Fast Food Night

I like writing poetry and today while having nothing to do and not liking being idle, I decioded to write this little poem for all of us who like fast food on occassion. I hope you enjoy it.

Fast Food Night

I’m feeling like having some fast food tonight
With calories, cholesterol, and fat.
I know just what you’re thinking my friend,
And I know I shouldn’t do that.
Now here’s what I’d like to explain to you
It’s not good nutrition’s defeat
It’s just now and then I get this urge
For having a bad tasty treat.
What should I choose for this kind of meal?
That’s where the problem does start
The T.V. ads are driving me nuts,
And pulling my taste buds apart.
Wendy’s can start me out just right
With a berry and almond salad
They add some chicken completing the dish
“It’s real, can’t fake it,” their ballad.
Carl’s Junior’s has a turkey burger,
Offers Miss Turkey herself
Parading around in a printed bikini
Of the burger right there on her shelf.
Jack In The Box has a Bourbon Steak
Covered in barbecue sauce
The chef and Jack get locked in the freezer
Is he getting it on with his boss?
Taco Bell, I can smell it from here
It’s their beefy melt burrito.
There’s a guy who says he’s hungry too,
I suggest an Enchirito
Mc Donald thinks I might be thirsty
For a strawberry-lemon drink
While listening to a talking lemon
Is a little weird don’t you think?
I have pondered and thought them all over
And despite all my hunger and looking
Have decided for taste and the sake of my health
To head back home to mom’s cooking.

The Saga Of Toilet Paper

The Saga Of Toilet Paper
Scientist have done some remarkable things
Discoveries, inventions and such
But when it comes to toilet paper
They haven’t done very much.
The progress they’ve made through all these years
Is enough to boggle the mind
But certainly they have failed the test
To take care of the human behind.
Oh I have tried them all you see.
The soft, the strong, and three ply .
All the ones I see on T.V
Mama bear and her cute little guy!
Scientists put a man on the moon.
I‘m sure you know this is true.
But have you found any toilet paper
Where your finger doesn’t come through?
Stand up and protest, it’s time that we do,
Or why not start a petition?
It’s time those inventors took pity on us
To alter the way we position.

Author
Blanche Yerves
8/20/10

Bad Daughter, Good Daughter

A ninety year older lady blacks out and falls to the floor. She lives alone so there is no one there to assist her. When she regains consciousness, she uses all the strength she can muster and finally pulls herself up. When she is feeling better, she calls her daughter. She is taken to the hospital for evaluation. The results show she is not drinking enough water and is dehydrated. She was given instruction and told to drink more water, which she has been doing. That was a year ago. Now she is a year older, still living alone and has perhaps forgotten about drinking water more often and the hot weather has arrived. She has since been signed up with a first alert company and has a monitor she wears around her neck at all times. She again passes out in her bathroom and when she come to, she is a bit disoriented, but has enough presence of mind to push her alert button. This time she cannot get up by herself. The alert company calls her daughter, who does not come, but instead sends her husband. The lady has a split lip, a bruised nose and a big bruise on her arm. The husband can not get her up from the floor and has to call in a neighbor to assist him in getting her up. He remarks that maybe she has not been drinking enough water. He makes sure she is in possession of her faculties by now before leaving, but no one takes her to emergency. They assume what the problem is. This all happened around noon time. I find out that the daughter has not called her mother to see how she is until the following day. Since the lady was upset her daughter was very unresponsive to her in a time of need, she asked why she had not come with her husband when she fell. Her explanation was that she had company from out of town and could not leave. Please picture this.... your ninety one year old mother has fallen, laying on the floor, not able to get up. You do not know her condition, or if she is badly hurt or not, or if she needs medical attention, but you have company so you can't go find out, but your husband does not need to stay and visit so send him. It is only your mother and she did this last year also, so it probably is nothing. You do not have time to call later in the day, but she will be O.K. until you can call tomorrow. What kind of a daughter does this? What kind of company do you have that does not insist you go find out about your mom. What kind of people are all of you any way?
Now here is another story that is in such sharp contrast it will make you feel that not all children are so insensitive. This mother had three children. She lost one son some years ago and more recently another son from a car accident, leaving only one daughter. Both she and her husband are in poor health, both physically and mentally. The daughter lives 105 miles away, which takes her about two hours to get there. She has a full time job plus her own home to take care of. She also has to handle her parents financial situation, see that they get back and forth to doctor appointments, deal with Realtors, con artist on the telephone, and seek help from caring relatives and friends who can do small errands for her when she is unable to get there. She is in the process of getting their house sold and moving them to her town where she can better look after them. She spends most of her week-ends with them, helping them with whatever their needs. She has arranged for a cleaning lady, a relative to drive them for groceries, and she takes time out to write checks and pay all their bills. She talks daily to them on the phone. More recently she is taking time off from work (leaving after her shift ends tonight)to go stay with her parents while her mom undergoes surgery. She leaves her own household to care for them. Her father just recently showed signs of senility which she now has to face and find out what the future looks like since her mother is not able to take full care of her husband. The only child of two aging parents trying to run two households 105 miles apart, and doing such an amazing job, gives heart that some children love their parents more than others.
The first daughter not wanting so much responsibility,says, "My mom had her day, and now it is my turn." The second daughter says, "My day will come in due time."

I Was Just Thinking!

Aging is not a state of the mind; it is a stage of the body. When we are young we think we are invincible and can do anything we set our minds to. That is almost true, although our judgment is not always right because our inability to control our impulses has not yet fully developed. Young people have no fear and therefore are sometimes a danger to themselves. Now when you are older and the brain still says you can do anything you set your mind to, the body steps in and lays reality on you. The body is like any piece of machinery. It wears out. “Oh, I can do that”, you say, and then when you attempt it, the old body says, ”I guess you can’t.” It is a very frustrating thing to want to do something and you can’t. You get down and it is harder to get back up, you want to run around the block, but you are panting and wheezing before you have gone very far, You find that whatever you attempt, either your legs, or your arms, or your back, or your eyes, or your breathing is not cooperating with you. So, whether you are young or you are old, your body is in control of you, and your mind is just fooling you into thinking it is not. You had best listen to your body if you want to stick around for a while. Thinking you are younger than you are can be detrimental to your health!

Beware Big Company Lies!

In July 2004, I was preparing dinner at my kitchen counter in front of my kitchen window. On the left side of my counter I had placed my electric frying pan and was preparing to cook a chicken dinner. I had purchased a package of McCormick Country Chicken sauce mix, which you must follow the directions on the package to be successful. In stirring the mixture I guess I was a little too vigorous doing so because some of the sauce spattered up onto my kitchen curtains. I did not think too much about it, but did wipe off what I could at the time and thought if it stained I could wash them later. That is the only thing I was preparing at that particular place. This is important to remember. After a while, I happened to glance up at my curtains and the color was bleached out where the sauce had landed. I am not kidding you!! The chicken sauce bleached my curtains. I had just purchased them a few weeks before and had paid $35.00 for them on sale. What would you have done? I did what I thought was the right thing to do and contacted the McCormick company. I told the lady, who was the one answering my call, about my problem and she practically told me I was nuts, but if I would be so kind as to send the empty package to her they would run a test on it to see if there was anything that they deemed responsible. Well, that was a dumb thing to do as there went my evidence, but I had already mailed it before I had given it some thought. My recourse was to high tail it to the grocery store to get another package and test it on another piece of colored material. It was only a day or two between times, but SURPRISE!! It had been pulled off the shelf. I immediately went to three other stores to find there was none on their shelves either. All other McCormick sauces were there, but not the Country Herb Chicken Sauce. All of them had been pulled from the shelves. What would you think? Of course they contacted me and said they had ran a lot of tests and found nothing to be wrong, and I must have spilled something else on my curtains besides the chicken sauce. Remember, I told you there was nothing else I was preparing in that space. The purpose of this blog is to tell you to NEVER be stupid like I was and get rid of your evidence that would prove your case. I was not asking for a huge settlement from them. I only wanted back the $35.00 I had spent on my curtains, which I had to replace myself. I am on a fixed income and extras like that, are sometimes an extravagance. Be wiser than me my friend. I am adding the letter I sent to the McCormick Company so you can see I was not trying to get more than what was coming to me. That was in 2004 and it still bugs me that a large company like that, can be so deceitful, untrustworthy, and irresponsible. O.K. Cheap too!
July 7,2004
Attention Jodi Davis:
McCormick & Co.
211 Shilling Circle
Hunt Valley, Maryland 21031
Dear Ms. Davis;
Enclosed please find the Country Herb Chicken sauce blend empty packet that you requested. If you need the portion of the curtain that was damaged, I will be happy to send it along also. I appreciate all the help you are giving me on this. I realize it is not an earth-shaking incident, but it is stressful for me when I have to replace something at my own expense, which is not my fault. Again thank you for any future helps you might give me.
Sincerely,

A Hunting We Will Go...Or Not!

When I first married my husband, Bob, he wanted me to go wherever he went. That meant I must accompany him on his hunting trip to Reno. I was not required to carry a gun (whew!) or expected to shoot anything. I do not think I could have done that anyhow because of my love of animals. I was not too happy knowing he loved to hunt, but knowing he came from a family who lived on a farm, and his father taught his boys to hunt, I knew it would be hard at this point to get him to not love the sport. Anyway, off we went to Reno. My first challenge in this adventure, was to get up a very steep hill, because that was where the deer would probably be.I started climbing behind him, but was not doing too good or making too much headway. "Grab a hold of me" was my instructions from Bob. "Grab a hold how?" was my thought. I needed my hands to grab a hold of this huge mound I was trying to get up. I decided on linking my fingers into the backside of his jeans. Great idea. He scrambled up that hill like he was born to it, and I was pulled along like I was flying. No sooner did we land on top than I hear "bang, bang, zing, zing!" "Hit the ground," Bob says. "Get down and stay down!" I see a pretty doe leaping fast across the hills. She was scared to death and running for her life. I knew then, I did not like this. When everything was finally quiet, Bob tells me some hunters are crazy and shoot at anything that is moving. They do not wait to see if it has horns or not, or if it is human. How sad! We scoured the hills, or at least Bob did. I hunkered down by a tree and waited for him to do his thing and come back to get me. He returned empty handed. (Thank you Lord).
We went back down the hill, I slid most of the way, and were about to cross this field where Bob thought there might be something. The green growth was quite high and Bob went ahead of me and told me to be careful and just step where he stepped. So I did. At least I thought I was doing that. I watched his footsteps fall and stepped where I thought his foot had been. He was doing just fine and must have had eyes of an eagle because nothing happened to him, while I stepped and oops! My foot went deep into the ground and up to my knee in water. I was cold, tired, nearly shot at, and wet! I wanted to go home, and so we did. I never wanted to go hunting again. However, I did. It was a scary adventure as well and it ended my hunting days forever. Bob took the boys on an outing only once and Brent fell into a creek carrying the rifle over his head, and Cary was more interested in finding fossils and old skeletons of animals. Bob went back to hunting with his buddies and let us happily stay at home, warm and cozy!

Where's The Fire?

Bob held some sort of office in the local lumberman’s union. It was one of those offices where your fellow workers vote you in to air all their grievances, which they do not want to do themselves. Anyway it made him feel good to be the one chosen. It was not an office for the union itself. Still, it was important, as he got to sit in on all the meetings and speak for his guys. This one time there was to be a meeting held in the state capital of Sacramento, California. Wives were also invited and all their expenses paid. Also an overnight stay in a very nice hotel and a dinner for all those invited. We also got to glimpse a couple of celebrities walking through the lobby. Marsha Wallace is one name that comes to mind. She was on the Bob Newhart show. All in all it was a very nice hotel where one should behave themselves and act like any human being would be expected to act. Well, my Bob was certainly a human being and most of the time he acted like he was supposed to do, but he had an awful curiosity wanting to know just how things worked, or if signs he saw, really meant what they said. He therefore had an uncontrollable urge to test them out. You know the kind of people I am talking about. They are the ones that have to touch something that says, “Wet paint. Do not touch!” or a sign that says, “Closed for the day.” That person has to try the doorknob. Things like that. Well here we are in this nice hotel, and after checking into our room, we were ready to go down to the lobby. Waiting for the elevator to come and take us down, Bob spots the little glass enclosed handle that says, “Pull only in case of fire!” He says, “I wonder what would happen if I pulled that?” I tell him, “DON”T YOU DARE! Everyone would think there was a fire and panic would reign. Behave yourself and curb your curiosity.” That was it for a while. Everything was fine until the next day when I opted to stay in the room, while Bob was to attend a meeting. I had forgotten about his questioning me the day before so I was not expecting what happened next. Suddenly, I heard the fire alarm go off and warnings being announced over a loud speaker. I opened the door to see Bob running down the hall towards our room, looking like a scared little boy child, running to the safety of mama! I grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him inside. “What have you done?” I asked him. He sheepishly said, “I wanted to see what would happen, but did not expect this.” “What in the world DID you expect?” I questioned. I got a shrug. There was a lot of commotion outside in the hall, but we waited quietly until all the sound was gone and then I escorted him down to the lobby and pointed him toward his meeting place. People were talking about someone having set off the alarm, but we acted innocent as we possibly could. He always arrived early to appointments, so he was not late for his meeting. I do not think this experience stopped his curiosity, but it slowed it down for a while. My Bob was a sweet, gentle, loving person, but had a flaw in this one part of his personality. Curiosity just got the better of him. However it had one good thing about it. It kept me on my toes!

Up On The Roof Top

Christmas 2009 is over, but I have a Christmas story that is lingering in my mind. It is a memory that makes me smile, and I would like to think you are going to enjoy it also. I am not exactly sure what year it was, but it seems to me that it was in 1959. It really is not that important to the story except for the age of my son who was a major player in the story. I believe he was thirteen years old at the time. He was (and still is) a creator of things. His imagination always works over time to create great pieces of art. This thirteen-year-old boy had decided he wanted to put a rocket on the roof with Santa riding it skyward. That period of time was rocket and space oriented, and what better way to send Santa off on his trip than by the way of a flying rocket ship? First off he had to make a rocket, and his mind was working hard on that image. The body he found in the garage in the form of an old garbage can. There was a hole in the bottom, which two pieces of stove pipe that he found, fit perfectly after some shoving and pushing. These became the exhausts. He now needed a nose cone. My husband worked in a lumberyard and we had a fireplace so it was easy to find lumber lying around in the garage. Three pieces of plywood worked fine when made into a triangle and nailed together, they formed a nose cone. From the back of the exhaust there had to be some fire to get it up into the air. That took a bit of thinking. However it was Christmas time and there were all sorts of things to hang for decorations, so these little pieces of wire covered with red paper and glittery stuff were just the right thing to work on a rocket. Actually they were for making Christmas arrangements for your holiday table. Wow! They really worked well on a rocket also. Paintbrushes came out to make it look more authentic and real. The next step was to get it up on the roof. With a little team effort from all of us, up it went. My husband became as enthused with the project as our son and so wires and rope and whatever was needed, put the rocket in place. Next the main character, which was Santa, had to be created and put into place. Everyone’s closet was raided and clothes were borrowed for good old Saint Nick to be created. A red pair of my slacks, a hooded sweat shirt from someone else, and a lot of old clothes and whatever we could find to stuff into the pants and sweat shirt to give Santa a shape. Voila! Santa came to life. A molded plastic Santa facemask went into the hood to complete the jolly old fellow. Now he had to be mounted on the rocket. Once there and positioned, he was supposed to be upright and ready to take off, but NO! The nice old guy just slumped down like a stack of old clothes in a laundry basket. This was not working at all. Someone had to go down off the roof and find Santa a backbone. A nice long stick and some twine worked well and he finally was sitting up straight. All that was left to do was to put a spotlight on him so he could be seen ready for his takeoff. That being done, everyone was delighted with the efforts and the neighbors were even agreeable that Santa looked pretty good. There he sat “up on the house top,” for a few days anyway, until one day came when the wind decided he should take a tumble. A girlfriend was visiting me at the time and we were the only ones available to get Santa back up where he belonged. No problem! We were very capable women and what could be so hard about doing that? Out came the ladder, on went our jackets, and up we went to rescue the old boy! It actually was not that hard although it took us a while, but much to our dismay, it started to rain. Not to be deterred we continued our rescue attempt until we were satisfied he would remain upright from now on. Finished, we were ready to descend to safer ground. One big problem arose which we had not anticipated. Going up the ladder was easy. Going down the ladder, not so easy. Neither she nor I felt safe enough to turn ourselves around, make our feet find the rungs, and back down the ladder. We were both scared to death. These two brave women who knew no fear, and felt confident in fixing the problem, were stuck on the roof with the rain pouring down. Hours later, we were still sitting there, drenched to the skin, when my husband came home from his work place, to see two women sitting on the roof top in the rain. It was not easy explaining it to him, but what a sweetheart he was to climb up, give encouragement and direction, to help us down. Still scared, we put our trust in him, and one foot at a time he directed our feet to the first rung and then the next. Feeling solid and firm footing after the second foot went onto a rung, the rest was a snap and the trip down the ladder was fast. A big hug to our savior was natural and tears came easy after our rescue. Tired and cold we quickly went into the house for comfort and repairs to ourselves. Our son was discouraged from getting any more great ideas for rooftops, and we have since encouraged him to give his ideas to a strong firm footing on the ground. That he has done and even got a mention in our local newspaper when he covered our entire house with Santa’s palace. To this day, he is still creating things, but it has been directed now to the creation of miniatures, and he holds an office in the National Association Of Miniature Enthusiasts.

Bobby Joe and Me

When I first met him we were in a honky tonk western bar and dance hall. I saw him dancing with some girl and thought, “Boy would I like to dance with him!” He was dancing the jitter- bug, or swing, as some people call it, but there he was, dancing with, probably his girl friend. Anyway I was with someone also and that fixes that! Then the dance ended and he took her back to her seat and he returned to his table where two other guys sat. Oh! He was not with a date. How great is that? But wait, I am with a date, so how do I get around this? Well happy days! My date excused himself to go to the restroom. As soon as the music started again, up I got and trotted over to his table and boldly said, “Would you dance with me?” He looked up, rather surprised and said, “I don’t know if you can follow me or not. I am from New York and I do the “Eastern Swing.” “So?” I thought to myself, but sweetly said, I think I can, but do you want to try? He did not look too happy, but obliged me and we got on the floor to dance. When it ended he said, “that was great, you surprised me. A lot of girls can’t do New York.” Well, I am not a lot of girls, but I did not tell him that. My date came back and said, ”I see you were dancing with Lucky.” I said, “Oh, do you know him?” It was a small place and I guess most everybody knew everyone else. Days later I went back there with a girl friend after work and he was sitting at the end of the bar with some guy. We acknowledge each other, and the jukebox was playing so I again asked him to dance. He declined, saying, “I just got off work and my clothes are dirty and I probably do not smell so good, but can I take a rain check?” That was that until quite some time later. I had talked my two sisters and their husbands into taking me there. This time it was he who came and asked me to dance. It was a slow piece titled “The Twelfth of Never.” This later became “our song” through many years. I was working as a waitress at the Santa Rosa Hotel. One day he just shows up for a cup of coffee. He was excited to show me a Christmas present he had received from the bar. It was a small thin wallet type thing with the bar’s advertisement on it. Oh my gosh, I felt so awful that this was all he was going to get for Christmas and he was so tickled with it. His family was back East and I guess they were not givers or else they did not know his address or whatever. Anyway he was happy so I went along with it and said it was great. He asked for my phone number and also if I would accept a date with him, which I did. He never showed up! After a reasonable time I received a call from someone else I knew wanting to know if I wanted to go to dinner. Yep! I did! We had finished dinner and were back at my house, just sitting and chatting when the phone rang. Good golly miss Molly, it was him. He was all upset and apologetic saying he had lost my phone number and it took him forever to find what he had done with it. He was wondering if I could meet him uptown at a very nice place to have a drink. I cannot remember what kind of an excuse I made to get rid of this guy who owned a flower shop and had brought me a lovely bouquet and dined with me in a very lovely place, but I did it, and when he left I ran and got into my car and was off to have a drink with Lucky! I forgot to tell you that he had this nickname attached to him during World War II when he was supposed to go out on a ship that was sunk by the Japanese, but his last name began with a “Y” and he was too far down the list to get called. Anyway, we met and snuggled ourselves into a booth to talk. He was thirty-one and had never been married. He said he had never met the right girl. I was thirty-five and had been married and had two children. He seemed to be so smitten with me that I said to him, “I bet you would marry me right now if you could.” He said, “Yes, I would. Let’s go get married tonight.” Well we both were excited and headed for home to make plans. It was late at night so we decided to start in the morning and go to Reno. He insisted on sleeping on the couch while I went to my bedroom and bed…alone. I later asked him how come he had not made a pass at me and he said, ”Because I was afraid you would change your mind if I did.” What a guy! Well next morning arrived and a new day dawned and my head became screwed on correctly. Good sense started replacing all that excitement and thoughtless planning that had entered my head last night. I cuddled up next to him on the couch and said, “I can’t marry you, not like this. I do not even know if I love you!” He hates it when I tell this, but tears came to his eyes and he said, ”I knew it. All my life, I have never gotten anything I really wanted.” Well, I tried talking sense to him, but he was so hurt and I am such a ninny to feel sorry for people that I said, “O.K. we’ll do it.” I got a sitter for my boys, and in my old Buick convertible, which we filled up with gas and put anti freeze in,(it was January and snowing in Reno) we took off. Of all the dumb, absolutely, ridiculous decisions I have ever made, this was at the top of the list! One date, and I marry the guy?? Turned out to be one of the smartest moves I ever made. This guy was a jewel, and I was married to him for forty-two years. He adopted both my boys and they adored him. In all those forty-two years, he never missed a day saying he loved me. On our first Christmas I wanted to make it something special for him. I found the old wallet from the bar that he had tucked away in his dresser drawer. I wrapped it up so beautifully and put a note in it telling him this Christmas was going to be different for him.
He said he would like it if I worked three more months and then quit my job to stay home and be a mom to my boys and a wife waiting for him to come home. No problem there. I never worked outside the home again except for doing home parties with a girl friend. I am a hobby person so I did a lot of homemade items and held garage sales for myself and six to eight other girls. I got up every morning at 5:A.M. to fix his breakfast and get him off to work. I did this until he said I should not get up anymore, as he was not hungry that early. By the time he got to the town where he worked he would stop and have a bite with some of the guys before going on in. At the lumber yard where he worked, his job was on the green chain. That is one of the hardest jobs in the mill. They refer to it as pulling the green chain. He was always telling me he wished he could get promoted to one of the big saws. I asked him why he did not try to get one of those jobs. His answer was that in order to do that you had to know arithmetic. Fractions to be exact, and he did not know how to do fractions. He had not finished school. I told him if he would bring home some pieces of lumber and the paper work that went with it, I would teach him fractions. Well, he did just exactly that and we set up a work table in the garage and went to work learning. He explained to me what the order forms meant and I taught him how to do fractions. He was a very quick learner. Long story short, he ended up being one of the top saw operators, and guys would sometime come to him for answers to their orders. He got so he could figure things in his head without pencil and paper. When Bob retired from his job at the lumber mill, I always had my coffee and paper waiting for me in the morning, and he always wiped down my shower walls for me after I had had my shower. Then he would get a little stool we had, and bring it in front of me where I sat in my chair, put my feet up on his lap, and give me the greatest foot massage. This he did every time. In return I fixed his cocktail for him before dinner and brought his coffee and ice cream to him after dinner. We were a team. If we had a difference of opinion at any time we went to sit on the sofa and without raising our voices or becoming angry, we discussed it until it was settled agreeably. I am so blessed to have had those forty-two wonderful years with my Bobby Joe! What we did was not very smart and I would not advise it for anyone else, but it was a blessing for me!

Ghost or No Ghost!

My new T.V. Guide arrived in the mail today, and I was browsing through it when I came to a page concerning the program "The Ghost Whisperer." While reading it I found out the television program is based on a real life ghost whisperer. Well, the subject has always fascinated me and I don't know if I believe in them or not, but I do have strange things going on in my home that makes me take a second look or thought as to whether I do or not. Before I tell you about a very convincing story that give credence to it all, I must first tell you this. When I first purchased my home some thirty seven years ago, My husband and I would hear someone walking in our hallway at night. There was never anyone there. On getting acquainted with new neighbors the subject came up and they said they had the same experience in their homes as well. They told me they had heard the rumor that many, many years ago , Indians had their homes along this stretch of land. It could possibly be true as this land on which our town sits, was indeed home to an Indian reservation. Well, we learned to live with this nightly walking and it became so familiar that we did not notice it anymore. In fact maybe the ghosts did not come around as often. Recently though, they are back. My husband has passed on and my son came to live with me. He did not hear much of anything at first and then one night he became so upset with what he perceived to be walking up and down the hall that he got out of bed, opened his bedroom door and shouted, "Go away! Go bother someone else and let me get some sleep!" He went back to bed and the walking ceased. He chuckles now about it, but I wonder if he believes in them. Lots of nights, while sitting in my special chair and watching television, I hear footsteps behind me, and I look thinking it is my son going into the garage to his work space. No! No one is there. Just two nights ago when I heard it, I looked, and just in a flash I saw a half see-through figure dart quickly, and then was gone. I am sure it was a figment of my imagination or an unexplained something or other, but I told my son about it anyway. Now here are two very convincing stories that make me think maybe ghosts really do exist. We had just recently lost our beloved dog "Cissy," who always slept on our bed at the foot. One night after we had been in bed for quite some time and were sound asleep, my husband and I felt something jump up on our bed. We both awakened at the same time and came to an upright position together in wonderment. My husband exclaimed in a rather loud voice, "What the heck was that?" After a moment of getting my thoughts together, I calmly said,"That was Cissy jumping up on the bed to be near us." We both looked at each other, accepted the thought and laid back down to go to sleep. True story! Here is the one that really boggles my mind and makes me think long and hard on what is the truth and what is not. It is very hard to try and think up something to justify what it actually was other than a ghost coming to visit. My very dear lady friend was lying in the hospital dying. I was there sitting by her bedside, talking to her,(even though she was in a coma) and brushing her hair back from her face. I could not help but putting my hand on her and lightly brushing my hand back and forth on her forehead. After a while her daughter came in and because it was getting late at night said I should go home and she would call me if there was any change. I felt that she may need some private time with her mom and so I went home. At 2:10 A.M. I was awakened by a soft breeze across my forehead. I sat up in bed, and my husband woke also to ask me what the matter was. I said, "Marilyn just died and came to say goodbye to me." He said, "Are you sure?" (I guess at 2: A.M. you can ask a dumb question like that!). I said, "Yes, she just brushed the hair out of my eyes." It was a soft breeze across my forehead and there were no windows open it the house! The next morning her daughter called to say her mom had passed on and I asked if she knew what time she left and she said, "Yes, a little after two in the morning." Do I believe in ghosts? I still do not know, but I ponder on this a lot and wonder if we will ever know. So many fakers out there that it makes you doubt, but these stories I tell are absolutely the truth and it leaves me wondering.

Just a Suggestion!

What a great invention the computer is and its access to so many things. We can connect with people, we can learn things, we can ask questions and get answers, and the list goes on and on. However, there are people out there who take advantage of this wonderful invention. You can so easily be scammed if you are not aware, and if you do not question some things that come on your screen. You can also be given false information and believe it if you do not take the time and trouble to verify it. Anything that comes up on my screen that does not just sound right or is accusatory of something or someone, or gives me a sad sob story of someone in need, or is angry at the government or politician or anything about our soldiers oversees, I will not accept as truth until I have checked it out on Snopes. I feel it is a terrible injustice to pass on information unless you know beyond a shadow of doubt that it is true. I understand the shock value that comes with these emails and the first inclination to be angry and wanting everyone to know and be warned, but how sad, if it is not true, and that it is being spread through this great newspaper of the world. People are being maligned and scare tactics are being spread and none of it is true. Oh, I know, some facts that arrive are truthful, but the majority are nothing more than hate mail, or someone getting their big laugh over all of us so gullible. Please, folks, just take a moment to verify it before you put someone on a list where they do not belong. Also be careful and aware that you do not fall into a trap yourself where it could cost you financially, or emotionally. Be alert and concerned before clicking on forward. Just something to think about and strictly my own opinion!

School Daze

The year was 1936 and I was thirteen years old and in Junior High School. One of the fads for girls was to own an autograph book and have all your fellow classmates write something in it, and sign their name. Well, today I came across mine when looking for a recipe book. Oh my, what memories that brought back and it also gave me a few laughs. I thought I might share some of the things that were written in my autograph book. One girl wrote on a slant on the page and this is her contribution;
In years to come, as come they will,
Please remember the girl who wrote uphill!
Another; I'm not a Northern beauty, I'm not a Southern rose,
I'm just a little country girl, With freckles on her nose!
And; I write on white to be polite
And save the yellow for your fellow.
This one I really liked and chose it to write in another person's book. However, one of my teachers did not like the idea of autograph books and collected them all from this particular class, to take home with her to read. The next day she brought them back and gave us all wholly heck for wasting our time on such drivel. She read several aloud and commented on them. She read mine and said she was most disappointed and shocked to read this one from a very special student whom she never would have believed would write such a thing. I was almost brought to tears and to this day I cannot understand why she did not see in it what I had seen. I thought it was so very nice. Here it is;
May your friendship ever spread
Like butter on hot gingerbread!
I laugh now, but I was terribly hurt back then to think she was so cruel to me! Oh well! On to some more.
I thought and thought and thought in vain
Until I thought I'd sign my name!
Yours till the statue of Liberty has twins!
Most all of the other teachers signed our books with a smile and were very gracious. here is one:
Trouble will vanish from you like a bubble
And from you depart
Unless you nurse it and oft times rehearse it
And hold it close to your heart.
Again; When your days on earth are ended and your path no longer trod
May your name in gold be written in the autograph of God
More; Of all the ships that sail the sea
Friendship is the ship for me!
And; I love you big, I love you mighty
I wish your pajamas were next to my nightie.
On the clothes line, that is!
And this; I never went to college
I never went to school
But when it comes to loving, I'm an educated fool!
How about this; I write on pink because I think
You are sweet!
When you see a monkey up a tree,
Pull its tail and think of me. (Groan)
Here is a good one! Love is like an onion, you taste it with delight
But afterward you wonder, whatever made you bite!
And from my very first boyfriend we have this;
Last in your album,
Last in your thoughts,
Last to be remembered,
And first to be forgot.
I have never forgotten Marcel Bartholomew. He drew a heart with our initials in it. How sweet!
There are more, but I just picked out a few for my blog I thought you might enjoy. Do kids today have autograph books? I don't think so! I think they have gone with the jump rope, the kite, hop scotch, hide and seek, kick the can, and all the other games that kept us outside playing. Today's kids don't know what fun is in the great outdoors. Oh well, hope you enjoyed these. It was a nice trip down memory lane for me!

Call The Police!

Nostalgia comes with old age, and it often brings smiles to your face which has happened to me this day. Many years ago I worked at an ice cream parlor that served food along with all the wonderful ice cream concoctions you do not see today. The place was called Bordens and the man and his wife who owned the place were probably the best bosses in any business around. They were absolutely wonderful people and working for them was such a pleasure. The place was very popular and full most of the time. Not only did the locals visit, but so did the soldiers who were stationed here during world war two. However my story is about the police officers who came on a regular basis. Both the city police and the highway patrol. We knew them all by name. Crime was not very rampant in those times and they were always offering rides to any of the waitresses who were stuck without their car to get them home. One night a girl from Windsor had no way home and they volunteered to take her, but that she had to know if they got a call she would be dropped off on the side of the road while they answered the call. That might have been scary, but not so as there just was not that much to worry about back then. Myself and my sister, who also worked there, walked home by ourselves many a night at midnight without any worries whatsoever. I am probably the biggest scardy cat ever, but I did not have fears back then, of walking home at midnight in Santa Rosa. Well, maybe I am not the biggest scardy cat, as my boss's wife would often fear going home when she had to take the cash from the restaurant with her. Therefore, these gallant officers would volunteer to drive behind her until she was safely to where she had to go. I am not sure if she took the cash home or deposited in in the night slot, but whichever they followed her to make sure she was safe. We (my sister and I) lived in the bottom apartment of a two story. One night two of the city police gave us a ride home and parked the patrol car and came in for refreshments. (Yes, that is all!!) It was after midnight and we happened to get a little loud in our conversation and laughing. All of a sudden they heard the speaker in their patrol car and one of them ran out to take the call. He came hurrying back in and said they had to leave as the people in the upstairs apartment had called in and said there was a noisy party going on in the downstairs apartment. OMG that was us! Out the door they went laughing all the way and telling us to, "Quiet down!" I do not believe anything like that would happen in this day and age. It was all pure innocence, but today it might not be so easy to convince anyone of that. While thinking of it today, I could not help smiling and thinking how those guys were always there to protect us gals when we needed them, and even though it was not the right thing to do it has given me a lot of pleasure to recall it all again and make me smile.

A Tasy Test!

Yesterday I received an email that told about a lot of unusual foods at fairs around the United States. Some of them were: chicken fried bacon, fried avocados, (yum! they were coated in corn dog batter and deep fried) Spaghetti and meatballs on a stick, (Yuk! All mashed together)fried frog legs, hot beef sundae, ( sliced beef covered with mashed potatoes and cheese, topped with a cherry tomato) Krispy Kreme chicken sandwich, ( OMG. chicken patty with cheese between a Krispy Creme donut) pizza cones, (wrapped pizza put into a paper cone container for handling) Key lime on a stick, and deep fried coca cola. This last was not bad. It was a batter, flavored with cola and deep fried. That was just some, and when I read about the frog legs it reminded me of a story my mom had told us kids about something she did as a young woman that made us laugh. I guess my grandmother did not think it funny, but you can judge for yourself. My grandmother had let my mom do the cooking for that evening and they had agreed on having chicken for dinner. Back in those good old days, they just went out to the chicken coop and chose a chicken, wrung its neck, put it in boiling water to strip the feathers off more easily, and did whatever they did to prepare and cook the chicken for dinner. Oh boy! I am so glad we do not do that anymore. We would never have chicken in our house if that was the way I had to do it! Some, I guess did use an axe and chopped the head off, but even that leaves me queasy and gives me loss of appetite. Well, any way, instead of chicken, my mom caught a few large frogs. For the life of me, and after consulting with my ninety one year old sister, we could not remember how she was able to get the frogs. We believe there was some kind of water or swamp near their house. Well, anyway, this story is true and on we go! Now my grand mother did not mind the torture given the chickens, or mind eating them, but she had a weak stomach where frogs were concerned, so mom did not tell grandma that instead of chicken for dinner, it would be frog legs. I am told frog legs taste just like chicken. I will never know!! At dinner my grandmother said the chicken was delicious tonight, but she said, "How many chicken did you kill? There are so many legs." About then it dawned on her what had happened, and she flew from the table to wherever they went in those days to upchuck the whole jumping mess! There were no bathrooms, just outhouses, so I assume she just retreated to outdoors. Poor grandma. I feel for her and know exactly how she felt, and my mom deserved the punishment, whatever it was. I do remember my mother saying grandma was very upset with her and checked dinner out from then on. I am also checking out our fair food before I go. I don't think we have anything too unusual at our fair this year. The local paper gave an accounting of what booths there were and the only new thing I could see was deep fried zucchini sticks. I might try them when I go. Bon Appetit!

A Fair Affair!

It's fair time and the Sonoma County Fair has opened in our town of Santa Rosa, California. I have not been yet, but I heard its theme is "The Fair Before Time." That means there are lots of prehistoric things to see and lots of dinosaurs. The fair is a time for fun, rides, yummy food, flower show, racing, rodeos, destruction derby and a lot more than I can name. Lots of fun activities for the kids, and lots of entertainment with big names. I like to go for two things. That is the flower show and the horse racing. I used to enter craft things and the poetry contest, but do not anymore as the standing in line to enter is too much for me. I have won a few ribbons and I treasure them, but I just cannot do it anymore. Back many years ago, there was a lady who was in charge, and ran the big flower show in the back of the building, where garden clubs had their spaces. The front of the building was for florists and nurseries from all over the county. Well, one year when my young son had a job working in the flower building, and before the fair opened that year, he approached the lady in charge, (Mrs. Fletcher) and asked her why there were no spaces allotted to young people who were interested in flowers. She asked him if he was interested, and if she provided such a space, would he be willing and able to do it. Of course he was ecstatic and said absolutely. She told him she would have to run it by the fair manager (Mr. James Lyttle) first before she could let him have a space. Oh my gosh, it happened, and there he was, my young son, the very first junior to have an entry in the Sonoma County Fairs Hall Of Flowers! They even gave him a ribbon for his entry. How proud he was. The following year, Mrs Fletcher found two others who were interested. Then there were three. The next year as word had gotten around, there were more until today, the spaces allotted, are all filled up. It is a joy and pleasing to the eye to go to the fair and see all the gardens of the young people and to know it all started with my son. It is called the junior division. Have you been to a fair lately? It is a lot of fun! Tomorrow I will talk about fair food and a funny story of the past. See you then! ( The above picture was taken of a display in the hall of flowers a couple of years ago)

Honest To Goodness!

Once in a great while when I come home from grocery shopping, There will be something I bought and paid for, but did not get home with. I am telling you that for sure I tell them about it on my next trip and want it to show up in my grocery bag this time without charge. So, last Saturday when I went shopping there were two ladies in line ahead of me. They had not one, but two baskets loaded with groceries and several cases of drinks. They were pleasant ladies and smiled and acknowledged me. I am sure their bill must have been $300.00 or at least near that. My turn came and I visited with the nice guy at the check out stand, gave him my coupons and my Safeway card(which cuts down the price considerably) and said, "No thanks" to the "Do you want help out?" question. When I got home, I sat for a minute, (that's because grocery shopping poops me at my age) then proceeded to put my things away. Out of one shopping bag came one of those green net bags with about 6 or 7 ( I did not count) avocados in it. Wow! Do I love avocados! But hey! I did not buy avocados. Did I mention I love avocados? Oh, yes, I did. Well that is a nice surprise and gift to me. I am sure I could manage to eat all of them over a period of time without them going bad. Then I said to myself, "Do you remember how upset you get when you get home and something is missing? Do you really think these are now yours? Can you eat them with a good conscience? Prices in the store go up because of dishonesty and theft, so if you keep them, you are contributing. O.K! I will take them back, and I did. The guy at the customer service counter was flabbergasted and praised me for being so honest. He did not have to do that, but I guess his surprise made him say it. He was almost sure the owners of the avocados had come back to reclaim them and was given another bag. Well, maybe they had and maybe they had not, but one thing I know for sure is that I felt like a helium balloon floating on air. I had forgotten what a great feeling it is to be honest! Now I love avocados, but even better I like the feeling being honest gives you. It is hard to explain and this is really a small act of honesty, but it still feels good. Can you imagine how I would have felt if it had been a bigger deal. Love that feeling! Try it, you will love it!!

Missy!

I feel like I must write about her. Perhaps if I do it will ease some of the pain I feel. I know it will not help my son, and I so wish I could help him. She belonged to him and she was so in love with him it was a joy to see. Oh, she loved me too, but it was more of a tolerated love because I was her caretaker so very many times when her guy had to make a trip for a few days. The first day or two she did not want to share herself with me, because she just knew he would be coming back through the door any minute and she stood faithfully there waiting for it to happen. When it did not, she then knew it was time to accept my lap and wait patiently for his return. I was the one feeding her now and taking her outside so she accepted the fact he was gone for a while. At bedtime she cuddled up on her pillow and lay quietly by my side. During the next few days she was fine, but would go occasionally to take a sniff at the door. When he did return it was a joyous reunion. It was bouncing and face licking all over the place. It was crouching down and jumping. It was whining to say, "I knew you would come back!" She was five years old when he got her and he had her for thirteen and a half years. What a smart little girl she was. We know she understood every word we said and reacted accordingly. I have to laugh when I look back and remember some of the things she did. When my husband was alive, he sat quite often is his recliner chair. We would put her in his lap when we were running errands and say to her, "You stay with grandpa now!" It got so when we left we would just say to her, "Go see grandpa." Well that little girl was just so upset. She knew we were leaving and she had to wait for us to return. Her head would go down and she walked slowly over to grandpa's chair, turn to look at us, then hop up on his lap and put her head down so she would not look at us. I know the things she did were not much different than anyone elses dog, but don't we all feel that our dog is the smartest? Little Missy was a toy poodle and everywhere we went she attracted attention. Everyone wanted to pet Missy. Her groomers loved her because she was so good and behaved so well. Her veterinarian called her sweet names and hugged her when she had to go in. Yesterday my son had to make a choice of whether to put her to sleep or keep her for a while, just so he could have her for a while longer. He unselfishly chose to let her go. She was blind, deaf, had heart and kidney problems, and had doggy Alzheimer's. She did not know where she was and got lost inside the house. She bumped into walls and stood still just facing furniture and not moving. When she did move she roamed aimlessly throughout the house and would either bump into things or get stuck where she could not get out. Most of the time she slept and slept. We had to pick her up and show her where her food and water were. She would go outside to potty and start to scratch herself and would fall down. A couple of times before we could get to her to grab her she fell off the steps. All this frightened her as we could feel her little heart beating so very fast. Our Missy is gone now, but she still remains with us and will for a while. She will always be in our hearts. If you have ever owned and loved a dog, then you know how we feel. Dogs give you unconditional love and they are forgiving and loyal. They make you feel like you are someone special and if you love your pet, then you will treat it special also. It will return your love a thousand fold!

Going Sailing

Susan’s going sailing
A sailing on the sea
I am going to miss her
And her emails sent to me.
Everyday she sends one
It starts my day off right,
I even get one sometimes
Before bedding down at night.
Oh I have other email friends,
Who always keep in touch
But Susan gives a daily fix
Which I really need so much.
We tell each other secrets
And I ask her for advice
She always answers truthfully
Because she is so nice.
Sometimes she asks me also,
Just what I might think
I tell her very honestly
From truth I do not shrink.
Although I’ll miss her emails
And the closeness that we share
I know that she’s my friend
And always will be there.
Oh Susan’s going sailing
On the great big ocean blue
Smooth sailing I do wish her
And bid a fond adieu.

Just My Opinion Again!

I told this young lady, who is encouraging me to write, that I would like to write about progress. I was hesitant though as I did not want younger people to believe I was out of touch and that my ideas were ancient. She, however, thought I should pen them anyway as she did not believe that some things should ever go out of style. For one thing, how can we as sensible people, disregard propriety, decency, and humility? How can one believe that by openly exposing your body that this is going to make you more popular, look sexy, and somehow make you a better person. What happened to modesty? Why are parents not putting down rules like my parents did? Are you afraid of losing your child's love by teaching them respect of themselves? Do you really accept this? Don't you mind that when they bend over, or stoop down that the crack of their buttocks is exposed? Boys whistle, others giggle, some cringe, and this does not bother anybody? I think the human body is beautiful, but I also think it is personal. You should respect your self and treat yourself with dignity instead of being a conversation piece. A part of my young friends email was especially poignant, and I am going to put it into this blog for it is so good. She wrote: "Some call it progression...I call it regression!" I don't know where this world is headed but I do not like the direction it has taken. Our rights being taken away left and right and the young folks not caring. Education has been so bad in the USA...perhaps they don't even realize what we as a nation are losing. Heck, children of today don't know what it is like to run through fields, climb apple trees or play in the hills. I don't even see the young kids playing hop-scotch, jacks, tag or hide and seek these days, or roller skating up and down the sidewalk. Everyone seems to be connected to something electronic these days. Kids have no imagination anymore. When was the last time you saw a kid with a Yo-Yo?" What she wrote was so true. I could not say it better. Television, electronic games, and cell phones have taken over our young peoples lives. They do not really know the fun of living as a youth. Playing "kick the can" is just one of the joys of playing outside with friends, not sitting on their back side punching a machine or having one implanted in their ear. You might want to buy stock in the hearing aid companies as it will be big business when these kids are old and the machines fall out of their ears because they are deaf! No one works in the fruit anymore, or sets up a lemonade stand, or mows a lawn, or washes the neighbor's car for a few bucks. She is right, imagination has flown out the window. Here is another thing. The big wigs behind the television industry have told us what we like to watch. Gone are the family programs and the Laugh-ins" that were so fun to watch as a family. Now we see crime and more crime. Killings are not enough! We have to watch so much sex that it boggles the mind. I know you people out there don't like what you are hearing and seeing also as I read comments all the time in the paper and magazines. Yet no one takes the initiative to turn off their sets for a day or two in protest, or write the stations, and so on it goes. They are pulling in big money at your expense. If a petition was put out there or a protest march started they would get the idea. I read somewhere where these actors making these film would not let their children watch them, yet they act in them because it means money in their pockets. All the bad things in the world no matter how you hate them are going to remain because someone is getting rich because of it. Call me whatever you want, BUT if you think about it long enough, you might just see the light and agree!

Chocolate and Vanilla

I was asked why I have not written a blog lately and I told the person asking that I did not think anyone would want to hear something from and old lady. She showered me with compliments, (which I fell for) so here I am back again. I have been wondering about a lot of things lately (that is what you do when you get to be this age) and asked myself some questions, but could not answer any. I am sure you have heard the one about stores putting their pharmacies clear to the back of the store which makes all the sick people have to take the long walk back there to get their prescription filled so they can feel better. Maybe someone in their infinite intelligence has thought the walk would do them good. I see a lot of people, young AND old with canes and walkers hiking back there to get what they desperately need. Whose idea was this anyway? Then, I also observed when entering a department store’s front entrance, all the cute and attractive clothes are up front for the little people of the world. Actually, I am talking about the anorexic, skinny as beanpole people. I know! Don’t go off on me! Not all small size people are anorexic or bean poles, but according to what I see on the television set more are than not. Why do the producers of these shows think we enjoy seeing emaciated people? I was skinny (yes that is the word) all my growing up years and into adulthood, but no one thought I looked good. I was made fun of and called names. I was once asked if I could sing because I had canary legs. Oh yes! Skinny was definitely not in. In high school I had to take “rest” because the gym teacher thought I was too thin. That went on until my dad intervened and got me back on the basketball court where I belonged! Well, I got off track there for a minute! Back to the department store. Where are the plus sizes? To the rear of the store! Are they cute and attractive? NO! Some even look like they need ironing. Not all plus sizes are fat either, but some are older and walking clear to the back of a store can be difficult. I guess if I was able to pay top dollar, I could go to a store that was more fashionable and considerate, but I am a K Mart, Wal Mart, J.C. Penney type of women so I will have to make the trek on back to where we won’t be noticed! If you think I am through venting, you are wrong. I will be back with more gripes, maybe tomorrow. It is all right with me if you disagree and have a comment, but don’t get mad. This is all good therapy to get things off your chest and as you young people say, “vent” You know the old saying when there is a difference of opinion, don’t you? It goes “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion! That is why there is chocolate and vanilla!”