Friday, July 31, 2009

Life is Good

Ahhhh, sitting here with the windows open. The smell of newly mown grass fills the air. Temps in the mid 70's, no humidity ( which is SO rare this time of year). Just had a wonderful dinner with my precious grandbabies. Can it get any better than this? I would never have guessed that it could.

A year and a half ago I was at a women's retreat and the one phrase that struck me through and through was this, "God can change the unchangeable." I wasn't sure about that then.

But I am now.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

I Know Someone Who's Been There

Yes, I do know someone who's been there.....and back again. His story left me with chills. I'll relate it another time.





And this one. For all those who are now experiencing painful painful grief.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

A Special Kind of Stupid

Ok, you can call me heartless, but this was my first (and ultimately only) thought when I read this today:

A Swedish couple seeking the golden beaches of the Italian island of Capri were disappointed when their GPS navigation system led them 400 miles off course, landing them instead in the industrial northern town of Carpi.

"Capri is an island. They did not even wonder why they didn't cross any bridge or take any boat," said a bemused tourism official in Carpi.

Ummmm. They wanted to DRIVE from Venice to the Isle of Capri.

Now, maybe I just find this INcredible because of my recent trip to Italy, but wouldn't you at least think that maybe you would have a slight clue as to whether you COULD actually DRIVE to your destination?

OK, find Venice on the northern Adriatic sea side. See that small dot off of Naples? Just south of that is the Isle of Capri.

Carpi? Find Bologna (just south west of Venice) and then go north west.

Now granted, they were at least at some point heading in the direction of Capri and I'll concede that driving through Italy can be crazy.

BUT, 2 hours to get to Carpi and 7 hours to get to Naples?

OK, I either have to assume they are really really directionally challenged, or they are just free spirits who got in a car with a GPS and said, "HEY, let's just take a road trip, how about Capri?" Completely unplanned, never researched, never looking at a map of Italy.

Sounds really liberating being such free spirits. Either that or they are just plain stupid.

Ummm, sister-of-mine. Maybe you shouldn't read this post since you just followed me and Beej around wherever we led you. Even when we got turned around walking in Rome and you knew we were going in the wrong direction, but you just figured we knew where we were going.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

A Great Punch for the History Books

Give one from me Buzz! OH, this is NICE. Youtube must have deleted this video. Unbelievable!!!!!!



Well here's one they haven't yet removed. YET!

Sunday, July 19, 2009

Backyard Menace

He glared at me.

I stood my ground. No, sorry about your luck bud, but you don't scare me.

Then he came even closer.

I said outloud, "Hey, I have a right to be here. This is my deck."

I swear I almost heard him say, "Yeah, but it's MY sky."

Touche.


Saturday, July 18, 2009

Cougar

Just saw this one while watching Mecum Auto Auction. Hilarious!

Two Feet of Real Estate

I get up early on Saturday mornings to go to the local farmer's market. It used to have 20 or so stalls by all the local farmers. One couple always attracts a huge crowd because they grow Ambrosia. Never heard of it? Here it is:





OK, where's the butter? I'm sooo hungry now.

Of course it's too early for corn yet. It's been a cool spring and summer here and it's too early even for the tomatoes.

We lived on five acres growing up. Dad always planted a huge garden. Even though he hated tomatoes, he would begin planting dozens of tomato seeds every February. I never smell a tomato plant (yes they DO smell) without thinking about him. I've even considered a time or two about planting one by his grave, but the thought of digging in a graveyard is a little too Stephen King for me.

Beginning this time of year, we only had to step a few feet outside and bring in fresh corn, tomatoes, green beans, those nasty things we used to call mangoes, but are now considered to be green peppers. We may not have had alot growing up, but we ate well, especially in the summer.

Although my friends tell me I now live in the country, I know better. I live in a rural suburb where everyone has an acre or two. OK, there ARE cows behind us, but that still doesn't count.

I miss having a garden, but it's nice at least being able to buy locally grown fruits and vegetables. The farmers market was normally packed and you have to go right at the time they open or the best things will be gone.

Politics ended up getting in the middle of the market this year. Apparently the "downtown" restaurants began to complain because some began selling breads and homemade foods. So they ended up splitting the market. Most went to the fairgrounds, which allowed the food. So far only two have shown up in the downtown area and there is no crowd.

I spoke with the older couple that will sell the Ambrosia when it's ripe. Apparently they would have had to pay rent at the fairgrounds, a tidy sum. Hey, I'm gonna follow the Ambrosia guy, no matter where he goes.

I do have a bit of "land" where I can always grow tomatoes. It gets messy because Bob puts the tomato cages up in the attic and by the time he gets around to getting them for me, it's too late. Last weekend he said, "Oh yeah, I'll get those cages for you." I said, "Are you crazy? You can't put tomato cages on these things now." Although that is EXACTLY what he did to my poor tomato plants last year.

I didn't mention that Bob doesn't like tomatoes either, did I?

So, he grouses about the tomato plants because this is the BEST place they grow.




THIS is my two feet of gardening real estate. Guess he should have gotten the cages out when I asked, huh?

I decided to just plant cherry tomatoes this year. Every night I come home and there are just a handful that are ripe. When I was a kid, I would have just plopped them in my mouth out in the garden. Now, instead I wait until I've washed them off.

Which leads me to my "Bob's a City Slicker" story. About ten years ago, some of our neighbor friends lived around the corner and always had a huge garden. We had taken some plastic bags and I went to pick some green beans. I told Bob to get some of the corn a few rows over.

A couple minutes later he comes up and says, "I think something's wrong, this corn doesn't look right."

There he was, holding a pristine white-silked baby ear of corn.

I was appalled.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

He had picked the second ear on the stalk. How could he not know that? He seems to know how to do everything else, but getting around in a garden? Not so much.

I threw the tiny, wasted ear of corn down and said, "Get out of the garden, you City Slicker."

Geez.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

When Did This Happen?

Staying up too late again tonight.

And in the middle of watching too much TV and reading too much online, there is Lee Majors. Remember him?

It was a Lee Majors Hearing Aid commercial. Let me tell you, if I could have found an accurate picture of him on the commercial I would have posted it. All I can say is the commercial makes the pic below look like it was taken 30 years ago.




Saturday, July 11, 2009

High School Reunions

I've only attended one. Don't ask me why I even went then.

I was incredibly shy when I was a kid and I had kept in touch with the only person from high school that I really wanted to, but for some strange reason when my 10 year reunion came around I decided to go.

I had long since shed my shyness, had plenty of friends and a fairly successful career. Maybe I just wanted to prove that, I don't know.

My best friend from school and I decided we would attend together without our (then) husbands. They would be bored anyway, so why drag them along.

So I figure we'll go, maybe meet up with a few old friends and have a good time.

But, the minute I walked in the door, some weird, unexplainable thing happened. The person I had become in the last ten years went "poof" and I was instantly transported back into the misery of high school. I had no clue what to say to anyone, I felt stupid, ugly and unpopular.

First off, they have name tags for each of us. AND, the tags included our high school senior picture. Let's put it this way, I didn't "peak" in the looks department when I was in high school. So, at 28, my senior picture was not something I wanted to wearing around on my chest all night. I found some kind of sticker and placed it directly over the picture leaving my name. I knew that some of my old friends would no longer recognize me, but they would remember my name.


Then I spotted a girl I recognized. In high school Shirley had the most unruly hair, thick glasses and if it was possible, was less popular than I was. I remembered her, I remembered being friendly to her when everyone else was really not very nice at all. Ten years later, she hadn't exactly turned from the ugly duckling into a swan, but she had controlled her hair a bit.

Now I expected the "popular" kids to ignore me, not know who I was and not care. But Shirley walks up with this haughty air about her. It was so obvious she was there to make a new impression on everyone and I suppose she was going to start with me. I said, "Hi Shirley." She looks down her nose at me, God knows why and checks out my name tag. I'm thinking, OK fine, we were never really friends, but honest to God, I was about the only person who spoke to this girl in high school.

With my picture covered, she repeats my full name, as if she was trying to recall who I was. I wasn't going to lose any sleep over Shirley not remembering me, so I just stood there looking at her. Then she repeats my name again.

And she says in the loftiest tone ever, "I don't remember you. What were you involved in?"

I had had enough. I looked straight at her and said, "Not a DAMNED thing" and walked off.

The rest of the night I met up with a few old friends and laughed to myself watching the fading popular kids trying to impress each other and people like Shirley still trying to impress everyone else.

Thank God the rest of life isn't like high school. People who know me now never believe I was shy. And I NEVER show them my senior picture.

And I've never felt the need to go to any reunion since. No one would know me anyway, including myself.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Whatever Grandma

I'm sure from the way I talk about my grandkids, most people would assume I'm a big pushover. So yeah, I let them play in the water or make a mess in the house or sometimes stay up later than they should, but that's the priviledge of being a grandparent, isn't it?

But I doubt my grandson would agree that I'm a pushover. I'm from the old school, so I was raised by being whacked a time or two by my parents and it didn't kill me. I knew not to push too many buttons, so I didn't get spanked very often. My brother Mark, well, he just wasn't smart enough to know when to shut up, so he may have a different opinion about the spanking thing than I do.

For the most part, when my grandson was a toddler, I could just tell him no and he was fine. When he was about 18 months old, he threw a tiny hissy fit and threw one of his John Deere toys. I decided it was time to try out the "time out" process. If it didn't work, I would know fairly quickly, but if it did work, that was even better.

We were in the garage with 47 toy John Deere tractors and trucks around us and I said something that must have made him mad. He picked up one of the trucks and threw it across the room. When I told him to pick it up, he just gave me a look.

Since we were in the garage and the corners were all packed I couldn't make him stand in the corner, I said, "OK, now you're going to have to stand by the wall." I picked him up and placed him within a foot of the only bare garage wall. At 18 months, he didn't get it at first. I stood behind him, so my legs could block him from walking away. When he realized he wasn't going anywhere and this "standing by the wall" was punishment he began to cry. It broke my heart, but I knew if we didn't start off establishing what was acceptable in our house and what wasn't, we'd be in big trouble later.

A couple minutes later, I lifted him up and hugged him and told him that we would not allow him to throw his toys. He held on to me for a while, then went over and picked up the toy.

So, we've rarely had to make him "stand by the wall" in the years since. He knows the rules. Shortly after that experiment, Bob was saying something silly to him. He rolled his head around and said in a funny deep voice, "Bop! You need to stand by the wall."

When he was about 3, he began to attend a day care. Until that time, he was watched by another grandmother and I got to watch him on Fridays. Within a short period of time I noticed he began to use a bit of snotty tone to his voice. Snotty tones are a pet peeve of mine and I was not happy to hear it coming from my sweet precious grandson.

I decided to wait until we were playing with his toys and we were just talking about things. Then I asked him if he knew what "tone of voice" meant. He was a sponge during these kinds of times when it appeared he was too deep in playing but I knew this was the best way to get my point across. So I asked him if he could tell the difference between when I said, "No." and when I said, "NNNNOOO" With the second No, he looked up at me very quickly. It got his attention. I said, "Did you tell the difference? Didn't it feel different to you by the way I said the same word?" He agreed. I told him that was called a "tone of voice" and by using a different tone, it leaves a different feeling. It was obvious he got it and I deliberately did not go ahead and bring up times when his tone was bad. I thought it best to wait until the next time and then remind him of our discussion. A time or two of that quelches alot of arguments.

It worked like a charm and years later still does. A few months back he didn't agree with what I had said and he had just the slightest aggravation to his voice. I just turned around to look at him. I didn't need to say anything. HE looked at me and smiled and said, "TONE". So he knew. I then laughed as did he. And there was no more tone to the discussion. It was nice that he recognized it right away.

But the biggie, at least to me was when he was around three. He was sitting at the bar in our kitchen and I was getting him something to eat. He wasn't being very cooperative and I called him on it, maybe I even threatened the "wall". His reaction surprised me. He cocked up his hand toward my face and said the dreaded word. "WHATEVER!" Ok, the one-two knockout of whatever plus the hand......

Oh no, that was simply not going to fly. He knew he had stepped over the line right away,, he hopped off the bar stool and went running. Luckily I was still able to catch up to him, while saying he was going to be standing by the wall. When I reached him, I picked him up by both arms and brought him up to my face and first said , "HEY" with TONE. He looked me in the face and he just burst out crying. He's not a cryer, so I know these are real tears. It was obvious to me that I was not going to accomplish anything at that time by making him doing the "dreaded" wall stance. He was crying like I had thrown him across the room. I just had to hug him. Tightly. Grandma caved, but I said, "Look, I love you, but you cannot talk to me like that. I don't talk to you like that, Papaw doesn't talk to you like that and we don't allow people here to talk like that." He hugged me tight and his crying began to stop. I gave him another "I Love You But" sentences and then we were off playing again.

It was funny from then on though. The "Whatever" had become such a part of his speech back then that even he didn't realize how often he would say it. For the next few hours he would start to say, "What...e.........are you doing?" Kids are pretty darn smart about what they can get away with and where. I don't think he's ever said "Whatever" to me since.

And so I have become a believer in the "standing by the wall" process. I doubt it works for all kids, but it's been easy with the grandkids.

Last month his little sister got her first experience of the standing by the wall. She threw chalk down in the garage. I told her that was not nice and to go pick it up. Well, she's her own child so she proceeded to stick out her lip, folded her arms and just stood there. I told her twice and then told her that she would have to stand by the wall. No change. It was a standoff. She's a bit more of her own personality than that of her brother. We don't have her as often as we did her brother, so maybe she thought I was a pushover.

I literally walked her over to the chalk and she still just kept her arms folded. I took her arm and moved it toward the chalk. NOPE, she deliberately left her hand in a fist. OK, garage wall here we come. She cried right away and I let her cry.

In the meantime her brother is dancing around like a Native American laughing at her standing by the wall. I warned him that he would be next if he didn't stop, but I stiffled a laugh at his antics. After a couple minutes I stooped by her and asked her to go pick up the chalk. Nope. OK, another couple minutes while her brother and I continued to play games in the garage, ignoring her crocodile tears. I said again, "Now are you ready to pick up the chalk?" "yes" So, over she went, picked up the chalk and we all went back to playing normally. She wasn't happy about not winning the standoff, but she was fine a minute or two later.

Honestly the chalk think wasn't a big deal, but I knew from her stance that she thought she would get away with anything at Grandma and Papaw's house and I felt it was time for her to learn that there are rules at our house and there are consequences when she breaks them.

I gotta tell you, it's easy when they visit. They don't question us when we tell them to do stuff. That's not to say they still aren't kids and they still don't pull our strings occasionally. We don't want Stepford kids after all. But we don't have a couple of bratty kids with nasty tones running the house when they are here. All four of us enjoy our time together since we don't have to spend our time now doling out punishment every 5 mintues and we're also not overrun by bratty kids to rule the house.

And as a side benefit, I use "TONE" at work. It's a joke of course, I explained it was what I said to my grandson and when someone's getting a little irritated having to explain something to me mostly as a joke, the "tone" drifts into the conversation. I just say "TONE" (which is now being picked up by everyone else directed back at me) and everyone laughs and it breaks the tension and gets the "toner" to readjust the discussion. I even had someone IM me "TONE" when I asked why they had done something. I IMexplained "WHY?" was tone, "why?" was not. It's quite entertaining to the entire group.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

How many do you remember?

Chalk Boards

Mimeograph

Three Channels

Jiffy Pop

Mr. Misty's

Adding Machines

Carbon Paper

White Out

TelStar

Sputnik

1968 assassinations

Hot Wheels Tracks

Real doctor's house calls

Home Ec

Workshop

KoolAid

Jump Rope

Hop Scotch

Dirt Clods

Movie Cameras

Brownie Cameras

Popping the bubbles in the hot asphalt with your bike tires.

Kick The Can

Crack the Whip

Paper Dolls

Green Ghost Game

Johnny Quest Game

Mr. Potato Head

Silly Putty

Etch a Sketch

Transistor Radios

AM Stations

Lost in Space

Car 54 Where are You

Branded

Betsy McCall

Sparkledy Paints

Perry Mason

Alfred Hitchcock

Lindner's Ice Cream - Hmmm, Hot Fudge Pecan Ball

Jerry's Restaurant

Jump Ropes

The Beehive

Pete Steffey's

Effie's

Moon Walk - NOT Michael Jackson's

Tilt a Whirl

Detasselling corn

Bailin' hay

Mini Bikes

Sloppin' the hogs

Stokin' the coal furnace

Hippy Vans

VW Beatle

Kent State

Sea Monkeys

Hula Hoops

Francie Dolls legs bend

headlight buttons on the floor

push button transmissions

6 pack decorations

swag lamps

perculators

Lilies of the Field

Room 222

That Darned Cat

The Flying Nun

metal ring horns on the steering wheel

lightning bugs

Console TVs

Black and White TV

Twiggy

Mod Squad

Pixie Cut hairdos

Clip on earrings

Cracker Jack prizes

Chocola

Pixie Stix

jacks

Magic Rocks

Nutter Butter

Tang

Peanut Butter and Marshmellow Cream

Manual typewriters with a carriage return bar

Glass Milk Jugs delivered by the Milk Man, packed in ice in the summer

Wood panelled walls

Cardboard fireplaces for Christmas

Real lead icycles for Christmas

Playing in the sprinkler on hot summer days

Snapping bushels of fresh green beans under a shade tree

Finding bushels of morel mushrooms in May

Laying in the back window of the car on road trips

American Bandstand

Haley Mills

Mr. French

Paul Dixon

Ruth Lyons

Party line phones

Falstaff

Double Cola

That Was the House That Jack Built
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