Christmas Memories - Good and Bad

As Christmas creeps up on us, I've been remembering some of my past Christmas'. Some were fantastic, some, not so much.

I remember when I was a little girl, my brother and sister and I would wake up in the middle of the night and sneak in to see what Santa had left for us. One year, (and I'm not sure this was all the same year, Pam, help me out here) there was a transistor radio for Pam, and a small reel to reel tape recorder for our brother (who chooses not to be named here) and a little table and 2 chairs for me. We sat up on our bed conducting "Man on the Street" interviews with each other, before putting everything back and trying really hard to go  back to sleep.

One year my sister teased me about her gift to me...it was big and flowered. I couldn't imagine what it could be. It turned out to be a giant flowered stuffed pig. I loved him and I named him Ivanhoe. This is not a picture of my Ivanhoe, he was larger and had better flowers, but it was as close as I could find.

Middle 70's. I was grown and working at a drug store. I think I had about $12 to spend on Christmas gifts for my family. I bought tiny little sample bottles of cologne for the men and something similar for the women. I was embarrassed but nobody made me feel bad about it.

Fast forward to early 80's. I had been to visit my dad and fell in love with my step-mothers new food processor. They had just come out. All the rage, ya know. I wanted one so bad. Every hint possible was dropped to husband. When Christmas morning came, there was the box...just the right size...just the right weight...OH BOY, I just knew it was my food processor. I ripped into the wrapping and there it was...A Betty Gee Deep Fryer....*+*+*siiiiigh*+*+*

1983. Joe was 3. The oil field was booming. Times were good. I had made Joe a pair of blue checked flannel pj's and a blue fleece robe, and he looked adorable. I've never been very good at picking gifts, but I did good that year, in quantity anyway. This looks very much like the pattern I used.

1985. Gary was 6 months old. We had a tree with an angel on top, dressed in a white dress. He was lying under the tree, fascinated by the twinkling lights. He reached his chubby  little hand up and pulled the tree down on top of himself, busting his lip and bleeding on the angel's skirt. I never had the heart to replace her. She sat on top of our tree, stained skirt and all, until the last Christmass we spent together in 2001.

1995. This one is hard to write. Probably the worst Christmas we ever had, except for '94 when Joe ran away from home on Christmas Day, went with a buddy to Killeen and we didn't see him for a week.

Ok...back to 95. Gary was 10 years old. Joe was 15 and dating a girl who was old enough to drive. We had a beautiful dog named Cujo, whom we'd raised from a baby. He was 5 years old. Over the past few months, Cujo had not been acting right. He was breaking through the living room window and running away. He bit the mail lady. He held a neighbor lady hostage in her house. It was to the point that we were having to tether him either to a tree, or to the leg of our bed when we went out.

Christmas night. It was about 10pm. I had just gone to bed because I had to work the next day. The football game was still on TV. Husband had come into the room to sit with me for a few minutes before I went to sleep. Joe was out on a date. Gary was alone in the living room with Cujo. He was sitting on a skateboard, rolling back and forth a little bit. Cujo was several feet away, sleeping stretched out in front of the door. All was quiet and peaceful. Then the quiet was broken by a blood curdling scream from the living room...and then another....Jim (husband) and I jumped up and ran in, and found Gary, our baby, standing with his arm torn open, bleeding, terrified. Cujo had awakened suddenly and attacked the boy, grabbing his arm and tearing a deep gash in it. After he turned him loose, he came at him and bit him again. The sound of my baby in mortal terror like that is something I don't wish any mother to ever hear.

We wrapped him up and jumped in the car and sped to the hospital. Every time the car bounced, Gary would cry. My heart was breaking. All I could do was hold him in my arms and pray we'd get there soon. We reached Joe and warned him not to untie the dog and let him in the house, as he normally would.

There were all kinds of questions to answer at the hospital. Any time there is a dog bite, the police are called. We immediately agreed to have the dog put down. No dog was worth the risk he had become to our family. It took a mattress stitch down deep in the muscle and 12 more stitches on top to repair the physical damage. For a long time, and maybe to this day, I don't know, Gary was afraid of large dogs. And he said he could tell when the weather was going to change. I'm thankful it wasn't his  handsome face, and it wasn't his throat.

Ok...let's end this on a good one. 2003, my first Christmas with Dave. We had such fun. We drove around looking at Christmas lights. We bought toys for the Toys for Tots. We shipped presents home. We were spending the first of many Christmases together. The only hard part about that year was when the radio would play I'll Be Home for Christmas...that made me cry.

This year is a good one. Money is tight, like it is for everyone. But we have each other and we have friends, and we have family and we're happy with that.

Merry Christmas, Everybody. And a Happy New Year.

Christmas Recipes

While I think about my Christmas entry, I'll share a couple of recipes with you. The bread recipes bake up really nice in those little pans and make nice gifts. The soup is just super easy and super yummy.
(I can't seem to get my background color right....sorry)

CARROT - PINEAPPLE BREAD

3 c. all-purpose flour 1 tsp. baking soda 1 tsp. salt 1 tsp. ground ginger 1/2 tsp. baking powder 3 eggs 1 c. vegetable oil 1 1/2 c. sugar 2 c. shredded carrots 1 can (8 oz.) crushed pineapple, drained 1 c. chopped pecans Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour 4 (6 x 3 x 2 inch) metal or foil loaf pans.In a large bowl, mix flour, baking soda, salt, ginger and baking powder; set aside. In a large mixer bowl at medium speed, beat eggs and oil until well blended. Add sugar and continue beating until mixture is thick, about 2 minutes. At low speed, beat in carrots and pineapple. By hand, stir in flour mixture just until flour is moistened. Stir in nuts. Pour batter into pans. Bake for 50 minutes or until a wooden pick inserted in center comes out clean. Cool in pans on wire racks for 10 minutes. Remove from pans and cool completely. Wrap and store overnight to soften crust before serving. Breads can be wrapped in foil and stored in the freezer up to 3 months. Serve at room temperature. Makes 4 small loaves.

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TRIPLE CHOCOLATE QUICK BREAD

Ingredients

• 1-1/2 cups miniature semisweet chocolate chips, divided
• 1/2 cup butter, softened
• 2/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 2 eggs
• 1-1/2 cups unsweetened applesauce
• 2 teaspoons Spice Islands® pure vanilla extract
• 2-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 teaspoon baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 
  GLAZE:
• 1/2 cup miniature semisweet chocolate chips
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 2 to 3 tablespoons half-and-half cream
• 1/2 cup confectioners' sugar
• 1/4 teaspoon Spice Islands® pure vanilla extract
• Pinch salt

Directions

• Ina microwave-safe bowl, melt 1 cup chocolate chips; set aside to cool. In a large bowl, cream butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Add eggs and cooled chocolate; mix well. Add applesauce and vanilla; set aside. Combine the flour, baking powder, baking soda and salt; add to creamed mixture and mix well. Stir in the remaining chocolate chips.
• Spoon into four greased 5-3/4-in. x 3-in. x 2-in. loaf pans. Bake at 350° for 35-40 minutes or until a toothpick inserted near the center comes out clean. Cool for 10 minutes before removing to wire racks.
• For glaze, melt chocolate chips and butter in a small heavy saucepan; stir in cream. Remove from the heat; stir in confectioners' sugar, vanilla and salt. Drizzle over warm breads. Cool completely. Yield: 4 mini-loaves.
• 
  
• 
  

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CHICKEN NOODLE SOUP

Ingredients

• 4 cups chopped, cooked chicken meat
• 1 cup chopped celery
• 1/4 cup chopped carrots
• 1/4 cup chopped onion
• 1/4 cup butter
• 8 ounces egg noodles
• 12 cups water
• 9 cubes chicken bouillon
• 1/2 teaspoon dried marjoram
• 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
• 1 bay leaf
• 1 tablespoon dried parsley

Directions

1. In a large stock pot, saute celery and onion in butter or margarine.
2. Add chicken, carrots, water, bouillon cubes, marjoram, black pepper, bay leaf, and parsley. Simmer for 30 minutes.
3. Add noodles, and simmer for 10 more minutes.

Daddy's Hands

Daddy's Hands ...one of my all time favorite songs.

Pam, go get your hanky, I'm gonna talk about Daddy now....I"ll wait....
*+*+ looks at ceiling *+*+*
*+*+ scuffs toe on floor *+*+
*+*+ checks watch *+*+

Okay, you back? Here goes:

Daddy could do anything. Period. If something was beyond repair, he could build a new one. He could get you the best deal on anything. He could rebuild a car from the tires up. He could mend a broken heart.

And he had a sense of humor. He used to tell us he was so unloved, he was going to change his name to Miss Treated. Or Percy Cuted. He'd put his glasses down low on his nose and make sad eyes. I loved to hear him laugh.

One time, Daddy decided we girls needed a good mirror on the wall in our bedroom. So he was going to hang one.

He measured so he would get the hangers right on the studs to hold it up. Daddy never did anything halfway..he did it right the first time. He hammered in one hanger...right into the stud. Then he hammered in the other one. Uh oh....no stud. What? The measurement was perfect, the stud should be right there. He dropped a little lower and found the stud. Right where it was supposed to be. So he went back up to the chosen height and tried again. No stud. What was going on here? How could the stud be there at a lower level, but not up where he was hammering.


So he went into the bathroom, on the other side of the wall where the mirror was to hang. Measured. Hammered. Yep the stud was there. Right where it should be. Try again. Bedroom, no stud. Bathroom, stud.

Finally, frustration got the best of him, and he took his hammer to the bathroom wall. He knocked a giant hole into it. He was determined to find out why that stud wasn't where it was supposed to be.

Turns out there was a knothole in the stud. It caused the stud to be solid on the bathroom side, and 'holey' on the bedroom side.

Daddy swore he wanted to update the bathroom walls anyway. And we got our mirror, just a little bit higher than he originally planned.
                        *****************************************************
There was one other time when Daddy's hammer went to flying. Mother wanted a Venthood over her stove so Daddy got her one and was hanging it. Simple job. Hang it. Plug it in.

Oops. Something wasn't right. It was plugged in, but nothing was working. So he took it down, checked the wiring. Everything seemed fine. Hang it again. Plug it in.

DAMN! still not working. Memories of the mirror must have been going through his mind. Finally, frustration got the  best of him and he pulled the vent down from the wall and sent it sailing out the back door and down the driveway.

Unfortunately when he pulled it down, he also pulled down a large chunk of the kitchen wall. Mother, at this point, is in the corner of the kitchen wondering just what could happen next. Well.....not wanting to have the evidence of his failure staring him in the face, he went to the dining room and got one of  the brass plates off the wall, and drove a nail over the hole, and hung that plate. Never mind that it was about three feet off center.

That's when Mother lost all composure. She collapsed into gales of laughter. She called her friend, Betty, and was laughing so hard, that Betty thought she was crying and came flying into the house, breaking every speed limit between her house and ours. When she saw the offset plate, and Mother sitting on the floor laughing, and the vent in the driveway, it all came together.

Daddy swore he wanted to update the kitchen walls anyway. And Mother got her Venthood, after Daddy found the "ON" switch inside it.
                             ****************************************************
Daddy was especially good at dealing with the hearts of little girls. And big girls too.

One time, when I was in the second grade, I saw an advertisement that the Korn King Giant was going to be making an appearance at our local grocery store. A GIANT, a real GIANT! This, I had to see! But, alas, the time of his appearance to the commoners coincided with school. What to do, what to do? Fake sick and somehow get Mother to take me to the store with her, just in time to see 8 foot royalty? Hmmm...not likely that she would take me out if I was sick. So I did the next best thing. I told Daddy what I wanted. I wanted to see a real giant. So he did what any daddy would do....he made my heart's desire come true. He took me out of school, and drove me to the store just in time to see the giant. And boy! Was I disappointed! It was just a skinny man, just a little taller than Daddy, in a cheesy crown.

I think I learned a lesson from this. Things aren't always what they are hyped up to be. Maybe that was Daddy's plan in the first place.
                                ***************************************************
Fast forward 15 years. My husband and I had separated for the first of many times. I was devastated. I didn't think my heart would ever mend. So Daddy did what any daddy would do. He took me dancing. And on the dance floor, he assured me that I didn't have to cry any more, and life would go on, and things would be better. All while Freddy Fender sang "I'll Be There Before The Next Teardrop Falls."

                                **************************************************
We lost Daddy on July 11, 2000. His hair was no longer red, and his arms were no longer strong. When he first went into the hospice, I remember him sitting cross-legged in bed, visiting with us all as we stood around. I wondered if he knew then that he had gone there to die. He was in a coma for the last 10 days or so. But I got a miracle. After he had been unconcious for a few days, I got a phone call. It was him. He just said a few words, just that he loved me. And he called me his baby girl, one last time.
He never spoke again, not to me, anyway.
                               *************************************************
It's not easy to lose your hero. But I can imagine him up in Heaven, blue hammer in hand, looking for a wall in his mansion that needs updating.

I love you Daddy.

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered

Ok, so I'm not really bothered, it was my mother who was (rumored to be) bewitched, but I am still a bit bewildered by what happened. You might wind up that way too.

We had a neighbor once (Pam, I'm sure you remember the Rawls' down the street 4 doors) who was convinced that my mother was a witch. Not a caldron-stirring, spell-casting witch..

......more like a Samantha Stephens type witch.











Here's why:

We had another neighbor, on the other side next door on the corner, who lost her wedding ring one weekend. We happened to be away that weekend. When we returned, the lady of the house (I don't recall their names now, all I remember is they lived there before my best friend Lesley moved in when we were 5, and they had a boy whom we convinced to taste doggy doo one time.) told mother that she had lost her ring in the back yard and despite looking everywhere she had been, she could not find her ring.

Now this yard had 3 narrow sidewalks leading from the back door. One went to a covered patio. One went to the side door of the garage, and the last went to the gate leading to the driveway.

Mother told her to look halfway between the garage sidewalks and she would find her ring. The lady protested that she had already had all the kids down on their knees scouring the yard inch by inch. Mother finally convinced her to look again, and sure enough, the ring was exactly where Mother said it would be.

When word got around about this, the neighbor down the street, Mrs. Rawls, was convinced that Mother was psychic at best, and  most probably the neighborhood expert on bat wings at worst. So much so, that when Mrs Rawls would take her walk in the afternoon, she would cross the street when she reached our house, walk ONE house, then cross back to finish her trek around the block.

What REALLY happened was this:

Mother knew that the lady and her husband had been arguing over the past few days. She also knew that the lady was a bit of a drama queen, and Mother could imagine her standing at the back door, throwing her rings in the midst of a hissy fit. The rest was just simple mathematics. Mother, being the intelligent woman that she was, figured the trajectory of the toss and VOILA!...there was the ring.
                    ******************************************************
This next story about Mother's "powers" is a little harder to explain. It's the one that's always left me bewildered.

Daddy was a long distance truck driver for a lot of the years that we kids were growing up. It was nothing for him to be gone for days at a time.First he drove an auto transport, but later on he drove chemicals in an 18 wheel tanker truck. Some were pretty nasty, like carbolic acid. And this was  back in the days before HazMat suits and special routes.

One night, when Daddy was on a trip, Mother awoke with a start in the middle of the night. She heard him call her name. Assuming he couldn't find his key, she went to the front door to let him in. He wasn't there. So she went to the back door. Never mind that the back door was too far away for her to hear him call out. By this time she was awake enough to look in the driveway. No car. He wasn't home, and wasn't due home until the next day.

 When Daddy arrived home the next evening, Mother asked him, "What was going on this morning about 1 o'clock?"
She said Daddy turned white as a sheet and asked, "How did you know?"
She told him she heard him calling her name, but he wasn't there.

It seems that at the exact time that Mother heard him call out to her, he had been driving on a mountain road...narrow...steep drop-off....no barriers. Something with his truck didn't feel right. So he pulled over when it was wide enough, and walked back to look at the spot. That's when he saw the tracks of his wheels. 2 on the inside...1 on the outside. The other wheel had been hanging off into thin air.

(Insert Twilight Zone music here)

My question is this....did she tell me this story because it really happened, or did she make it up (she was a gifted writer) so that I would believe that Mother was know-all-see-all and therefore I could not get away with any teenage crap, so don't even try.

What do you think?

Happy Birthday....Part Deux

I just THOUGHT I was through talking about my birthday.

On Monday, Dave and I host a bingo game for the residents here at Limpdik Park. We usually have about 10-12 players.

Today, Dave had a doctor appointment this morning, so we had to rush home to get the game set up in time to play.

To my surprise, our players had planned a surprise party for me!

We had pizza, and cake, and cards with $$ in them and gifts and I was totally surprised!

Happy Birthday

Today is my birthday. I'm 56 years old.

I always felt just a little bit cheated, having a December birthday. Seems like it kinda got lost somewhere in the Thanksgiving clean up and the Christmas preparation.

There are very few of my birthdays that are memorable for me.

Once when I was still in elementary school...must have been 6th grade...I invited the kids in my class to my birthday party. Mother let me buy a pink satiny quilted "hostess gown". I felt so pretty and grown up. No one came. I was so sad. My foster brother, John, went and bought me an "Operation" game and sat and played it with me.

I don't recall ever trying to have another party after that.

Then it was 2007, 2 months after Dave and I moved into Limpdik Park. I had been back at work from my bout with pneumonia for just a few days. He called me after I got off work and told me to meet him in the clubhouse when I got home. I usually went there for the mail after work anyway. When I walked into the clubhouse, there was Dave and a dozen of our new neighbors. He had gotten a ride to the grocery store with a neighbor and made goulash and salad and garlic bread and birthday cake. The neighbors brought balloons and gifts and cards and wine. It was incredible to me, that people I barely knew would turn out like this. For me. It was the first and only surprise party I've ever had and I will never ever forget it.

This year? This year, it's a little harder to get around. And the budget is a little tighter. But it was still a good day for me. I spent it with my Dave. He put together the present I asked for. (A Craftsman mechanic's stool for my kitchen). We had a simple dinner and an hour long Skype call from Jacob, our older grandson, which was priceless. I heard from my younger son Gary, and from my sister Pam, and there were about 50 good wishes on Facebook.

I'm not where I thought I would be by this time in my life, but I'm satisfied with where I wound up. I have two sons that I'm immensely proud of, a man who loves me unconditionally, and friends I can count on to cheer me. And the best big sister anyone could ask for. I am a  happy woman, and I had a happy birthday. :-)

A Few Family Fashion Faux Pas

My sister Pam and I were taking a little stroll down memory lane, on our high school alumni Facebook page, when the discussion turned to some of the fashion we used to wear....And that set me to thinking. Some of the things we used to be seen in public in.....well, now I just have to shake my head and wonder WHAT WERE WE THINKING?!?!?!

Early 70's
Hip hugger bell bottomed jeans.

The best place to buy these was at the Army Navy surplus store. They hugged so low that the zipper was only about an inch long. Maybe two. You didn't DARE bend over lest your cheeks show and that just wasn't done back then.
.They looked something like this, but were usually a little lower.

So we wore body shirts. These were shirts and tops that came all the way down to the crotch and then snapped, thus keeping them permanently tucked in.Here is a good example of the snap crotch body shirt that we wore with the jeans.

Now how did we finish off this ensemble, you ask? With platform shoes of course! Usually a two inch platform sole and a four inch heel. You risked a broken ankle every time you left the house.I actually had a pair that looked very much like these:

These were quite popular too:

Good grief it's a wonder more of us didn't break our necks.

Hot pants.....remember those?

Oh yes, dear readers...that little number you see here was considered quite sexy. Notice the white knee boots and the matching white shoulder strap purse. Also quite the rage was the sweater worn over the button down shirt.
I remember I had a hot pants outfit that was just to die for! It was a lavender hot pants-jumpsuit with a sleeveless vest over it.Silver studs on the vest. I wore it with white leather boots that laced up the sides.
Tres chic!!

Now those of us who didn't go the sexy mama route may have chosen the Earth Mother look.
A maxi dress down to the floor
Floppy hat
Earth shoes

The ruffle at the bottom was a definite plus.
The floppy hat could be felt like this one:

Or open and lacy for that summer look, like this:

I actually had a felt hat like the top one. I wore it with black pants that had huge yellow flowers on them, and a black almost see through blouse...ruffled at the neck and sleeve. I rocked that hat.

To complete the Earth Mother look there was the Earth shoe.

Notice that the heel is lower than the toe. That was intentional. It was supposed to make you walk better. It didn't.

There were some outfits that we probably should just try to forget. Like the summer halter dresses I wore that were sooo short they had matching panties underneath. Or the yellow outfit my sister had...open lattice work all the way down the side of the leg and blouse. (Although she was probably the only woman on Earth who could wear those pants and still look like a lady.)

Over the years I have gone from hot pants to hot flashes.....from hip huggers to hip replacements....from floppy hats to floppy .......well never mind.

Time to go....Has anybody seen my fannypack?

Life is short...

  I've been thinking, lately. Yeah I know...scary thought. But seriously, I've been thinking about things I should have done when I was younger that I can't do now. Regrets, I guess.

I wish I had gone roller skating more. Especially when the boys were little. I loved to roller skate. I should have stayed sometimes, when I dropped them off at the rink, and enjoyed myself.

I wish I had taken the boys to the park more. Just because I didn't like the outdoors, doesn't mean I should have deprived them. I'm glad their father took them camping and showed them how to 'rough it'. My idea of roughing it was no room service.

I wish I had made sure the boys had a better wardrobe when they were in school. Sure, money was tight, but we could have found a way to do better. I hope they didn't suffer for it too much.

I wish I hadn't snapped at my husband and my brother at my sister's wedding when they tried to tell me there was a bug on my hat, just before a picture was snapped. They had been cutting up all day, and I thought they were just annoying me again. They weren't.

I wish I had gone bowling more. Barbara and I used to go bowling and it was so much fun. I just quit having fun when I grew up.

I wish I hadn't been so 'understanding' every time my ex had an 'indiscretion'. Maybe if I'd thrown a hissy fit , he wouldn't have thought he could get away with it so often.

I wish I had taken better care of my body. A lot of my problems are things that could have been dealt with medically if I'd seen the doctor and dentist like I should have. (Back to the money was tight issue)

There were times in my life when I was mad at my sister and didn't speak to her for a long time. Over things that really don't seem so important now. Some I don't even remember. I wish I hadn't lost those years.

I wish I had finished high school with my class, and gone to college to study journalism. Maybe I wouldn't be just a hack blog writer now, instead of having a newspaper or magazine column like I wanted.

I wish I had learned how to choose better gifts for young sons. (I apologize for the year y'all got Bed-In-A-Bags for Christmas when you were kids. That must have sucked.)

I wish I hadn't abandoned my friends for my husband. Considering we had no mutual friends, I should have kept them close to me. Thank God they are back in my life now.

Now that I've gotten older, I'm doing more things that make ME smile.

 I wear hats outdoors. I tell somebody when they are being rude or unreasonable. I've learned to say 'no' when I just can't do what I'm asked to do.

Most of you  know the striking resemblance between my Dave and Santa Claus. This is the time of year when he starts to wear his Santa hat when we go out.
The other day, we were out on our power chairs when it began to rain. So we popped into the party store. BAD place for us to be....just too much fun stuff to play with.
Anyway, since he was wearing his Santa hat, it seemed only appropriate that I should be his Rudolph, so I bought antlers and a flashing red nose. And yes, I wore them on the way home. I always ride in front of him, since my chair is slower, so we looked like Rudolph leading the sleigh. I would even point the way for him at intersections. Cars were honking and people were waving.
It was FUN. And we'll do it again.

I think this is my point, dear readers. Please, no matter what else you have going on in your life, don't wait til you're old to have fun.

We're considering some reins with jingle bells on them..Too much???

The Wheels on the Bus....

go round and round...all through the town. And boy, am I glad they do!

Did you ever wonder, how in the world, in this day and age, does a couple survive without a vehicle. Yeah, I wondered that too, until a year ago, when Dave and I decided to bite the bullet and get rid of our car.

When I became disabled in May of 2010, and we decided I needed to apply for disability, we also had to find a way to cut some expenses so we could live on Dave's disability until mine comes through. The biggest expense we had was the car. Could we make do without it? Luckily we live in a state and a city where mass transit is pretty normal.

Since I had no insurance, I had no way of getting the powerchair that I needed to get around. (Walking any distance is impossible for me....long story...). There was a man at the church that sponsors our Bible study whose wife had passed away, and he donated this to me.

What a blessing that was. Now I can zip around the apartment complex, and I can go up to 3 miles in my neighborhood. Soooo....I can go to the grocery store, the drug store, and the Plaza where all the fun stuff is...shopping and movies and restaurants.

Dave gets around on this one, and he can go 15 miles. He has the super-whammy jazzed up model.

So ok...shopping and entertainment is covered. For other things, that go farther away from home, we rely on the Senior and Disabled bus from Riverside Transit Authority. They have a chair lift and will take us anywhere in the city for $2 each way. The only downside is we have to schedule our bus 2 days in advance of need. But that takes us to the mall or the doctor's office or anywhere else in the city that is too far to travel to by powerchair.

It's been a year since we gave up our car. There have been some compromises we've had to make, and we've had to give up some of our independence and some spontenaety, We can no longer travel like we used to, but since it's not safe for either of us to drive anymore, that's ok. If we want to go bad enough, there's always Amtrak.

Plus we save the $375 a month lease payment, $120 a month insurance, $400+ per year registration, $30 per month AAA, and the $4.00 a gallon gasoline. Not to mention anything like oil changes, tires and cute little cat stickers for the backend.

Yep, it can  be done. And not only do we save money, we're a little bit 'green'.

OOPS!!..I did it again!!!

I know I said I'd never do it again, but I did...I GOT INKED AGAIN!!
If you remember my first soiree into the world of tattooing (see OH MY GARSH WE GOT INKED 8/16/11) it was pretty painful and I really didn't think I'd do anymore. But....it's kinda like childbirth...by the time you're ready for another one, you forget how much the first one hurt.
Besides...my friend had the cutest little bracelet on her that said
<3 BABY GIRL <3 in the prettiest script. I'd been looking for some way to have my grandson's names on me, and that was it...a bracelet with Jacob's and Adam's initials and the little hearts.
So off we went today to Twilight Fantasy to get my bracelet.We'd gone last week and gotten a quote and went over what I wanted with Craig, my artist. He's a very nice guy and made me feel very welcome and comfortable,

That first little sting reminded me why I waited 55 years to do this. YOW!!!

But it didn't last very long.

Before I knew it, Craig was done and I had my cute little bracelet for my boys.

And all it took was one Aleve, two sonsabitches and one Holy Shit!!

The "Change"

Remember when All In The Family was on? During one season, Edith was going through 'the change of life' and Archie wanted no part of it. He finally looked at her and told her..."Ok...now CHANGE already!"....Oh if it were that easy.

I am now on a first name basis with the 7 Dwarfs of Menopause:

There should be 9. They left out Leaky and Weepy.

The thing is...I shouldn't even be discussing this...much less living it. Due to my PCOS (See....."Let's Call This My PSA" from June 16, 2011), when I got fixed in 1995, I got totally fixed. None of the plumbing left at all. Definitely no troublemaking ovaries to cause this bunch to come try to run my life now. My friend Donna said I've taken being 'green' to new levels with my free-ranging hormones.

In case you haven't had the 'pleasure' of their company yet, allow me to introduce you.

Itchy. I have found myself scratching places I didn't even know I had. You'd think I had poison ivy. Medicated powder doesn't help. Lotion doesn't help. Vagisil just laughs at the itch. The only thing that helps is an antihistamine pill. And y'all KNOW how I hate to take pills. I'm beginning to understand why dogs scoot on the carpet.

Sweaty used to show up just when I'd done something worth sweating over, like housework or sex. Now all I have to do is think about exerting myself and you'd think I'd run a marathon.

Bloaty. I'm not really sure when Bloaty shows up. It's hard to tell anymore, since my waistline took a hike about 10 years ago.

Sleepy. Always. I could stay in bed around the clock if I didn't have to get up and feed the cats. I can't seem to get enough sleep lately. It's been 2 years since I was able to watch a movie from beginning to end. I sit down on the couch, put my feet up, and before the opening credits are done, I'm out like a light. For hours.

Leaky is the one who really likes to make trouble. God forbid I sneeze or cough unprepared anymore. I thought once I got 'fixed', I'd never have to ride the cotton pony again. Boy was I wrong...Still riding, just not a pony anymore. More like an old nag.

Weepy. Gosh, what a drama queen she is! She cries over everything. She cries watching kittens play. She cries over Extreme Home Makeover. She cries over the final rose and she cries for all the American Idol contestants. She is getting annoying.

Bitchy. This is the one who scares me the most. I find myself saying things to people that I never would have said before she came to live with me. Things that a nice Southern girl just wouldn't dream of saying. Sometimes I don't even like me. If I'm not supposed to be 'changing' then who am I going to blame HER on??

Poor Dave. Pray for him.