Entry for December 29, 2006 - The Party's Over...

The party is over,... before it has even begun...

Christmas is finally over. The presents all unwrapped, the last of the Christmas cards no longer trickling in the mail. The tray of sweet confections looking sad and forlorn and almost empty, pilaged for coconut bonbons, peanut butter balls, and the cherry mash. Bright Christmas lights still twinkle in the night from far off houses down the block, but somehow not as festive looking as when they first appeared. My new little Christmas tree, how proud and tall it stood for it's few days. Soon after the holiday in the middle of one day,...it just fell over and went..."kerplunk", as if to say,.... it is done. The party is over....

Well, that is til New Year's.

I have never been one to get too excited about the New Year. Most years I don't even stay up til the stroke of midnight. It's just another day to me. I have been reading blogs on the history of celebrations and traditions and superstitions, and I don't think I have done even one of them. I have never had black eyed peas, eaten greens, or followed any of the suggestions for a prosperous new year. Perhaps I should, perhaps there really is something to it, but then again perhaps not.

This year though, I am prepared. I have bought my bottle, or dare I say "bottles" to ring in the New Year....

My bottle of aspirin.
My bottle of Tylenol.
My bottle of Ibuprofen.
My bottle of cough syrup
My bottle of Pepto Bismal.
My bottle of vitamin C tablets.

Served along with a dose of hearty appetizers of Sudafed, Nyquil, cough drops and a large box of kleenex.

I got an extra present at Christmas,.... someone gave me their cold and flu.



But the party must go on.....Prop me in a corner somewhere, and stick a mirror under my nose from time to time to see that I am still breathing.




"Cough......cough.......groan......kerplunk"

Entry for December 24, 2006 - At Christmas

AT CHRISTMAS...

A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year;
He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here;
Then he's thinking more of others than be thoughts the months before,
And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for.
He is less a selfish creature than at any other time;
When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime.

When it's Christmas man is bigger and is better in his part;
He is keener for the service that is prompted by the heart.
All the petty thoughts and narrow seem to vanish for awhile
And the true reward he's seeking is the glory of a smile.
Then for others he is toiling and somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas he is almost what God wanted him to be.

If I had to paint a picture of a man I think I'd wait
Till he'd fought his selfish battles and had put aside his hate.
I'd not catch him at his labors when his thoughts are all of pelf,
On the long days and the dreary when he's striving for himself.
I'd not take him when he's sneering, when he's scornful or depressed,
But I'd look for him at Christmas when he's shining at his best.

Man is ever in a struggle and he's oft misunderstood;
There are days the worst that's in him is the master of the good,
But at Christmas kindness rules him and he puts himself aside
And his petty hates are vanquished and his heart is opened wide.
Oh, I don't know how to say it, but somehow it seems to me
That at Christmas man is almost what God sent him here to be.

by Edgar Guest

Entry for December 23, 2006 - The Path of Least Resistance

There comes a time in life when you realize it is easier to take the path of least resistance.

There also comes a time when you realize you have turned into your mother.

Today, it was both....

I use to always tease my mom about becoming like her own mother. My grandmother is quite an eccentric character. She is a hoarder and a saver. I am sure that a lot of it is from living thru the Great Depression. She will save anything she thinks that might be of use. Thankfully she has not gotten to the point of there just being paths in her house, but she does have more than her fair share of "stuff" lying about.

I have mentioned in other blogs how my grandmother is a tiny woman. She eats like a bird. That is why it is so ironic that she should have in her house, more than one refrigerator, and two freezers. Each one of them is packed with food. Some in bags, some in containers, all labeled neatly with a date of when it was encased in it's frozen tomb.

The main problem is that one woman can not eat that much, nor does she know or remember where she has put the neatly labeled leftovers. She will dig for hours for a beef roast that she bought two weeks ago, and in the event that she can not find it, she will buy another one to cook for family that comes to visit the next day. It's easier....just to give up and go buy another one. I am not sure if she continues to look for the misplaced roast after her company has gone, or if she just adds another package of neatly labled leftovers to her burgeoning stash of frozen foods. Some of which, I know have not seen, nor will see the light of day for probably another decade. It makes me nervous thinking about my mom becoming just like her mom. I am glad to report that my mom only has one fridge, and one freezer.

When my oldest brother got married, my mom was determined to find just the right dress to wear to the occassion. The colors the bride chose for her wedding were black and red, so my mother picked out a very suitable and pretty black dress. She wore it to my brother's wedding and looked nice in it. It wasn't even a year later, when she found herself invited to another wedding. She claimed she had to go shopping...shopping for another new dress. I asked her about the dress she wore to my brother's wedding. In complete seriousness she looked me in the eye and said she couldn't wear it. I asked her why, and her reply...."because I would have to iron it".

I know there had to be a look of pure dumbfoundedness on my face. I thought back to those hours and hours we went from store to store to find that dress, and she would not wear it again because she would have to iron it!

I remember as a child my mom ironing. The more I thought of it, I couldn't remember my mom ironing so much as we go older and in high school. Today my mom refuses to buy anything that requires ironing or dry cleaning. For her, the path of least resistance,...(or getting out of ironing), more than made up for the time and cost involved in shopping.

I start to worry more when I think about things being hereditary....

Today I braved the crowds of last minute shoppers. I brought home a box that was only about 5 inches wide, and 3 and a half feet long. In that small box was a 4 foot tall Christmas tree (once it was unfolded),complete with it's own stand and bought on clearance... dirt cheap. A few moments of adjusting the flattened branches and it was placed on top of a large crock, and standing proudly in the corner. After only a couple of minutes of crawling over the lawn mower and a tiller in the garage, to get to the rubbermaid tote of stored Christmas decorations,... I had my tree up and decorated. One strand of lights, one long beaded garland (wrapped many,many times around the tree) 2 dozen assorted red ornaments and one star for the top of my new tree.... Well once the star cooperated..... The uppermost point of the tree had to be bent back down and doubled to support the star, or else it drooped much like a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.

I stood back to admire my handi-work. The tree (looking very much like a manical lumberjack had stolen the bottom of it), otherwise was going to pass muster. I thought of the old artificial 7 foot Christmas tree out in the garage in a box that had been taped and retaped dozens of times. Of the two wood green sticks that made it's trunk, the individual branches each color coded and having to be sorted thru and then poked in it's coordinating hole. The numerous attempts to try and balance the tree in it's stand, while not having it fall over or lean too badly. The many strands of lights, and decorations, and boxes of other ornamentation of Christmas's past.

Today I have my tree up.....

I took the path of least resistance, and for just a moment, I knew what my mom meant about the ironing.

Entry for December 22, 2006 - Three French Hens....

Well here it is....three days before Christmas. No my blog isn't really going to be about three French hens, but I had planned on doing a blog of Vic's 12 days of Christmas starting with my 12 excuses for not having anything done, and then ending with one Christmas tree in it's box. Time got away, I still don't have everything done, and the tree is still in the box out in the top of the garage.

But I have made progress....

Tuesday afternoon I was a woman on a mission. I hooked up with my mom and we were going shopping. We were both going to get done. I use to think two heads are better than one when it came to shopping. We would divide and conquer. I am not so sure we conquered much except for our checkbooks. I was in the mall, looking at scarves and matching hats. They were funky, and glittery, and wispy, and just the kind of thing that would be perfect for my two nieces. It's hard to shop for kids that are no longer kids, but still aren't quite teenagers either. I put the scarf back on the rack to get another one, the first one was missing it's tag. In less than the span of 2 seconds, the scarf was snatched up by an elderly woman in a grey coat.

I hurried over to another rack to look at sweatshirts, the woman soon followed me. She peered over my shoulder and then looked at the other side of the rack directly across from me. There I was in the mall being stalked by a little old lady. I was ready to call for security, and have them rush in with their tazer guns and haul her away. But I soon realized, she wasn't stalking me......she was desperate. She was another one of those panicked last minute shoppers who hadn't a clue. I wanted to yell across the rack at her, I can't help you... I am in my own shopping H E double hockey sticks. I ended up loosing her in the baby aisle but I did pick up a cute pink furry jacket with matching teddybear hat with ears.... No, the jacket isn't for me, but for my brother's newest grandbaby.

I went to the post office to mail two packages. I stood in line forever. Monday was suppose to be the busiest day for the Post Office, so I figure Tuesday shouldn't be as bad. When I finally made it up to the desk and handed over my two packages I was asked how I wanted them sent. I refrained from retorting thru the mail...duh... Then the postmaster rambled thru the different kinds of shipping. Five to seven business days it would be 10 bucks, or if I wanted I could get guaranteed delivery for the next day for 30+ dollars. I looked at the package that I had just insured for 50 dollars and mumbled I will take the first one. Good grief,... take it by the pony express at those rates, just so long as it gets there before the kid grows out of the clothes is all I ask.

I came home and wrapped and wrapped in a frenzy. In between breaks I would make more candy for plates to be delivered this week-end. I checked over my list, crossing off things I just wasn't going to get done. I made big slashes thru all the cookies. Everyone makes cookies, forget the cookies, I would concentrate on just the candy. I got to looking over the stuff I had made and realized hmmmm, I have a lot of chocolate stuff. Fudge, cherry mash, peanut clusters, they all had chocolate. Chocolate mint bonbons, coconut bonbons dipped in chocolate, was there anything I had made that didn't have chocolate? I spied the peanut brittle...ah ha!..no chocolate. I started to figure up all the pounds of sugar, and butter, and chocolate I had used, and I winced. I would be personally responsible for at least 50 people in the tri-state area putting on 2 pounds from the sweets. But I blew it off....it's Christmas, you can't have Christmas without chocolate. I am sure Sue and Mike of the blogging world will understand. I did have visions though, of them tieing me to their bowflex as some sort of torture device and making me row or ski, or whatever it is that a bowflex does while they cracked the whip and whispered fiendishly in my ear..."no more chocolate". I want to yell out that I have cut back, I am not making cookies that has to count for something!

Or I thought I wasn't going to make cookies.... Zim posted not one but two blogs on gingerbread. Doesn't she know that gingersnaps and molasses cookies are my favorite Christmas cookies? I got to weakening and told myself, okay just one batch of gingersnaps for me. In the next minute I was telling myself ...no...no more cookies. I still don't know which side of me will win that debate.

I finished all my shopping, and all the wrapping is done. I sat down and wrapped till I got every parcel encased in bright paper and ribbons while jamming out to Stevie Nicks, Heart, and Bon Jovi....no Christmas carols for me this year...I am caroled out. My packages are all piled up around....the lazyboy. I had a small moment of giggling fits while thinking of stringing lights on the recliner, but I got control of myself. Eventually I might get the tree up,..... I still have time.

As I sit here drinking my diet coke, I mentally pat myself on the back. Surrounded by all that candy and I haven't gotten into any of it. Well, I did have one peanut butter ball,... but peanut butter is good for you.
Still, I have resisted, I will pack it up and give it all away.....Okay I might have licked a spoon, or a bowl along the way.... There might be just one or two sticky fingers.

I really should get back to work. Still have pretzels to dip and toffee to make. Plates to make up, and a tree to find.

One more sip of my diet coke....and I am off....

.....to secretly lick the chocolate off my keyboard.

Entry for December 20, 2006 - Cherry Mash

I mentioned the other day I was busy making candy for Christmas and one of the things I made was candy mash. I thought everyone knew what cherry mash was, the recipe is based on an old fashioned candybar (if you can call it a bar) that is popular here in the midwest. Cherry mash has been around for decades and it consists of a cherry flavored center covered in chocolate and peanuts. The candy is shaped like a "mound" and is sold individually. To make the homemade recipe version it is made in a 9 x 13 inch pan and cut into squares when the candy has set up....

.... For Bonnie, and Mac, and anyone else who has never had cherry mash......


CHERRY MASH

2 cups sugar
2/3 cup evaporated milk
12 large marshmallows
1/2 cup butter
dash of salt
6 oz.package of cherry flavored chips (about 1 cup)
1 teaspoon vanilla
12oz. package chocolate chips
3/4 cup peanut butter
12 oz. crushed salted peanuts

Boil sugar, milk, marshmallows, butter and salt together five minutes (do not start timing till the surface bubbles all over). Add cherry chips and vanilla, and stir till chips are melted. Pour into a buttered 9 x 13 inch pan. Melt chocolate chips and add peanut butter and peanuts. Mix well and top cherry mixture with the chocolate mixture.( Cherry mixture will have started to set up but will be soft in the middle so spoon it over carefully). Let set until firm, and cut into small squares.

Bon appetite!

Entry for December 17, 2006 - Peppermint Crunch...

Earlier this month Teddy asked us all to write a blog on Christmas memories and the month has been passing so quickly. Looking at my last entry it has been days. I want to blame it on the holiday and all it's trappings, and then I look around and realize the tree is still not up, presents still need to be bought and wrapped, and the cookies....all the cookies and candies yet to make. Procrastination during the holiday season is not a good thing.

I tried to think of what I would blog on for my Christmas memories blog for Teddy. I could write about the country school programs at Christmas time, the lines upon lines we had to learn for our parts. The tiny basement auditorium crammed with everyone's parents and relatives. The walking across that old wooden stage with a roll up curtain, made of some kind of cloth that had advertisements painted on it. How I would sit there and read them, between the curtain rise and fall..

I could blog on Christmas caroling, visiting the elderly and singing in the frosty air. Shaking those flashlights when the batteries were giving up before the last verse was sung. Of the old German man who lived next door to me, who always sang along with us and handed us out candy as we sang Silent Night to him.

I thought about blogging on the big sledding parties we had as children. In the small town I grew up, sawhorses would block off one of the main streets that was on a hill. Adult and child showed up alike to slide down the hill on their sleds with red runners. Flashing caution lights put up after dark to continue the sledding, and later big mugs of steaming hot cocoa to warm our little bodies up.

I realized that a lot of you may have similiar memories on caroling, reciting lines for Christmas plays, and sliding down your own big hill. What to write about?...

I thought about Teddy's blog on his train set and new six shooters. I can still envision him galloping about, shooting at imaginary bad guys, and his little sister. I thought about Cyn's blog on her new bicycle, such a touching blog and one of the best Christmas stories I have read so far this year. I tried thinking on just what could I recall from Christmases past, that stood out from others. What toy or object had I begged Santa for, and I came to the realization, that I never really had one toy that I yearned for under the Christmas tree.

I don't ever remember asking Santa for anything specific. But somehow "Santa" always knew what would tickle the fancy of this blogger. One year there was a camera, one year a boom box, the toy selections were always unexpected....a surprise. I don't remember being disappointed as a kid. Toys were only ever bought for birthdays and Christmas. Those toys were played with hard, and with all the enthusiasm possible. Some years, were not as abundant as others, but the surprise factor was always there.

Hmmm, so much for blogging on a favorite cherished asked for toy....

There was one Christmas though.... we were older, I was almost 10, my older brother 12, and my youngest brother 9. Our delusions about Santa were long gone. Very early in the morning of that Christmas day, I was awake, and lieing in bed. It was still dark outside and the house was so quiet. I heard a door open from my parents bedroom. I heard the rustle of .a brown paper sack....and then....a "thud"....

Mom....um, er...I mean "Santa" had dropped something in the hallway. There was a pause, evidently to pick up the dropped item, another few steps...and another...."thud...thud". The rustling of that paperbag, and yet another..."thud". Either the bag had a rip in it, or "Santa" was still half asleep and unable to see in the dark.

I knew where "Santa" was going....she was going to fill our stockings. We always opened presents on Christmas eve, and had our stockings to open on Christmas morning. Our stockings always held a large juicy orange, shelled peanuts in the toe of the stocking, small gifts, sometimes money, and always candy....peppermint candy canes.

There was another thud, Santa wasn't being so quiet now. There was mumblings. More steps, more things dropped and then......a very loud exasperated whisper...."Oh Cornfeathers!".....

I heard the laughter in my dad's voice as he ask quietly down the hall from the bedroom...."drop someting Santa?".... my brothers were awake now, giggling and snickering. I tried to stifle my own. I could hear my mom start to giggle as she finally made it down that darkened hallway to fill our stockings. She no longer made any effort to be quiet.

We waited a few more mintues before stirring, mom had gone back to bed, still giggling.

We sat around that Christmas morning with our stockings. There was the big orange, the nuts, the small gifts,... and the terribly crushed peppermint candycanes.

I know of the story behind the candycane, about the shape of it being a shepherd's hook, the meaning of the red and white coloring...

But when someone mentions candycanes, .......crushed ones from Santa, always come to my mind.

Entry for December 06, 2006 - T'was a Blog Before Christmas...

T'was a blog before Christmas, and all across the internet,

Blogs were being posted,  and more comments to write yet.

A stocking was gone, taken by a pink thief,

Vero's hope  that cold toes, would soon find relief.



Beautiful poems, composed and written by Farrell,

Promises by Judy, of visits to Cracker Barrell.

Teddy bears crafted and sewn by a nice guy,

Buffy's new home, many things yet to buy.



Fun graphics, a coloring challenge, given by Shandie,

Adament refusal from Sue, of anything made of candy.

Gloggy and Wukky, continuing a feud,

A splog by Spotty of  sex and of lewd.



The moon of a Possum, posted from down under,

Mahvin gone missing, we all start to wonder.

Snowballs being tossed, and posted so quick,

It must be that Misty, up to old trick.



Just when I think I have surely seen it all,

Jim's head in a snowbank,... abnormally large nostril.

Recipes and cooking of Mac's a big passion,

More pics and modeling of Angie's new fashion.



On Theresa! On Lara! On Hill Billy and Zim!

On Lor! On Lela! Blog on,...on  a whim.

On rednecks and roadkill, whatever you think,

On Bubbas and JD's, a little flirt and a wink.



Fran, and Judy, and Bonnie, new bloggers are posting,

Your time is soon coming, expect a good roasting.

Smiles and giggles and pictures by Sue,

Cutting and pasting without any glue.



A blog on elves, imps, a little Pixie,

Laughing My Arse Off, with a Southern Dixie.

Sombre and provoking blogs by Silverfox,

Wish hugs could be sent thru this little box.



Quiet bloggers Sprk, Maria, and Gingamgal,

My newest blog friend, Sue's hubby - Michael.

More bloggers showing, on my friend's list,

Too quiet, no blogs, oh what they miss!



My eyes how they twinkle, the grins are contagious,

Your stories and antics, they can be outrageous.

The giggles they start, in a small rumble,

How can anyone even post, a tiny grumble?



My fingertips poised above keyboard, mid-air...

A serious comment by me, often quite rare.

A stifled giggle, laugh, or another big snort,

Compounded daily, by a similiar cohort.



Sometimes blogging and writing seems like hard work,

Hopefully most times, I don't seem like a jerk.

Thinking and typing,..typos I do make,

Backspacing, rereading, time it does take.



Sitting and reading in my computer chair,

Of friends and blogs, and of people,  I do care.

Holiday wishes  of Peace and good cheer,

Oft times, I am ...a big pain, in the rear!

Entry for November 30, 2006 - Seeing Double

As usual I am behind in blogging. I was going to post this blog yesterday after our day of fun from the Celebrity look-alike page. Time got away from me and well, I am still in denial about the celebrities chosen as my look-alikes.



I have sat here for awhile, trying to see the correlation between me and the people listed on my last blog. I try and squint harder to see just what it is that the computer program saw to lump me with these certain celebrities. Frowning, I am guessing that maybe, just maybe Art Garfunkel and I have the same hair dresser. Maybe there is a hint of my chin in one of the other celebrity pics....but the Dalai Lama still has me floored. Perhaps I elude a sense of lightness and peace? ....nah...I don't buy that either. Oh well, I do take some comfort in knowing that it was my "fun" avatar pic that I uploaded. I did try the website again with two other "real" pics of me. My top match was with some celebrity I have never heard of, and it was only at 61 percent. There was also a couple of guys, two asians, at a match of around 50 percent and at the very end trailing at 48 percent was.....Shirley Temple.



Shirley Temple? Well that blew any visons of me being a femme fatale, even in my own eyes. I mumbled and grumbled, it wasn't fair! I didn't get any Christie Brinkleys, Raquel Welchs, Jennifer Anistons, or Ashely Judd matches. Even when I was being serious, the joke was on me.....(sigh).



I got to thinking who would I want to be my match? Elizabeth Taylor?...(in her younger years of course)...Sophia Loren?....Catherine Zeta-Jones? Any of them would have been preferrable. I guess I can count myself lucky. It could have been worse. My matches could have been Phyllis Diller, Sigmund Freud, or Winston Churchill. My celebrity matches were never high in the percentage points, so I guess maybe I really don't resemble any particular celebrity....just parts of them... a nose...a chin...a smile...hair...



I have  a friend who has a daughter who looks exactly like Rachel Ray. She  hears that a lot, and I am sure she must grow tired of the comparisons. One of my cousins looks the spitting image of Jennifer Love-Hewitt. It's not fair, to be pretty AND look like a celebrity....(another sigh).



I have a twin brother but we are not identical, we don't even look that much alike. They say however, that somewhere in this world each of us has a twin, someone who looks just like us. I find that both fascinating and a bit creepy. I wonder if their life parallels mine or if they are completely opposite and just look like me.



A couple of years ago, I stopped in at the grocery store after work late at night. It was close to midnight and the store was almost empty. I was walking down the aisle and saw two guys at the end of it. They both had long hair and looked like bikers who had stopped for late night munchies. One of the guys was short, or at least short for a guy. He couldn't have been any taller than me and I am 5'6''. As I opened up the freezer case, I felt him give me a playful punch in the arm...he then grabbed a bottle of ketchup out of my cart and exclaimed..."what are you buying this for?". Before I could mumble, "because I have a coupon",...I saw the dawning in his eyes that I was a case of mistaken identity. He dropped the ketchup and profusely apologized and mentioned he thought I was someone else. I smiled and replied, "no problem". As I went through out the store shopping, I occassionally passed him  in another aisle. He would then apologize over again. I don't think he finished his shopping. He and his friend bolted quickly. As they exited out the door, I heard him say,... "wow she looks just like so and so".



It has happened to me more than once. At a local pizza place, out shopping, even at McDonalds. Someone has walked up to me, started talking and then realized I was not who they thought I was. Hmmm, could it be possible that my "other" twin was out there, and lived just a few miles from me?



Spooky....



I have never come across her though. I wonder if anyone I know has walked up to her and mistook her for me? I don't know what I would do if I came face to face with her. When I think about there being someone out there in this big world of ours that looks exactly like me, the first thing that comes to my mind is....you poor thing... I would then have to break it to her gently about Simon Garfunkel, Andy Warhol,  and the Dalai Lama.



I guess even if I were to look like a big famous celebrity, I would still be me. We would just share common physical characteristics and most likely the comparisons would stop there. I don't have the fame, the fortune, or the glamour of their life. I am just Vic...from Nebraska...with the big hair.



It's enough for me...





...anybody want my autograph?...(wink)

Entry for November 28, 2006 - Celebrity look-alikes...

>".



The Dalai Lama? Good Grief!



Thanks Misty for the fun page of celebrity face recognition from your blog!



I might have to go lie down now.......it's been too traumatic....lol

Entry for November 26, 2006 -Naughty or Nice?

Since Cyn and I have taken our new part time jobs at the North Pole, we have gotten to take a peek at Santa's naughty or nice list. I won't tell you on which side of the list you are on, but I will give you a second chance to redeem yourselves and make it off the naughty list.



Tell me the biggest whopper...um....er.....story of how good you have been this year and the reason why you should be on Santa's NICE list....



The winning entry will get the grand prize of a....



...."Deluxe Pink Sock Puppet"...



Generously donated....(okay it was kinda..um...'borrowed') from Vero...







....let the fibbing begin.....(lol)

Entry for November 24, 2006 - Black Friday

Black Friday....



It's that Friday immediately following Thanksgiving when the official holiday season opens. It is supposedly called Black Friday because it is when those retailers who have been operating in the red all year, suddenly are in the black...making a profit.



I know it is one of the biggest shopping days of the years. People set their alarms clocks at ungodly hours in the morning to rush out and save a few bucks on big tins of popcorn that contains three different varieties,  or to get toys or electrical gadgets, or buy Christmas cards at half price.



I'll admit it, I went shopping. I didn't get up early though, I didn't rush around with a big smile on my face humming Christmas carols.... I was on a mission. This Black Friday was going to have another meaning in my household today.



Last night I had a visitor..... An unwelcome houseguest.... A freeloader...



It was night time, I was settling down from a day of doing nothing particularly exciting or memorable. When "he" arrived... a small dark shadow. I almost missed him, I looked again, was it my imagination? No, I saw him...I saw ......a mouse.



Ohmygosh...a mouse! I haven't seen a mouse in years! Living next to a cornfield on the East side of my place, and an open field on the South side of the house, it isn't unreasonable to expect to see one eventually. I ran for the broom....where did he go? I spied a small bookcase... he had to be behind there...I thrust the broom behind the bookcase......He jumped...I jumped.... he ran...I ran... in the other direction.



Good grief... what a wimp I have become! A mouse... a little mouse, how could it get my heart to racing and send a woman scurring so fast? I peeked back in the room...where was it? I should have stayed and paid attention....but being the chicken that I was...I ran for my life. I mentally told myself, well it could have been rabid. It could have ran up my leg and bit me. It could have have done something ....(don't roll your eyes blog people....it could have!)...



I kept my broom close by all night. I couldn't sleep well...I don't like having unwanted houseguests. It was either me or him...and well, I have got first dibs. I resolved to buy whatever it took to rid me of my unwanted squatter.



I got to thinking, boy, have I gotten wimpy in my old,... um... middle age. It use to be a mouse never would have phased me. I am finding as I get older though, I am getting wimpier, more squeamish, and I am not sure why...and I don't like it.



When I was a little kid around the age of seven, I belonged to a group that was all girls. We once went on a tour of different places to learn about businesses on a type of field trip. Afterwards we all went to the mall to shop before going home. I only bought one thing on that trip. I carried my purchase with me and sat in the middle of the backseat between two other girls on the ride home. There perched on my little knees was my precious cargo. It was a red carboard box with a handle and holes punched in the side. In my box was ....a mouse. I had seen him at the petstore and it was instant chemistry. I wanted to take the mouse home with me, to be my newest and bestest friend and pet. All the way home the woman who was driving the car would yell back,..."you have it in the box don't you? ...keep it in the box and don't open it up!"....I meekly replied..."yes ma'am" as we tried to stifle our giggles while passing the little creature back and forth.



You have to give kudos to my mom. She didn't yell, she didn't faint, ...but she was flabbergasted. Of a family of four kids, three of them being boys, she naturally expected it would be one of my siblings presenting her with a mouse in a cardboard box and not her one and only daughter. My mouse and I were best friends for about 3 weeks and then I lost him.....(uhoh). A year or two later I then was the proud owner of a gerbil. It was a mean gerbil, it bit people, it liked to chew ....a lot. I can't remember what happened to him, but I think my mom claimed he got loose one day and was lost too. It is now dawning on me that maybe my little pets never did get lost and were really..... victims.......Hmmmm... (making a mental note to call and ask mom about that later...)



As I sit here writing my blog, my broom beside me. I find my feet unconsciously curling up under me, up off the floor just thinking about the mouse.



This week-end I will go throughout the whole house, ....not leaving anything unturned or overlooked.



His demise is imminent.



I will take no prisoners.



Yes it is Black Friday....



.....for a mouse.

Entry for November 22, 2006 - "Blog Stuffing"...

".





Twas the Night of Thanksgiving



Twas the night of Thanksgiving,

but I just couldn't sleep

I tried counting backwards,

I tried counting sheep.



The leftovers beckoned--

the dark meat and white,

but I fought the temptation

with all of my might.



Tossing and turning

with anticipation,

the thought of a snack

became infatuation.



So, I raced to the kitchen,

flung open the door

and gazed at the fridge,

full of goodies galore.



I gobbled up turkey

and buttered potatoes,

pickles and carrots,

beans and tomatoes.



I felt myself swelling

so plump and so round,

till all of a sudden

I rose off the ground.



I crashed thru the ceiling,

floating into the sky

With a mouthful of pudding

and a handful of pie.



But, I managed to yell

as I soared past the trees...

happy eating to all--

pass the cranberries,please.







".





The Turkey Shot Out of the Oven

by Jack Prelutsky



The turkey shot out of the oven

and rocketed into the air,

it knocked every plate off the table

and partly demolished a chair.



It richocheted into a corner

and burst with a deafening boom,

and splattered all over the kitchen,

completely obscuring the room.



It stuck to the walls and the windows,

it totally coated the floor,

there was turkey attached to the ceiling

where there'd never been turkey before.



It blanketed every appliance,

It smeared every saucer and bowl,

there wasn't a way I could stop it,

the turkey was out of control.



I scraped and I scrubbed with displeasure,

and thought with chargin as I mopped,

that I would never again stuff a turkey

with popcorn that hadn't been popped.







".





Blessings that Remain

by Annie Johnson Flint



There are loved ones who are missing

From the fireside and the feast;

There are faces that have vanished,

There are voices that have ceased.



But we know they passed forever

From our mortal grief and pain,

And we thank thee O' our Father,

For the blessings that remain.



Thanksgiving, Oh, Thanksgiving,

That their love, once blessed us here,

That so long they walked beside us,

Sharing every smile and tear.



For the joy the past has brought us,

But can never take away,

For the sweet and gracious memories

Growing dearer every day.



For the faith that keeps us patient

Looking at the things unseen,

Knowing Spring shall follow Winter

And the earth again be green.



For the hope of that glad meeting

Far from mortal grief and pain--

We thank thee O our Father,

For the blessings that remain







".





HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Entry for November 15, 2006 - The Year of the Gravy

Turkey day is coming soon.



I have read blogs on memories and holiday blues. Times are forever changing and those  holiday memories we hold so dear, we try and hold tighter. We know those were precious times we won't get back.



When I was a small kid we always went to my grandparents for Thanksgiving. We would drive forever it seemed before I saw the wooden "Uncle Sam" that held the mail box in front of my grandparent's farm. We went every year without fail, it was tradition, something that grandma expected of us and something we wouldn't dream of missing.



I use to sit in the corner of that big kitchen, watching the hussle and bustle of my aunts and grandmother cooking. The room would be so hot from the oven and morning stove, but I didn't care. I loved to be in there.... Just to listen... I would try to be invisible just to hear the chatter, to hear stories, and the gossip. A few times my grandmother would notice me in the corner with my big eyes and bigger ears and change the subject. I loved to hear her talk, and talk she did, a mile a minute. I never knew anyone like my grandmother. She knew everyone, their history, their family, everything it seemed.



Grandmother didn't have a large house so card tables and tv trays were set up in the living room and back south room. After filling your plate you would have to jostle for a place to sit. The men always went thru line first, loading their plates and grabbing big glasses of ice tea and they would retire to the back room. Their afternoon would be spent playing cards and the only time we heard from them was when they beckoned one of us kids to find mom or one of my aunts for pocket change for their poker games. The cigar and cigarette smoke would hang thick in the air. Sometimes I watched, but I soon grew bored. The kitchen is where I wanted to be.



As I grew older I would get small jobs to do such as stuff the celery with pimento cheese, put the sweet pickles and olives in the fancy glass dishes...and when I was much older, I got to wield the electric knife to carve the ham, turkey, or roast beef that was always on the table.



My grandmother loved to cook. She was a small woman, barely a hundred pounds. Holidays for her meant dessert. Cakes and pies, and cheesecake and cookies and everything imagineable would be crammed atop the chest freezer on the back porch for dessert. I never knew why such a small woman who never seemed to eat a thing, would splurge when it came to dessert. I learned years later when she told of a story when as a child, her mother never made dessert. Times were tough, her mother would only cook the basics. The hired hands that worked on her parents farm would buy a package of cookies every week for their own dessert. They kept those cookies stored high on top the cupboard and would get them down after their evening meal. The men would eat their cookies and give my grandmother one cookie each night. She told us of being that small child and how she looked so forward to that cookie every night. I think thru the years she has tried to make up for it, to satisfy that sweet tooth of that child in her.



One particular Thanksgiving my mom and one of her sisters were at the stove. Stirring and stirring, talking  and doing a hundred things at once. There was some concern over one of the pots on the stove. A serious discussion ensued. Soon the women were all gathered at the stove stirring the pot, much like doctors in consultation of an ailing patient.



There was a small castrophe in the making. It was the gravy....it was lumpy.



They all  looked it over, stirred and stirred  and it still stayed lumpy. Another pan was brought out, more broth added, the gravy grew...and it was still lumpy. Yet another bigger pan came out, someone grabbed a strainer and another pan.



Then it started...the giggles. They stirred and strained and dirtied more pots and pans and laughed uncontrollably. Finally the gravy was contained in very large pot on the stove top. They had done the best they could to save it...save the gravy. Each of my aunts, my mom, and grandmother would walk by, stir it again, look the other in the eye and start to snicker again. They couldn't look at each other, they couldn't look at the gravy, it would start the giggles, uncontrollable giggles. Too many cooks in the kitchen they would say with another giggle.



The men came thru with their plates, if they frowned and commented on the gravy having a lump, the giggles started again. When the gravy was passed, they couldn't pass it across the table with a straight face.



It was the only year that the gravy was lumpy. At different times thru the years, at different dinners, someone will ask for the gravy. It will get passed and my mom and one of her sisters will smile a wry smile and say..."remember the year of the gravy?"...they still snicker and giggle at the mention of gravy at grandma's table.



Many Thanksgivings have come and gone from that particular one. My grandmother is 86 and there won't be many more Thanksgivings in her future. When she is gone, the farmhouse will be bull dozed in. It is too old, needing too many repairs. The house in past years, isn't quite as full as it was when I was a kid. People have passed, relatives have moved, people make other plans. I often think to myself, weren't we the lucky ones? We knew family, we celebrated family, we were thankful. Times change, traditions change, families are scattered far and wide.



Thanksgiving will be celebrated differently from what a lot of us remember growing up as a child. Some will be surrounded by family. Some will eat alone. New tradtions will be made, and old ones will die out quietly. We will all be thankful for what we have now and what we did have in the past.



I hope each and everyone of you will understand what I mean when I say that  my wish for all of  you this Thanksgiving is ...



....lumpy gravy.

Entry for November 09, 2006 - Numbers

Everyone wants to be number one, the top banana. Just the number it's self denotes being the best, the winner. Ask anyone if they would want to be second or even third and they will most likely tell you no.



I chatted with a friend the other day, he had been out to a new place over the week-end and had gone dancing. I asked him if there was any particular girl that had caught his eye while he tripped the light fantastic. He laughed and said ..."no, they were all seconds". I was a bit taken back. I had never heard it said quite so bluntly.



That surprised me,... it really surprised me. I know the male species (and female for that matter!) are visually oriented. I came away from that conversation feeling a little bit different about my friend because of that comment made, even in jest it didn't set well with me.



Buffy and I have an ongoing gag, vieing for favortism of a mutual chat friend of ours. Buffy claims to be number one, his favorite chat friend, and that I am but a distant second. I just let her THINK that, but we know differently don't we Mr. Momuleskinner....(wink, wink).



No one wants to be considered a second. I thought of how there has always been a class system. The uppercrust, the middle class, and those considered even lower. If you ask most people, they will put themselves in the middle class when it comes to financial consideration. The only time when most will admit to being second.



I have a niece born with a very rare disease. It came as a complete surprise to her parents and her doctors as well. It was a fluke. A single recessive gene that had to be carried by both parents. In her short life so far, she has had more surgeries than most will have in their entire lifetime. I worry about her future. Will those that come across her, think of her as a "second"?



Second...It never really has had much of a positive connotation. Second place, second rate, second hand, second choice, second thought, ...all of them meaning not quite good enough, not what you initially desired.



I got to thinking of my friend's comment. Was it the fact that he had said it to begin with, or the fact that at some time in our lives we have all felt that way?  That someone we have come across in our lives, was a "second"?  How many times have we made a quick assumption and dismissed someone, or blindly passed by not really seeing them? Perhaps it wasn't my friend that had left me unsettled with his comment....but that it was me. He just put into words what so many of us may unconsciously feel but not say.



It's been awhile ago, but one evening I found myself in my usual chat room haunt. It was a slow night, and into the room came two male chatters who I have always considered the two biggest flirts of the room.  I am not exactly a femme fatale, but I was confident I could match their comments, their seductive lines with a volly of flirtatious banter. I was prepared. I would take them both on....I was for the most part, the only available female  in that room at such an opportunistic time. I flipped my pink beehived hair back and mentally whispered...."bring it on boys".



Imagine my shock when after the usual perfunctory greetings, the two men joked and bantered between themselves. It then hit me....there I was with the two biggest male flirts in the room....and I had managed to turn them gay....good grief! Flirt number one and flirt number two had left me a distant third. What a blow to my ego.



Few good things are associated with being second,...second to none, second chance,... not very many that comes to my mind when I think about it. So I asked myself, what is it to be? What do you think of yourself? What would be my "label"? ...a first?....a second?....a third?....maybe even a fourth?



I thought about it a moment and decided I am.... a second. I choose to be a second. Not to be humble or anything of that nature, but to me, being a second means... there is room for improvement. I think all of us have room for improvement.



When you think about it, who would want to be a first...be number one... anyways? After all, when you look at being a number one, there is only one way to go...and that is down.

Entry for November 02, 2006 - Faster...

What in the world happened to October? It's already the 2nd of November and I wonder who stole those days that I seem to have lost. I was going to do a Halloween blog. I was going to make a gaphic of me in a halloween costume, post fun and creepy links, quizzes, and all things Halloweenish. I know I could have made a blog anytime that month on Halloween, but I wanted to wait...wait for that day, it had to be THAT day, and wouldn't you know it.....THAT day came and went. My graphic only got halfway finished, I got distracted, waylaid, ....just busy, and before I knew it was the day of Halloween. I mentally kicked myself and told myself quietly...



"Blog faster....blog faster"...



Every morning I try and get up and get the mundane things of life out of the way before logging on to my blog page. By then you have all come and gone and had a party and all sorts of things. I must be so slow. I blog from page to page and by the time I stop in at everyone on my friend's list (that keep a current blog), it's been about an hour. It takes even longer if you have written a blog and I stop to read it and the comments and then post a comment as well. Yesterday I read a blog and thought and thought on it. I wanted to compose my thoughts into a reasonably intelligent comment, and well....I had to go and just come back to it at a later time. It only added to my blogging minutes. I hate when you have something to say but just can't figure out how you want to say it. Time flies by and before I know it, even more blogs have been posted....



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



Last night I logged on after 10 p.m. I chatted a bit in messenger to an old chat friend who had told me she had spent over 450 dollars to find out her pet bird had a cold. I was thinking for that price it should have come stuffed and served with caviar and a red wine sauce, but I consoled her and listened to her other problems of other pets on medications, a pet that got sprayed by a skunk, and a cat that was hacking up something unintelligible. Before I knew it, it was half past midnight and I still hadn't written a new blog entry or visited everyone's page.



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



I got a message from someone yesterday, apologizing that they had forgotten to leave a comment on my page. They didn't want me to feel bad that I had been left out inadvertantly. I assured them my world would not come crashing to an end and that I wasn't slighted or keeping score. Comments are nice, I enjoy them, but I am realistic in knowing that time is short and blog time seems even shorter most days. I won't be offended if you don't stop. I am glad when you do, but I won't be miffed or hurt if your day is short or if you have nothing to say. I have those days too.



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



I read on a blog that someone is getting broadband and they hope that will help speed up their blogging. I got my broadband modem in the mail and haven't rushed to hook it up yet. Part of me wants to hook it up right this very minute. A bigger part of me is afraid I will blow up something or mess up some computer settings, something that will keep me from blogging on and get me even more behind.



I read a blog from someone on how they were changing the content of their blog. Nothing political, nothing religious, nothing of controversy. I thought to myself....he's done it! He has made a neutral blog...he has become Switzerland. I don't know if I could do that though, refrain from all things controversial. It's not that I like drama, far from it. But some days, some days I think or hear something and want to put in my own two cents worth.



"Blog faster...blog faster"...



In the past few days I have seen some pilgrims and turkeys, and someone even left a comment on Christmas carols.... I feel behind before I even log on here to write a blog. I had a couple of ideas for blogs, and I don't know if the moment has passed for them, but I will keep them in the back of my mind along with other half-baked ideas or thoughts that have yet to come to fruition.



 I read a blog this past week of a guy who wanted to be "one of the herd". He didn't want to stick out or be singled out. I thought that a bit ironic, most people want to be popular and have lots of attention. There are many days I read interesting blogs on happenings in other peoples lives, trips they are taking, places they are going, things they are doing, and I start to get that feeling..............gosh I am boring.



There I have said it...



What all of us fear the most....... boring life equals boring blog....or vice versa...



I enjoy blogging...reading your blogs. They make me laugh, they make me smile, they make me think.

I guess that is all they were originally meant to do.......



Some of us aren't going to have exciting things to write about.



Some of us are just leading quiet lives...



....and it's some of those blogs that I enjoy reading  the most.







Blog faster...blog faster....



...there is a lot to see and read out there....

Entry for October 28, 2006 - It's all about cake....

Vero has claimed it to be all about cake today...A day of just cake... can there be anything better? lol





White Whipped Cream Cake with Caramel Icing



1 cup whipping cream

1 1/2 cups white sugar

Pinch of salt

2 cups flour

3 egg whites

1/2 cup water

1 teaspoon vanilla

2 teaspoons baking powder



Beat egg whites. Whip cream and then whip together. Sift all dry ingredients twice and add alternately with water to which vanilla has been added. Pour batter into a greased and lightly floured 9 x 13 pan. Bake in 350 degree oven until cake springs back in the center with tough of finger. Frost with caramel icing.



Caramel Icing:



1 cup brown sugar

1/2 cup white sugar

1/2 cup sour cream

Pinch of salt

1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1 Tablespoon butter

1 teaspoon vanilla



Cook brown sugar, white sugar, sour cream, and salt to soft ball stage, stirring while cooking. Then remove from heat. Add baking soda, butter and vanilla and let cool. Beat and spread on cake.

Entry for October 27, 2006 - Queen for a Day...

It seems the blog world lately has been besieged with royalty. With Lords, and Earls, and a jester or two, it is no wonder that a queen would soon emerge....



Known by most as JD, it is only in his closest circle of blog friends he is affectionately known as "Queenie".









JD's Top Ten Reasons it's Good to be Queen...



10. People stop and stare when you go by...(okay they already do that, nevermind)....



 9. You get to wear sparklies...



 8. You get to use the scissors during the ribbon cutting at the local grand opening of the PigglyWiggly

 

 7. You can request roadkill for dinner as often as you like....



 6. You are expected to be wierd from decades of inbreeding...



 5. The hats...it's all about the hats...



 4. You can call up the local market and ask if they have Prince Albert in a can,... and really mean it...



 3. You can goose foreign dignitaries and get away with it...



 2. Getting to do the special wave.....



 1. You can make all the bodily noises you want and no one will say a word....

Entry for October 21, 2006 - Ghost Story...

It was a dark and dreary night.



The kind of night that ghost stories are made from...



The moon was bright and full, shining thru the window. It had an eery, almost sinister glow about it tonight.



As I settled in for a good night's sleep,...I heard it. The tiniest "rap, tap, tap" on my front door. Who in the world could be out at this hour I groaned?  It was so late, so dark, my mind started to wonder, and then worry.



I heard it again......"rap, tap, tap"....



Whoever it was, they weren't going away. I searched blindly in the dark for my robe, I fumbled for my slippers. I dragged myself down the hallway, flicking on the light to help me find my way....and my confidence.



What if it was a stranger? Lost and confused and needing directions, or perhaps just pretending to be lost and confused. What if it was really an escaped convict...a burglar....a person intent on doing me bodily harm?



I was fully awake now, my consciousness alive with thoughts of unknown creatures banging on my door. I searched vainly for a weapon, something to fight off an attacker...The rapping was getting louder.



"RAP, ..TAP...TAP"....



I reached the door and flicked on the outside light. All I could see was two shadows.....my heart raced..there was TWO of them!



One I might be able to overpower, with two however, my chances were slim to none. Oh how at that moment I wished I had a baseball bat, like those people have in the movies and tv shows when they confront someone at their door. I wanted to bolt and run, but I had already turned on the outside light.



I took a deep breath.



I squinted my eyes shut for a moment as I heard the unclick of the lock as I slowly opened the door.



My eyes grew wide with horror.....still not focusing on what was before me.



I rubbed my eyes again and gasped.



There they were............Gloggy and Wukky.



They yelled in unison..."trick or treat".



I rolled my eyes and mumbled ,..."you are too early... It's not Halloween yet!"



I slammed the door shut...and as I started to turn away, I stopped.



I opened the door back up and there they still stood...



I yelled at them..."and next time wear a Halloween costume!"....







The End....



">.

Entry for October 15, 2006 - For Sue...

Sue I know all the blogging on recipes lately is really testing your dieting willpower...so today's blog is for you....(((HUGS)))....



TANGY FISH



1 lb. fish fillets

1 cup tomato juice

1/4 cup prepared mustard

1 Tablespoon instant minced onion

1/8 teaspoon pepper



Preheat over to 350 degrees

Place fish in casserole dish. Mix together all other ingredients and pour over fish. Bake 20-30 minutes.







WEIGHT WATCHERS SALMON IN FOIL



2 Tablespoons diet/light margarine

1 Tablespoon mayonnaise

1 Tablespoon lemon juice

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon paprika

1/4 teaspoon dry dill weed

16 oz. canned salmon

1/2 cup celery



Preheat over to 350 degrees

Heat margaine in custard cup set in hot water. Remove from heat and beat in mayo,lemon juice,salt,paprika, and dill. Tear off a large piece of aluminum foil. Place salmon and celery in center of foil and add margarine mixutre on top of salmon. Fold foil together to make a packet. Bake for 20-30 minutes. Serves 2







FRUITY GOOD MORNING DRINK



1 banana

1 cup plain lowfat yogurt

1 cup unsweetened orange juice, chilled

1 and 1/4 cup hulled strawberries

1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract

1 packet artificial sweetner



Blend all the ingredients together in a blender. Pour into four 5-oz. glasses. Garnish with fresh mint.

Per serving - 106 calories.







STIR FRY CHICKEN



1 cup unsalted chicken broth

2 Tablespoons soy sauce

2 Tablespoons Worcestershire sauce

1/4 teaspoon garlic powder

1/2 cup onion, chopped

1 cup celery, diced

    *    *     *

2 cups cooked chicken breast

1  (6oz.) can bean sprouts

1  (60z.) can bamboo shoots

1  (8oz.) can sliced water chestnuts

1  (6oz.) can sliced mushrooms

1  (6oz.) package frozen snow peas



Heat broth in a saucepan until simmering. Add the soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, onion, and celery. Cook for about 5 or 6 minutes. Add the remaining ingredients and cook for 10 minutes. Serve over hot rice. Makes 8 servings, calories per serving (excluding rice) 154.

Entry for October 14, 2006 - Living Years

For "J"

Oct. 14, 1935 - March 14, 1997





Living Years



by Mike and the Mechanics



Every Generation

Blames the one before

And all of their frustrations

Come beating on your door



I know that I'm a prisoner

To all my Father held so dear

I know that I'm a hostage

To all his hopes and fears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years



Crumpled bits of paper

Filled with imperfect thought

Stilted conversations

I'm afraid that's all we've got



You say you just don't see it

He says it's perfect sense

You just can't get agreement

In this present tense

We all talk a different language

Talking in defense



Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye



So we open up a quarrel

Between the present and the past

We only sacrifice the future

It's the bitterness that lasts



So don't yield to the fortunes

You sometimes see as fate

It may have a new perspective

On a different day

And if you don't give up, and don't give in

You may just be O.K.



Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye



I wasn't there that morning

When my father passed away

I didn't get to tell him

All the things I had to say



I think I caught his spirit

Later that same year

I'm sure I heard his echo

In my baby's new born tears

I just wish I could have told him in the living years



Say it loud, say it clear

You can listen as well as you hear

It's too late when we die

To admit we don't see eye to eye

Entry for October 10, 2006 - Blogging in My Sleep...

Blogging in my sleep...



Yesterday I had a dilemma. I was close to panicking. It was the middle of an ordinary Monday....and I couldn't log on...



I know, it's such a small thing, but it seems like such a big thing when you have your heart set on  enjoying a grey, rainy day curled up with your monitor and keyboard. It ruined the mood, and put me in another mood....I was ticked.



I tried, and I tried, but Yahoo wouldn't load. It wouldn't load it's front page, my e-mail, or 360. Not both my poor mind cried, ..not both 360 AND my e-mail. How could I function  today without one or the other? After much bemoaning and several choice words for Yahoo, I gave up. I could fight no more, and I had to join the real world...a world without blogs, e-mails, fwds, instant messages and replies.



I survived....barely...but I survived...



One would have thought the world was coming to an end, and not many would have understood  what I am  talking about....but I know you do. I know you would in my little box on top of my desk would undertand, console, and even gasp at the notion of a blog-less and e-mail free world.



It was after 11 at night when I tried again...I was pessimistic. I was sure I must have a virus or a trojan or my ancient relic of a computer was just bogged down with just too much of everything after almost 10 years. I considered dumping. I considered dumping files, and folders, pics , and old programs to clear up space... enough space and memory to fix my problem...but I held off.



At the darkest hour, I logged on,... my computer had finally logged me into Yahoo. I was almost giddy. I clicked and went to page after page. I clicked my e-mail. It was there, all 216 of e-mails waiting patiently for me. I skimmed and read, and skimmed and read, and saved the ones that needed replies. I rushed over to 360.



You left comments. You had blogged in my absence. I was jealous...but how could you know, so I forgave you. I hopped from blog page to blog page reading your updates. I replied on some blogs, I left comments on some, and my eyes grew heavy. Nooooo, I whined, I have more blogs to read,... but deep down I knew I would have to go soon. I trudged on, halfway thru my friend's list. I was reading or it seemed I was reading, words were becoming jumbled. I would write replies only to erase them before posting because of all the typs I spied or because even in my befuddled mind the responses made little sense.



I knew I was close to breaking when I was reading from one of my favorite bloggers about his trip, about eating pasties, and about cats. My sleep deprived mind was in fits of giggles. I wanted to post a reply that they were "the cat's meow", and ask if their pasties had tassles, but I thought better, I get punchy when I am tired. I didn't know if they would log into their page and read my reply and think.... "Huh"? Sometimes I think my humor might be a bit too warped for most. So I left without commenting. I promised myself I would be back tomorrow to post a comment, and then I wondered if I comment to much? I blogged on ....



I visited a blog page and smiled at their latest blog posting. They had made a graphic on "Alerts". I was going to post a reply and when I scrolled down ,..I saw it. They had blogged more than once today. Argh!...I can't post a reply to the latest blog when I haven't read all the others. It's like skipping ahead in a book to read the ending. I feel so guilty, like I have missed something. I mumbled under my breath I would have to come back, and so help me if they have blogged half a dozen more times before I get to their blog page again tomorrow, I might have to rap their knuckles with a frozen twinkie.



My eyes were finding it hard to focus. It was almost 12:30 in the morning. I was waiting on a page to load with some autumnal pics. I squinted hard, was that a goose? No wait, I think someone had commented on a heron....I was going down fast.



An instant message popped up on my screen ..."goodnight Vickie"....it was from my favorite Kiwi. It was either the 2nd or 3rd time he had sent me a message near or after midnight this week. I was beginning to think he was psychic knowing that I was still on-line... Till he commented for me to wipe the chocolate from my mouth, and I realized I had been busted, I had just been at his blog a moment ago and left a comment on snitching chocolates.



He was right, it was time for bed,..but it was so hard to let you all go. What if tomorrow brought the same headaches? What if I couldn't log onto Yahoo? What if I had to go another whole day without e-mail or blogging? My eyes were barely focusing. My mind was numb. I had to let go, but not without some worries.



Today I can hear the traffice go by,... hear the squirrels chattering outside my window  in the softest drizzle of rain. There is a cup by the monitor on top of a book, and I am wearing my fuzzy slipper socks. I made it on-line today... and Yahoo was there. I found my e-mail, and logged into 360.....and for this very moment..... all is right in the world.

Entry for October 05, 2006 - Choices

Choices...





Here it is late again at night and I am sitting here writing or thinking about writing a blog. It's not like I have some pressing subject on my mind that needs to be said. But I have been thinking of this blog entry for a few days now after reading some of this week's past blogs.



There have been serious blogs, and blogs of silliness,... and some would argue there are too many that fall in either category. Some bloggers want to read blogs on serious matters, and some bloggers that think  life is serious enough, and anything that brings smiles and laughter is a good thing. I like both, some are easier to read though... I don't think very many accuse me of being too serious... or taking myself too seriously.



Reading some of the blogs this week, I found a recurring theme in some of them....Well.. in a way I suppose in all of them.



The matter of choice...and the choices we make.



I think it was Spotty who wrote a blog on suicide and then it sparked a blog for Possum on decisions. Zim then posted a blog on choices and being informed on vaccinations and preventiveness of disease and well, the  harder I looked the more it seemed so connected.



Choices...



Hillbilly had a most thought provoking blog about anger and his choice to choose forgiveness.



Sue and Mahvin have posted on their blogs of wanting to improve their lifestyles and their personal battle with diets and dieting. They both have chosen to make improvements in their lives. Positive choices of which they will reap the rewards.



I have read and shared giggles on blogs of Halloween and costumes and jokes and all kinds of silly things. Given a choice I think I would choose laughter as a way  to start off every day.



Every day is a choice and about the choices we make. Some are good, some we make in the heat of emotion, and some we wish we could change. Which brings me back to the beginning...back to Spotty's and Possum's blogs... I guess it really is a 360 circle.



A few years ago I was asked to help a neighbor and good friend who had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Her family couldn't be there all the time and asked me to fill in some of the hours, so I said I would. I don't think at the time I had thought it out, I just answered automatically yes.



We all sat around the kitchen table, my friend, her large family of kids and grandkids, the hospice nurses, and myself. They explained in great detail of the hospice program and were very professional about it. Then they pushed the papers over to be signed by my friend. She held that pen in her hand twirling it for a few moments. In her face I saw all the despair, and fear, and dread she was feeling and I felt it rise up in me as well... It took everything in me to not get up and bolt from that room....and it took everything in her to sign those papers.



Some choices we have no control of, some choices are made for us, and sometimes we really don't have a choice.



In that short summer I learned about pills, and pain patches and different strengths of pain patches, and supplements, and ports, and how to hook up an electric pump to a tube in the stomach to pump the contents out before those contents came back up on their own. Between the cancer and a huge ulcer, nothing would stay down longer than 15 minutes. It was a defeating process... and feeling.



But during that time, I never saw that look on her face again...and I never felt that overwhelming feeling again. I think we both found that quiet place. That quiet place that Zimmy talked about in her last blog. That wherever you are at, you can hear the quiet...and find peace.



I use to think that people make choices in life, and for life, and that death and dying doesn't begin until a person takes that last breath...



Now I often wonder if it doesn't begin, when you learn that you have no hope.......or choice.

Entry for September 28, 2006 - Double Trouble

Double Trouble





When you were born, you were named after two of your grandpas...

When I was born, a baby monkey was born at a local zoo, and it was given the same name as mine.





You had lots of hair when you were a baby...

I didn't have any hair till I was almost two.





When you were three, I stole your cookies...

Given the chance, I would do it today.





Your eyes are hazel green...

My eyes are dark brown.





You would talk to complete strangers...

I was too quiet and shy.





You had a little yellow pet parakeet...

My cat ate your bird.





You liked math...

I liked art.





You excelled in speech and science class...

I sat in the back of the room and got detention for doodling on my desk.





Your first car was a Toyota Corolla...

My first vehicle was a Ford pick-up truck.





You graduated from high school and joined the Army...

I graduated from high school and went to college.





You traveled the world and fought in a war...

I stayed in Nebraska and sent you letters and packages.





You were always broke and borrowing money...

I was a pushover and always lent you the money.





You smoke...

I don't.





You have a tattoo...

I don't.





Your best friend is my one of neighbors...

I count him as my friend too.





In your spare time you work with wood...

In my spare time I work with paint and ink.





You try to fix all kinds of stuff for me...

My stuff never works any more after you fix it.





You like sweet pickles...

I like dill.





You drink pots of coffee all day...

I can't stand the stuff.





You married twice, had a daughter, and just this year you are a grandfather...

I never married, or had any kids, and I refuse to admit I could ever be that old.





So very different...

Yet so connected.





My twin...

And  me.





Happy Birthday Bro...

Entry for September 27, 2006 - Back from Wuk Wuk

I'm back.



After less than a week at the land of Wuk Wuk, the powers that be have set me free. Actually I think it was more  of the cost of keeping me in chocolate that was behind  the real reason for letting me go.



I personally want to thank each and everyone of you that came to my defense and valiantly tried to rescue me....



Mahvin thanks for sending in your Orc Army headed by Warlord Barghus. It's a shame that you got lost and invaded the wrong country while looking for me. It's the thought that counts...( Next time stop and ask for directions...I know this is such a guy thing).



Jim much appreciation for the offer of sending in your toy plastic green army men. And once you have gotten off the floor from playing with them, I am sure we will see you posting more in your blog.



Judy, the Star Trek action figures you brought along to help Jim with his plastic green army men was a nice addition. I tried my hardest to get one of them to beam me up some extra chocolate.  Jim though, is in the corner pouting because you are a girl and have way cooler action figures than him. Maybe you could offer to set up a play date one day with him so his feeling won't get hurt.



Mac, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles you brought, added a touch of class to my rescue party. However I am still not forgiving you for leaning over and asking Wukky if he could keep me longer. I have my eye on you.....(and it's the good one too)....



Theresa and your marching army of Post-Menopausal Woman, I know struck fear into every man between here and Wuk Wuk. There are reported cases of men offering to do dishes and taking out the trash in order not to be caught in the line of you and your army. Rumors of expansion as the momentum gains, is spreading over the blogging world. Maybe by Saturday we can storm the mall and do some serious butt-kicking...um...I mean shopping....



Gloggy....."the sweet one"....words can not express the look on my face when you arrived in your butterfly wings and speedo to save me. I am sure you were trying to take Wukky and the band of black gnomes by surprise. But either Wukky has bad eyesight or he has seen much worse things than you in your speedos. Sorry about you getting caught and being shackled to the wall of the cave. It was nice to have you hanging around though...



Super Secret Agent Angie...what can I say....you saved the day. You rescued Gloggy from the evil Wukky and set me free.



There I was, surrounded by black gnomes waiting on me hand and foot, eating endless chocolates, and watching reruns of  "The Dixie Show" on tv..... gee...thanks...really....thanks a lot... (I knew it couldn't last).



So I am back...for better or for worse...



You are stuck with me, and you have Angie to thank for that...



Please don't rush her blog all at once, ....give her a five minute head start....she is still talking into her shoe.

Entry for September 22, 2006 - The Blogging Blahs...

The blogging blahs....



Yesterday I was going to write a blog. It had been awhile since my last blog entry. I had been busy reading other people's blogs, and they seemed so much more interesting than anything I could write. I just wasn't feeling very inspired....I felt bloggish.



Maybe it was the weather. It had rained all day, the sun never peeked out. It was cold and nothing seemed to be blog worthy. It was just after midnight when a message popped up on my screen from yahoo messenger from a very wise Kiwi, that said....."get to bed"...Perhaps they could sense clear over there on the underside of the world, my blog-less-ness. So I took their advice...and went to bed.



I woke up this morning with the same predicament....a blog without a clue...or a subject.



I thought of all things fallish. The Autumnal arrival. I thought of pumpkins and recipes of pumpkins, but pumpkins just didn't hit the blog spot.



I thought of the recent blogs I had read on the migration of birds and butterflies...but nothing seemed to be migrating in Nebraska....or to Nebraska....or from Nebraska.



(Twiddling of thumbs..... Ho hum....this blogging could be work if you let it be....)



I read a blog today that told me I was deleted from their friend's list because I was dumb. The first thing that popped in my head..........What?...Who said?



I thought, and thought of what could possibly be considered offensive  to land me in the dumb category....and the more I thought of it....the more I thought........this IS dumb.



I don't think I am or was so dumb....I think it was more of the fact my blog didn't show enough cleavage....(darn those turtlenecks!)



So I deleted them too....left them to float adrift on their own in 360. It might be the smartest thing I have done today...



Yesterday I posted on someone's blog and within a couple of minutes a message was winging it's way to me from them.  The blogger had accidently deleted my comment....I had to smile...I thought that was funnier than the posting I had left. So I sent a message back to them joking...."I had been censored"...and then I thought... I hope that didn't sound dumb. Once you have been labeled you start to feel so insecure...



I read on a blog this morning about a blogging friend who had been under the weather. He was busy doing stuff and he claims he forgot to eat. I knew it would happen one day to someone. They would be so immersed in this blogging stuff, they would start wasting away for fear of leaving their computer screen. I hope he gets to feeling better...and I hope he remembers to stuff snacks in his computer desk for the next time he is feeling peckish and is afraid to leave his blog.



Just when I was at my blogging end. I read a message someone sent to me.....I had been kidnapped! Wooohoo! The best blogging news I have had all day.



I won't have to think...I won't have to be witty...I really can be dumb......I can stay locked up in Wukky's blog for days...



I got to wondering then....who would pay the blogging ransom?... Or would the kidnapper pay the other bloggers to take me back? It's out of my hands....out of my control...



In any case, I am "vacationing" during my kidnapping at the land of WukWuk....it's just what I needed....A small respite from the pressure of  all this blogging....



Feel free to drop by for a visit while I am at Wukky's....and bring me candy cigarettes......and a file baked in the chocolate cake.



I am not really planning on breaking out anytime soon....the file is for my nails....all this blog typing really does a number on them....

Entry for September 16, 2006 - Super Gloggy Award

Wukky started it.....



As most of you know, Gloggy and Wukky have a love/hate gnome relationship. They are both cut from the same fabric, they are both nuts... But such loveable nuts.



Today I was reading in Wukky's last blog entry. He had taken a pic of Gloggy from his blog, and had done his magical graphic touch with it.



(I am still giggling over his "Statue of Puberty" Gloggy creation.)



 He then encouraged each of us to snag that same pic from Gloggys blog and to fashion our own graphic rendition.



So....that said....I took him up on the challenge, and thus explains today's blog posting....





"The Gloggy" ......blog award trophy....



....the blogging award fashioned for this week's past blogging entries....



.....and the nominees are......





BEST COMEDY IN A BLOG ENTRY......"Easy does it Rider" ...by Misty



The tale of a scootin' grandma and the granddaughter that teaches her a lesson. A fun filled adventure that keeps you on the edge of your blogging seat....and more importantly....keeps grandma away from the curb. A blog for all ages! Recommended by the Canadian Department of Motor Vehicles...



BEST DRAMA IN A BLOG ENTRY......."Of Blog and Peace"....by Mahvin



The thought provoking story of a tortured blogging carpenter, turned tapestry weaver. Share his journey as he tries to keep from poking his eye out. Received a four out of five snickerdoodle rating by the Birdfeeders Building Union. A must see! Rated BG for some blogging content....



BEST MUSICAL IN A BLOG ENTRY......"The Sound of Something" ....by Jim



Join the lederhosen clad Jim, the last remaining member of the Von Clap family, as he hums and prances his way thru his blog. Sure to keep your toes tapping as you sing along with him in his grand finale, where he climbs the biggest mushroom and yodels to his goats. See and experience "The Sound of Something" today!.....soundtrack yet unavailable....(thank goodness)....



BEST DOCUMENTARY IN A BLOG ENTRY....."Guess What's Cooking for Dinner"....by JD



A sobering look in today's culinary world. Join JD as he tries to fuse together his love of cooking and the prejudice of roadkill cuisine. Produced, directed, and edited by JD. Endorsed by the Arkansas Board of Tourism. Learn how you can have your roadkill and eat it too!....



BEST INDEPENDENT BLOG ENTRY......"Three Taters and a Baby"....by MacIII



The touching story of a man, an abandoned gnome baby, and the potatoes that still haunt him. Learn how love conkers all, except for half baked potatoes. This blog not recommended for vegetarians. Three thumbs up for "Three Taters and a Baby"....



BEST ANIMATION OR CARTOON BLOG ENTRY....."Last Blog Standing"....by Wukky



The loveable tale of gnomes, elephants, and wombats. Join in the fun and find yourself laughing thru the whole blog. A classic tale of good versus evil. Rated best in cinematography and editing by the Australian Graphics Association. Take the whole family to see "Last Blog Standing" today!...



BEST FOREIGN BLOG ENTRY......"das Blog"....by Possum



Join the journey of a possum as she blogs her way across the world. Watch the drama unfold as she looses herself along the way and then finds her way back home to her blogging page. See how she grows and develops into a seasoned blogger. You will laugh, you will cry, you will stand up and cheer for "das Blog"....

Entry for September 15, 2006 - So Long Fuddy....

So long Fudwocket....



It's been fun.



With the mystery of the baby gnome solved in Gloggy's blog today, the Gnome Federation arrived to take you back home.



Bloggers gathered for one last good-bye, with lots of tears,laughter, oreo cookies, and new diapers for the gnome baby affectionately nicknamed..."Fuddy".



We will miss ya........



.......ya little pooper....

Entry for September 15, 2006

and the world waits....

Entry for September 12, 2006 - Dear Diary

Dear Diary.....



No one has yet stepped forward to claim the baby gnome. Speculation is rampant. Careful observation in the last couple of days has provided a few clues.....



Suspects:



Judy.....She offered to let the baby gnome stay at her blog for awhile yesterday. Upon returning I found her tied up in the corner with a head ache and the baby gnome riding her pug.



Cyn.....Spoiling baby gnome with lots of garage sale toys....Could it be possible guilt complex on gnome abandonment?



Dixie....Wants to be baby gnomes Godmother, but refuses to change any dirty diapers....Perhaps wants to remain close to baby gnome for maternal reasons?....or has a weak stomach on the diaper issue.



Angie...Baby gnome whines for "Cookie" all the time....quite possibly the most damning evidence so far in hunt for real gnome parent....



Misty....While in a knitting frenzy making booties for gnome baby, pokes self in eye.....Possible guilty conscience...or just accident prone?



Possum... Took baby gnome for check-up after he bumped his head. Was given a stern lecture on teaching gnome to skateboard before learning to crawl. Left with gnome covered in layers of gauze, much like a giant marshmallow.....Over protectiveness of a possum mother....or just sympathy for a gnome left in my care?



Vero....Posting lots of pics of grandbaby....Transferance of gnome baby love?



Theresa...Still suspiciously absent....left in a hurry on the back of a motorcycle.



Zim.....Refuses to let baby gnome set foot in her blog. Would rather play with cabbage patch dolls. Claims computer is broken but still mysteriously posts comments.



Additional Notes:



Baby gnome still screams uncontrollably at Jim's blog.....possible goat trauma......or Jim trauma?



Jd is a bad influence on baby gnome. Keeps asking baby gnome to pull finger. Baby gnome now passes gas a lot while giggling.



Gnome will only eat oreos now thanks to Mac....



Gloggy still in "fragile" mental state...



Wukky....could pose international incident if gnome heritage is somehow traced to him.



Mahvin crafted baby crib for baby gnome.......crib looks suspiciously like a giant bird feeder.



Skipper rants over baby gnome in his blog, but was seen bouncing gnome on his knee while wearing rubber pants....



Hillybilly, Spotty, and Cayce keeping quiet, and bolting at the mention of the word "baby"....



It is my only hope that by FRIDAY...someone will own up to the baby gnome....they will step forward in their BLOG and claim the gnome...their conscious will continually eat away at them... till they fess up.

Till then the blogging world can only sit back and wonder.............WHO?

Entry for September 11, 2006

A Nation's Strength



What makes a nation's pillars high

And it's foundations strong?

What makes it mighty to defy

The foes that round it throng?



It is not gold. It's kingdoms grand

Go down in battle shock.

It's shafts are laid on sinking sand,

Not on abiding rock.



Is it the sword? Ask the red dust

Of empires passed away,

The blood has turned their stones to rust,

Their glory to decay.



And is it pride? Ah, that bright crown

Has seemed to nations sweet;

But God has struck it's luster down

In ashes at his feet.



Not gold but only men can make

A people great and strong;

Men who for truth and honor's sake

Stand fast and suffer long.



Brave men who work while others sleep,

Who dare while others fly...

They build a nation's pillars deep

And lift them to the sky.



...Ralph Waldo Emerson