Sure enough, it was clogged.  Since it was late, I decided to wait until morning to tackle this unpleasant job.

     The next morning I noticed that some of the water had drained out.  Not all of it, but every once and awhile a small bubble would rise to the top.  I figured this burping meant that the nasty stuff had set long enough to soften up.  Once again, I turned on the water and hit the on switch for the disposal.  All this succeeded in doing was adding more liquid to the mess and churned up a smell that was most disgusting.

     Since I needed to fix some breakfast and did not want to do so while the foul odor wafted up to my nostrils, I got out a piece of plastic wrap and stretched it over the corner of the sink.  Problem solved for the time being.

     My small perfect sized plunger had somehow grown legs and left the building.  It was no where to be found.  I tried the old style, red rubber bowl on a stick plunger, but it would not fit into the small sink bowl.  What to do?

     I trotted up the street to inquire of my son-in-law as to the make and model of their plunger.  They have two junior high boys.....who love to eat.......so you know why I was positive they had a plunger.

     Not only did he have a plunger, it was the mother of all plungers.  This thing looked like  a round accordion, or bellows, hooked on a stick.  It was black in color and had a menacing appearance.  The looks of it alone should scare any clog.   Its bonus feature was the opening.  Just the right size to fit into the drain hole.

     I carried this weapon of uncloggery home and set about to fix the problem at hand.  The plastic wrap I had placed over the bowl now had no wrinkles in it and was bulging from all the fermentation going on below.

     Being of less than runway model stature, along with the fact that this portion of the sink is almost to the back side of the counter, I soon realized that I did not have the right leverage on the plunger. This was discovered with the first futile plunge and the spraying of the gunk in the drain all over the freshly washed window and its accompanying blinds.

     Not to be outdone, I retrieved the step ladder.  I climbed up on the counter, placed one foot on each side of the sink and gave that sucker the full body plunge.  Mission accomplished.

     Had anyone been standing behind me, I'm sure it was a sight to behold.

     

A Real Haunting

     "Rule of thumb, you're always within three feet of a spider."
                                                           Arachnophobia 1990

     Gather around the campfire everyone, it's time for a story. 

     Once upon a time there was a house.  This was a very nice house, priced somewhere around $450,000.  It set on the edge of a lovely golf course, with a two hole view.

     The couple who purchased this house most likely thought it was their dream home.  Although I'm not for certain, I'm sure they were probably working their tails off to pay for this house.  Even with 20% down and a modest interest rate of 4.5%, a twenty year mortgage would have a monthly payment of $2277.34.  That's a lot of coconuts.

     The couple moved into this house and most likely set about living 'large and in charge'.

     One day, while the female gender half of this couple was taking a shower, a spider fell from the ceiling into the enclosed space in which she was bathing.  This wasn't just any ole spider, oh no, it was the dreaded brown recluse!  Although I'm not for certain, I'm sure this female left a hole in the shower door in the exact shape of her body as she fled in terror from the spider.

     It wasn't long after the shower episode that the owners discovered the brown recluse spider was not alone.  It had invited all of its relatives, even cousins two times removed, to live in the house.  Spiders were literally oozing from the walls!

     The owners called in a spider expert, someone who obviously did not have a big enough imagination when it came to picking an occupation, to evaluate the spider situation.  The expert concluded there were between 4500 to 6000 spiders in the house, and this was during the season that spiders don't move around much or play their sneaky spider games.

     The couple had no choice but to leave because the lawyers, insurance companies and previous owners were all trying to place the blame on somebody else so no one would have to cough up any money.  The couple fled the home, and although I'm not certain, I'm sure as they sped away in their BMW, leaving black marks in the driveway, there was one very fat, full of eggs, brown recluse spider clinging to the tailpipe.

     The last aerial view of the house showed it draped in huge tarps.  A spider exterminator had been called in and he assured that nothing would be alive in the house when they were finished doing whatever it is that spider exterminators do.  Although I'm not certain, I'm sure they wear large solid snowshoe like apparatuses on their feet and carry a flame thrower.

     If I were the neighbors on either side of this spider monstrosity, I would demand it be bombed with fighter jets, making sure to leave at least a thirty foot deep crater.  Then the surrounding soil would need to be dug out, inspected by the EPA and deposited in some hazardous waste facility.

The End.

"I'll take two snakes and six mice any day over a spider."
                                                                       Ruth E. Reeves 



     

     

The Short Report

     Although math, beyond simple equations, eludes me, I'm a huge fan of quantum physics.  I find the study of particles, sub atomic particles and the "God" particle fascinating.  

     This brings me to the recent book I am reading, "E Squared  Nine Do It Yourself Experiments That Prove Your Thoughts Create Your Reality", by Pam Grout.

     The title is rather self explanatory, if you have ever given this sort of topic any interest.  If not, it means what is says, we create our own reality.  We get what we think about.  "Really", you say, "I've been thinking about money forever, and I still don't have any." Have you been thinking about having money, or the lack of it?

     Now that the 'eye rollers' have left the room, let me share with you the first part of this book.  My Kindle is showing I have only read 32%, so it will be a short report.  I would also like to add that this is not the first book about this subject that I have read. It is just one of many that are tucked neatly within the digital pages of my electronic book reader.

     Quantum physics proves to us that the universe, or Grand Master of the Universe, is with us at all times.  It shows that this Source is not locked behind sky high gates, sitting inaccessible to the human race, casting judgement in our direction.

     The first experiment in the book is called "The Dude Abides Principle" and is very easy to conduct.  

     First, pick a time to start.  Second, write down the time and date. Third, ask this Source, Master, God, for a blessing.  

     You do not get to choose the blessing.  You are simply asking for a blessing that you will know, without a doubt, like getting smacked up along side the head with a large stick, that the Source is making itself known to you.  The only thing you get to "demand", so to speak, is the time frame in which this blessing will come to you, 48 hours.

     It is a good idea to write this down, perhaps on a recipe card or note pad and the only requirement of yourself is to look and watch for the blessing.  

     Ready. Set. Go!

     Just imagine what could happen if, for the next 48 hours, everyone began watching, looking and listening for a sign, instead of worrying, fighting, and running the rat race.

      

So Much Better

     There was a poem swimming around inside of my head yesterday, but it must have swam out to sea because today there are just lingering tid bits of it washing up on the banks of my brain.

     I scanned the newspaper for some bloggery content.  So much of the same ole stuff.  I searched for word on the border town, far away on the other side of the earth, that has been trying to fight off the head loppers.  It seems they are now fighting within the town.  I'm no expert on warfare but it seems, from the pictures on the news and in the paper, that the land over there is pretty barren.  Lots of rocks, sand and wide open spaces.  The residents of this border town could see the enemy coming, for a long time......wouldn't that have been a good time for an airstrike?.....before they made it all the way to the town.......?

     I watched the neighborhood buzzards soar around the block this morning.  I've watched them all summer wondering where they roosted at night.  I figured it must be close because I have seen them daily.  I wondered if they would actually land if some small animal unfortunately met its demise on the street.  The answer to that question came one day this week as I was returning home from taking my granddaughter to school.  There they were, in the middle of the road, inside our small city limits, feasting on an unlucky bunny, who should have zigged instead of zagged.

     I slowed the car and took a couple of pictures before the buzzards left the scene of the crime.  By the time I parked in my driveway, they had circled and landed to resume the feast.  I walked across the alley to try and get a close up picture, but since I had left the confines of the yard, Tigger thought I was lost and followed me bellowing like a bull.  Buzzards are a large bird and rather menacing by looks, after all, they eat dead stuff, but they aren't very brave and Tigger's howls frightened them off.

     Tigger is in the house this morning.  He has walked across the top of my desk and tried unsuccessfully to lay his head on my keyboard.  He has finally taken refuge behind me, in the chair in which I'm sitting.  Cats pass gas......and like most members of the male species, I'm sure he purposely waited until he was in my personal space to release.  

     I feel so much better now, better than I have felt in months.  I should not have ignored the symptoms for so long.  Pay attention to what your body tells you, it's a marvelous machine.  

     Feeling better has brought back my old self.  The old self who always likes to tear into some project.  I did just that the other day. Needing a better way to take pictures of the jewelry and other items I make out of flowers, I decided to construct a couple of light boxes.  After a quick trip to Youtube for some tutorials, I gathered the supplies.  I had forgotten how much fun it was to cut up cardboard boxes.  Half way through the project, which was taking up the entire kitchen, I sent a picture of my mess to my oldest daughter with a message that read, "wait for it....".  She assured me she was on pins and needles.  When the project was complete, I sent her another picture.  She responded with "I'm so glad you're back!"

     So am I dear, so am I. 

What A Loaded (no pun intended) Bunch of Crapola

     Take the apple and the orange.  They can be observed, discussed and compared all day long and at the end of the day.......you still have an apple and an orange.  Yes, they are both fruit and that's about it.

     I do not know if the content of my blog falls under political correctness, one sided views, or just plain lack of good sense.

     There was a post on Facebook from a site called Upworthy.com that caught my attention.  Of course, the heading is supposed to do that, catch your attention.  It said something about what a certain store allowed inside its establishment and what it would not allow.  I fell for it and clicked on the link.  Here is what I found:

     There were three different pictures.  The first was of a young teenage boy holding a skateboard and an older man holding a rather large gun.  

     The second picture was of a young girl, of maybe 6 or 7 years old,  holding an ice cream cone and a man, who could have been her father, holding a rather large gun.

     The third picture was of an older man wearing shorts.  He is a large man and he is not wearing a shirt.  The other person in the picture is a woman holding a rather large gun.

     The article went on to explain that Kroger does not allow people to ride skateboards, bring in food or drinks, or come in half dressed........BUT, it was perfectly fine to carry a loaded weapon and was it really necessary to shop for produce while you're packing heat.

     They are comparing apples to oranges.  There is a huge difference between being rude, disrespectful, having no understanding of common courtesy and lawfulness.  

     Let's look at the skateboard.  Sure, it would be really cool to ride a skateboard down long smooth isles and try to launch over the canned goods display, but it's a grocery store, not a skateboard park.  I think it is a sad state of affairs that the store even had to make this a rule.  What happened to teaching children some simple manners?

     Bringing food or drinks into a store, whether it is a grocery store or any store for that matter, is just plain RUDE.  Not only does it pose a hazard for the establishment if above said refreshments are dropped on the floor but why is it even a good idea in the first place?  Good grief, use that grey matter between your ears for something other than just thinking of yourself.  Look at it this way, if you invited some friends over for a meal, that you slaved over all day, and they showed up with their own food and proceeded to eat it all the way to the kitchen, how would that make you feel?

     Now, the shirtless man.  Dude, that isn't just rude or disrespectful......it's GROSS!  Really, we don't want to see your large hairy chest and belly that is hanging over the top of your pants.  Put your freaking shirt on......PLEASE!  The thought of one of your chest hairs falling on my apples and oranges makes me want to puke.

     The guns in each picture look like what the press in this country like to refer to as assault weapons.  Most gun owners and operators know the true difference.  But, here's the deal, if they have a legal permit to carry such a weapon and the establishment is OK with that........end of story.

     Try to take out some crazed maniac wielding a large sharp knife with a skateboard or an ice cream cone....and since you left your shirt at home, you're not going to be much help at all, we can see that you're not packing. 

     

      

     

The Good Ole Days

     Remember when there used to be a standard rule of thumb when working in retail?  That standard was  "the customer is always right".

     I understand, having worked in many a retail position, that isn't always true, but it also meant to deal with the customer in a professional and kind manner.  Try to resolve the issue without making the customer look bad.  After all, if the customer is spending money in the establishment, that money is where the employee's paycheck is coming from.

     Recently I entered a store that I have done business with for many years.  I've always liked the place and the people who work there.  I also like the service they provide along with the equipment.

     The last piece of equipment I purchased there seems to be a bit faulty.  It still works, but there are times when it does not work properly.  When I inquired about replacing it, I was told that my contract would not end until sometime next year and that perhaps I could look online in a swap shop or auction site to purchase a new one.   I was thinking, "Hmmm, you don't stand behind your equipment?"  The sales person was new to me and I decided to go back another day.

     I did just that, a couple of weeks later.  I was told again that my contract did not end until sometime next year, BUT, in a couple of weeks I would have enough accumulated points to be able to put towards the new equipment.  Once again, I left and as I drove back home, the Voice, who was sitting in the back seat reading the latest copy of Wusses R Us, said quietly "They don't stand behind their equipment?"

     Today I went back again.  The new person was there and helping another customer.  This new person was also on the phone.  I stood quietly to the side and she asked if she could help me.  I told her I was there to see about getting a new piece of equipment. As I waited, gazing at the selections of said equipment, she asked me for some information.  Since she was working with another customer and had a receiver held to her ear, I didn't realize she was speaking to me.  When it finally dawned on me that she actually was speaking to me, I gave her the requested info.  

     She entered the data, and told me I did not have any accumulated points and that I would have to wait until next year.  I tried to explain that I did have the points and was told to come back.  While still working with the other customer and still holding a phone receiver to her ear, she tells me "Sorry".

     I hate confrontation, but I was instantly upset.  I informed her that was not what I was told two weeks ago, grabbed the door and rattled it quite nicely as I left.

     As I drove home again, the Voice, who was sitting in the front passenger seat this time, opened its mouth to speak.  "Just don't even go there!", I snapped.  It quickly shut its mouth, looked out the side window and began to hum the old Beatles' song, "I'm A Loser".

     Yes indeed, the good ole days of the customer being right or shown some respect have gone by the wayside.

Influential Feline Fancy

     Whether you are a lover of cats or someone who despises them, there is little doubt they have had an impact on the human race.  I get a lot of enjoyment out of my cats, much more so than my husband.  As I observed my two cats, these things came to mind:

     The Cat's Meow.  This means something of great importance.  Both of my cats rarely meow.  The Queen of the Yard cat is old and deaf, so I suppose she does not meow because she can't hear it herself.  The only time she does meow is when her bowl is still empty and it's past five o'clock in the afternoon.  Tigger, the youngest of the two, only meows when he can't find me.  It is more of a wail than a meow and, believe it or not, it always sounds like a question.

     Scaredy Cat / Fraidy Cat.  Most of us have heard this phrase since childhood.  It was usually aimed at whoever would not follow through with some grand scheme......like jumping off the garage roof.  Tigger is the ultimate scaredy/fraidy cat.  The neighbors left a large piece of tar paper on their roof after replacing the shingles on one side.  It stayed up there for several days, until the wind decided to blow.  When that happened, this once flat harmless black sheet became a breathing, moving, mystical creature.  Tigger spent most of the day with his tail the size of a baseball bat and his eyes as big as saucers.

     Copycat.  Yet another childhood saying, probably most used by siblings right before they called for the folks.  This phrase actually has a true meaning, cats do copy each other.  The Queen learned many years ago that in order to get a drink from the top of the swimming pool cover, she merely had to walk towards the collected rain water and her weight would bring the water to her. Tigger has watched this lesson in thirst quenching with great earnest.  He has yet to figure out that he is causing the water to come to him and thinks it is chasing him.  Still a fraidy cat.

     Something The Cats Chewed On.   This was a common phrase used by the original Lela.  It was usually directed at someone's hair style.....or her own.

     Let The Cat Out Of The Bag.  This usually refers to some secret that is no longer a secret.  But, if you have never seen a cat in a bag, it can be quite entertaining.

     Although there are many more cat sayings, I will close with just one more.

     Curiosity Killed The Cat.  Pretty much self explanatory.  It does carry a good message of 'be careful where you poke your nose' and applies to people, as well as cats.

Random Tid Bits

     Taking iron supplement tablets is about the equivalent of licking a rust covered pipe.  It does not matter how quickly they are swallowed, they will still leave a hint of rust.

     According to a recent survey, most college and high school students in this country, the USA, cannot pass a general test on the history of the United States.  That's pretty sad.  Let's teach it all, the good and the bad, people learn from mistakes.

     The head of the Secret Service put in her resignation.  My immediate thought on that was, "Duh, you didn't see that coming?" It takes approximately six months to book a tour of the White House and some guy scales the fence and is inside in a matter of minutes.........yep, think you might be better suited at a job somewhere else.  Maybe you could talk to the resigning AG.  He picked up a job with a $77 million paycheck......poor guy.

     A prison warden, who had worked for the DOC for some 30 years, lost her job because her roommate, 26 years her junior, was a convicted sex offender and was still accessing nasty stuff...on a computer......in her home............Really?

     My ancestors herald from many countries.  I was born in this country.  That makes me an American.  Not an Irish/American, not an English/American, not a German/American, not an Asian/American,  not an African/American.....just an American.  So who keeps this race thing up in arms?

     Since people have decided not to verbally speak to each other any more and would rather use texting, or some form of social media to communicate, they have forgotten something of vast importance.  Other people will read what you post or see the naked selfie you thought was a wise idea.  I really don't think some of the things people put out there fall under the heading of 'freedom of speech'.  Most of our mothers taught us that at an early age.  Some things are better left unsaid, especially if you wouldn't say it to the other person's face.  And certainly, there are some things better left unseen.

     If you do choose to be a complete idiot and get caught in the cross hairs of controversy, at least own up to the mistake, or plead your case.  Just don't make excuses.

     

Makes No Scents To Me

     Some people have recurring dreams.  Mother used to have one about some guy who showed up at the farm one day.  He was very strange and posed some kind of a threat.  The next thing she knew, she had killed him, stuffed him in the trunk of the car, loaded up Lela and Blanche and took off driving.  That's how it ended each time, with her driving around with some dead weirdo in her trunk.

     She always wondered what the meaning of the dream was.

     Dreams can carry a message.  Many of the visions in dreams are usually symbolic.  For instance, having a dream about a fish can mean money is headed your way.  If the fish is rotting, it means lots of money.

     Recently I have had a recurring dream.  I'm standing in my neighbor's back yard.  There are other people there, but I'm not sure who they are.  In the middle of the yard are two large skunks. These skunks are big, the size of a Labrador Retriever.  One skunk has two white stripes on its back, the other has one white stripe. No one seems to be concerned about the skunks, except me.  I do not speak, but the entire time I'm thinking those are some really big skunks.

     A week or so later, I have the same dream again.  And again I found myself wondering why no one is noticing those two huge ma-honkin' skunks.

     After doing a bit of research into the meaning of animals in dreams, I found the following information:  A skunk is usually a peaceful animal, it poses no threat of its own, unless it is threatened.  When threatened, a skunk will send a clear message of "Do Not Mess With Me!", or else.   Most people understand what the 'or else' means.

     The comic section of the Sunday paper always has a space dedicated to explaining a certain topic.  It could be a place, person, critter, etc.  Last Sunday's topic was skunks.

     Since the night time temperatures are staying in the 50's, we are still sleeping with the windows open.  Two days ago, about four o'clock in the morning, I was awakened by the strong, pungent odor of skunk musk.

     I'm still searching for the meaning of all this skunkiness, but for now, it just doesn't make scents.