I always wanted to be the kind of grandmother who wore an apron over her ample tummy, baked the best cookies, and reserved Saturday nights for the grandkids to sleep over. The only part that came true was the tummy. Siiiiigh.
My kids and grandbabies live so far away that I rarely get to see them. But I am grateful for phone calls and pictures and cards and letters. And God bless Skype.
I didn't have a grandmother who set a good example for what a grandmother should be like.
My mother's mother lived in another state, and I can only remember seeing her once when I was tiny. Then her husband killed her. And that was that.
My father's mother....oh my Lord, she was a piece of work. I don't know if my siblings and my cousins would remember her the same way I do...but if they don't they can get their own blogs.
Sometimes the best place to start a story is at the end, so I'll start there.......Mama C's funeral. In the South, when there's a service at the funeral home, there is a long curtain for the family to sit behind...runs along the side of the chapel....gives the family a little privacy to conduct their sobbing and wailing over their dearly departed loved one. That's where we sat...all the family. I was on the row with my sister and brother and a couple of cousins, safely concealed by the long gauzy curtain, while the preacher talked about what a fine loving woman Mrs. C was.
Wait a minute....who was he talking about???....surely we're in the wrong place....somebody better take a peek around the curtain and make sure we're in the right service...yep, we are....Cousin D. looked....My only hope was that my sister wouldn't catch my eye, cause I knew I would lose it if she did, and this was NOT the place for gales of laughter. I bit the inside of my cheek bloody trying to maintain my composure. This sweet loving Mrs C who was on her way to Glory was NOT the woman I remembered.
My grandmother lived in an old frame house on an acre of land, still rural enough to have a barn in the back for my sister's horse, but town enough to have a laundromat and a little store next door. She had 6 surviving children, wore black sensible shoes, and always smelled like pee. I doubt she ever made a cookie in her life.
I grew up hearing stories about her. Like the time she moved while Grandad was at work...kids, furniture, and all...to another house down the street that she liked better. He came home to an empty house and had to go ask the neighbors where he lived. Or the time she pulled the "slop jar" (aka chamberpot) out from under the bed to pee in it, but it turned out to be Grandad's shoe.
But my own stories are better, I think.
My daddy was a long distance trucker while I was growing up and he was gone a lot. Sometimes mother just wanted out of the house, away from 3 kids, just to have a cup of coffee with a girlfriend, so she would swallow her pride and ask Mama C to watch us for a couple of hours. She would drive us down the long dark road, that ran past the Colored Cemetery and through "that" part of town and drop us off, with a solemn vow to pick us up no later than 10pm. I don't think Mama C liked to babysit, cause she was always saying something like this..."OH Laws Laws...your mother is late...I bet you some (n-word) has knocked her in the head and left her to die in the ditch...LAWS LAWS!!!" By the time Mother would arrive, MAYBE five minutes late, we were all sobbing and wailing over our dearly departed mother and Mama C was saying how she didn't like to keep kids who cried. *_*
When my sister was 16 years old, she had to have her tonsils taken out. Mother and Daddy of course went to the hospital with her, and my brother and I were left in Mama C's care. At some point after the surgery, some stitches came loose and my sister started to bleed. The surgeon was called back in, sewed her up and all was well...crisis averted. When the excitement was all over and Sis was back in her room eating ice cream, a call was placed to Mama C and the situation described. Here's how she told it to us...."Laws Laws!!! Palma is laying up there bleeding to death and nobody is doing anything to save her!! LAWS LAWS!!" (btw, my sister's name is NOT Palma, but Mama never could get our names completely right.) By the time Mother and Daddy picked us up, my brother and I were sobbing and wailing over our dearly departed sister, taken away so young....and Mama C was complaining about kids who cry. *_*
I don't get to see my babies very often, and Dave is the cookie baker around here, and I don't own an apron, but I hope I turned out to be a pretty decent Grandma after all.
I may not have become the Grandmother of my dreams, but at least I didn't become the Grandmother of my nightmares.
There is no rhyme or reason to this, just whatever happens to cross my mind.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Marriage...Gay and Straight
I want to start out by saying that I am a Christian. But not everyone in this country is, and even those who are may have different beliefs from mine. That's ok.
So New York is next to legalize gay marriage. GOOD. Now when is the rest of the country going to realize that there is a difference between civil marriage and religious marriage, and give a huge percentage of the citizens of this nation the same rights that the religious people have? Committed partners should have the right to be carried on health care plans, and any other rights that married people have, and it shouldn't matter whether they are married in a church or in a civil ceremony and it shouldn't matter who wore the dress, or whether ANYbody wore the dress. Commitment is what makes a marriage.
I am close to someone who has been in a committed gay relationship for going on 40 years. They have raised children. They are married, in my opinion.
I have a niece who is a proud lesbian. She has a wife. They are committed to each other. That's a marriage. In my opinion.
Yes, I've read my Bible. And I don't see anything that tells me that being gay keeps you out of Heaven, any more than I see anything that tells me that being straight gets you in.
The Bible tells us to Love One Another. I don't believe that God makes mistakes. I believe that we are each made the way we are for a reason, whether we are straight or gay or bi or trans. There's a reason for it.
So, to sum up my humble opinion, it's time for the government to step out of consenting adults' bedrooms and let people love one another, no matter who they are.
So New York is next to legalize gay marriage. GOOD. Now when is the rest of the country going to realize that there is a difference between civil marriage and religious marriage, and give a huge percentage of the citizens of this nation the same rights that the religious people have? Committed partners should have the right to be carried on health care plans, and any other rights that married people have, and it shouldn't matter whether they are married in a church or in a civil ceremony and it shouldn't matter who wore the dress, or whether ANYbody wore the dress. Commitment is what makes a marriage.
I am close to someone who has been in a committed gay relationship for going on 40 years. They have raised children. They are married, in my opinion.
I have a niece who is a proud lesbian. She has a wife. They are committed to each other. That's a marriage. In my opinion.
Yes, I've read my Bible. And I don't see anything that tells me that being gay keeps you out of Heaven, any more than I see anything that tells me that being straight gets you in.
The Bible tells us to Love One Another. I don't believe that God makes mistakes. I believe that we are each made the way we are for a reason, whether we are straight or gay or bi or trans. There's a reason for it.
So, to sum up my humble opinion, it's time for the government to step out of consenting adults' bedrooms and let people love one another, no matter who they are.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Blessed X 4
My sweet mama always said if you have one life-long friend, you are truly blessed. I have been blessed with 4 of them. Each one is so different, and played such a critical part in my life, I want to share them with you.
1. Barbara. My first true friend. We met on the first day of the first grade in 1962. The room was so big and so strange and I didn't have any idea where to sit or what to do...until I saw her smile. You've heard about smiles that can light up a room? Well, Barbara has one of those kinds of smiles. When she smiles, her whole face lights up and you can't help but smile with her. She was the friend who taught me trust. She taught me music. And bowling...lol. I know that I could call on her today, and she would do anything in her power for me. To be loved by Barbara is to be completely loved. After 50 years, I still love you, Sweety.
2. Yvonne. I met my next true friend when we were about 10 years old. Ok, she was 10 and I was 11. She never lets me forget that I am a tad older than she is. Just a tad. Her father's aunt lived next door to me. Since we were not in the same class at school, we were 'away-from school' friends. I loved spending the night at her place. She had 2 sisters, one older who pretty much considered us pests, and one younger that we considered a pest. We had a break in our relationship for a while when we grew up, but we mended that like nothing had ever happened. When I left my husband, at 6am with no place to go, she is the friend I called. Her response? "I've moved, but here's my address, the door is unlocked, tell my boyfriend I sent you." And there I stayed for 18 months til I moved to California. She has hundreds of friends. She's the kind of person who can say, "I'm moving on Saturday" and without saying another word, a dozen people with pickup trucks show up at her place with donuts on Saturday. To know her is to love her. She taught me loyalty. And country music!
3. Becky. She was my 'good girl' friend. Not that the others weren't good girls...they were....we all were good girls....but she is the one who went to church every Sunday. Every once in a while I'd spend the night on Saturday night and go with her. She had the most beautiful long brunette hair. I was so jealous. She also lived across the street from a cute boy who I wound up dating. Becky and I also had a long break in our relationship...14 years to be exact. You see, I had the nerve to steal her boyfriend when we were freshmen, and 2 years later, I married him. She took exception to that. Can't blame her, really, even though her daddy didn't approve of said boyfriend and it wouldn't have lasted anyway. 14 years after this happened, we moved back to our hometown, into a house 6 doors down the street from Becky. She was living in her mom's house with her 3 kids, following her divorce. I had a newborn baby and when I saw her outside one day, I pulled up to show him off. We picked up our friendship right where we left off...just like nothing had ever happened. She became the friend who came to me when I was in the hospital and helped my pull my panties up when post-surgery pain wouldn't let me do it on my own. That's a true friend!..She encouraged my writing and made me appreciate it. She also taught me about Jesus, and that was the greatest gift of all. She taught me forgiveness...hers and His.
4. Mary....Oh Mary, Mary, Mary....Mary and I met in middle school. She was the friend who was always just on the edge of naughty. She had the longest legs and the perkiest boobs of anyone I knew at the time, and she knew how to use them. She was sexy when most of us didn't even know what that meant. I loved spending the night at her place. Her room was the best in the house. She was the oldest of 3 daughters and she ruled the roost (except when her Mom reminded her who REALLY was in charge!) Her room was dark and full of music and exotic smells, and had it's own air conditioner. We'd sit on the bed and call boys and listen to great 70's music, and she'd show me how to put makeup on and what a push-up bra could do. She was the friend who taught me you could be a good girl and still push the envelope just enough to have a good time.
Every one of these women are so special to me, and it's incredible that we're still friends after 45-50 years. Where has the time gone? They each had a part in making me the woman I became, and I'm grateful for what each one taught me.
I LOVE YOU, GIRLS!!!!
1. Barbara. My first true friend. We met on the first day of the first grade in 1962. The room was so big and so strange and I didn't have any idea where to sit or what to do...until I saw her smile. You've heard about smiles that can light up a room? Well, Barbara has one of those kinds of smiles. When she smiles, her whole face lights up and you can't help but smile with her. She was the friend who taught me trust. She taught me music. And bowling...lol. I know that I could call on her today, and she would do anything in her power for me. To be loved by Barbara is to be completely loved. After 50 years, I still love you, Sweety.
2. Yvonne. I met my next true friend when we were about 10 years old. Ok, she was 10 and I was 11. She never lets me forget that I am a tad older than she is. Just a tad. Her father's aunt lived next door to me. Since we were not in the same class at school, we were 'away-from school' friends. I loved spending the night at her place. She had 2 sisters, one older who pretty much considered us pests, and one younger that we considered a pest. We had a break in our relationship for a while when we grew up, but we mended that like nothing had ever happened. When I left my husband, at 6am with no place to go, she is the friend I called. Her response? "I've moved, but here's my address, the door is unlocked, tell my boyfriend I sent you." And there I stayed for 18 months til I moved to California. She has hundreds of friends. She's the kind of person who can say, "I'm moving on Saturday" and without saying another word, a dozen people with pickup trucks show up at her place with donuts on Saturday. To know her is to love her. She taught me loyalty. And country music!
3. Becky. She was my 'good girl' friend. Not that the others weren't good girls...they were....we all were good girls....but she is the one who went to church every Sunday. Every once in a while I'd spend the night on Saturday night and go with her. She had the most beautiful long brunette hair. I was so jealous. She also lived across the street from a cute boy who I wound up dating. Becky and I also had a long break in our relationship...14 years to be exact. You see, I had the nerve to steal her boyfriend when we were freshmen, and 2 years later, I married him. She took exception to that. Can't blame her, really, even though her daddy didn't approve of said boyfriend and it wouldn't have lasted anyway. 14 years after this happened, we moved back to our hometown, into a house 6 doors down the street from Becky. She was living in her mom's house with her 3 kids, following her divorce. I had a newborn baby and when I saw her outside one day, I pulled up to show him off. We picked up our friendship right where we left off...just like nothing had ever happened. She became the friend who came to me when I was in the hospital and helped my pull my panties up when post-surgery pain wouldn't let me do it on my own. That's a true friend!..She encouraged my writing and made me appreciate it. She also taught me about Jesus, and that was the greatest gift of all. She taught me forgiveness...hers and His.
4. Mary....Oh Mary, Mary, Mary....Mary and I met in middle school. She was the friend who was always just on the edge of naughty. She had the longest legs and the perkiest boobs of anyone I knew at the time, and she knew how to use them. She was sexy when most of us didn't even know what that meant. I loved spending the night at her place. Her room was the best in the house. She was the oldest of 3 daughters and she ruled the roost (except when her Mom reminded her who REALLY was in charge!) Her room was dark and full of music and exotic smells, and had it's own air conditioner. We'd sit on the bed and call boys and listen to great 70's music, and she'd show me how to put makeup on and what a push-up bra could do. She was the friend who taught me you could be a good girl and still push the envelope just enough to have a good time.
Every one of these women are so special to me, and it's incredible that we're still friends after 45-50 years. Where has the time gone? They each had a part in making me the woman I became, and I'm grateful for what each one taught me.
I LOVE YOU, GIRLS!!!!
Saturday, June 25, 2011
A Day in the Life
Oh what an interesting day this has been. Lots on my mind.
Dave and I started out the day by scooting up to Sears to get my eyes checked and buy some new glasses. I had picked out some frames when we were there on Thursday, and luckily they were still there today....they were on sale, so if they had been gone, I would be s.o.l. I really like them too. I've always worn frames that were kinda non-descript...blend in...maybe nobody will notice....I must be getting a little feisty in my old age. These have a wider temple piece that is silver mesh...rather futuristic. They go very well with my fresh spiky, mostly silver haircut.
While we were there, I noticed that, for some odd reason, my powerchair did not charge completely last night, so I was on limited power. Even though I plugged in at the optical place and charged while I had my exam, it still wasn't enough. Dave and I stopped and picked up some Del Taco for lunch, then headed for home. It soon became obvious that we weren't going to make it. Plan B....we headed to the Senior Center that was about 3 blocks away. Dave had to give me a little push up the ramps, but we made it. I plugged in and we ate our lunch, then spent another hour playing cards. By that time, I had enough power to make it the rest of the way home. We stopped at a yard sale, and I bought 2 picture frames.
We got home and turned on the race, but since it was a road race instead of a 'go fast-turn left' race, I went to take a nap. When I woke up, I got online and messed around in Facebook for a while, chatted with Joe (Son #1) and then stopped to clean up my kitchen while he dealt with Moosie, who was shredding some napkins. Dave woke up from his nap, and I made us a sandwich for dinner.
A few days ago, Yahoo said I had to upgrade my email to their newest version. I did. I hate it. I don't care if videos and mobile is faster. I don't use those in Yahoo. I just want my mail. So I contacted their Customer Care tonight for a live chat. I got Nikki. Nikki did a really good job of pasting in her form answers, which insisted that I couldn't go back to the Classic email. Until I called her on it and asked her to talk to me like a human, not a robot. Then she said she could try to revert me back to Classic, but it might not work since she didn't have the tools to do it with. Huh? Oh forget it, Nikki, I'll try to deal with this new crappy version, but I thoroughly resent the fact that I no longer have a choice.
Speaking of new and improved, why is it that things that are "new and improved" rarely are? I upgraded my Firefox, for 'security' and now I don't have that wonderful page that I liked so much. When I'd open a new tab, there was 9 of my favorite places to go...just a click away. Now I have a blank white page, and I have to go looking for my favorite pages. They said some things wouldn't be compatible right away, but they would add them as soon as they were....they need to hurry on this one.
Hmm...come to think of it....not so interesting a day after all.
Dave and I started out the day by scooting up to Sears to get my eyes checked and buy some new glasses. I had picked out some frames when we were there on Thursday, and luckily they were still there today....they were on sale, so if they had been gone, I would be s.o.l. I really like them too. I've always worn frames that were kinda non-descript...blend in...maybe nobody will notice....I must be getting a little feisty in my old age. These have a wider temple piece that is silver mesh...rather futuristic. They go very well with my fresh spiky, mostly silver haircut.
While we were there, I noticed that, for some odd reason, my powerchair did not charge completely last night, so I was on limited power. Even though I plugged in at the optical place and charged while I had my exam, it still wasn't enough. Dave and I stopped and picked up some Del Taco for lunch, then headed for home. It soon became obvious that we weren't going to make it. Plan B....we headed to the Senior Center that was about 3 blocks away. Dave had to give me a little push up the ramps, but we made it. I plugged in and we ate our lunch, then spent another hour playing cards. By that time, I had enough power to make it the rest of the way home. We stopped at a yard sale, and I bought 2 picture frames.
We got home and turned on the race, but since it was a road race instead of a 'go fast-turn left' race, I went to take a nap. When I woke up, I got online and messed around in Facebook for a while, chatted with Joe (Son #1) and then stopped to clean up my kitchen while he dealt with Moosie, who was shredding some napkins. Dave woke up from his nap, and I made us a sandwich for dinner.
A few days ago, Yahoo said I had to upgrade my email to their newest version. I did. I hate it. I don't care if videos and mobile is faster. I don't use those in Yahoo. I just want my mail. So I contacted their Customer Care tonight for a live chat. I got Nikki. Nikki did a really good job of pasting in her form answers, which insisted that I couldn't go back to the Classic email. Until I called her on it and asked her to talk to me like a human, not a robot. Then she said she could try to revert me back to Classic, but it might not work since she didn't have the tools to do it with. Huh? Oh forget it, Nikki, I'll try to deal with this new crappy version, but I thoroughly resent the fact that I no longer have a choice.
Speaking of new and improved, why is it that things that are "new and improved" rarely are? I upgraded my Firefox, for 'security' and now I don't have that wonderful page that I liked so much. When I'd open a new tab, there was 9 of my favorite places to go...just a click away. Now I have a blank white page, and I have to go looking for my favorite pages. They said some things wouldn't be compatible right away, but they would add them as soon as they were....they need to hurry on this one.
Hmm...come to think of it....not so interesting a day after all.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Pain Pills, Numb Toes and Mexicans
THAT got your attention, didn't it?
(Pain pills)
I took a pain pill before trying to sleep tonight. If I should die before I wake, blame the pill. I hate hate hate to take pills. Even though I have a lot of trouble sleeping due to this damned neuropathy in my feet, I don't like to take pain pills. I took Hydrocodone/Apap that was prescribed for me when I had a gall bladder attack in November. Even though I'm allergic to Codeine, they said I could take that, but I will always be leery because of the Mexicans.
(Numb toes)
I would say that Neuropathy is a pain in the ass, but actually it's a pain about 3 feet lower, my feet. If my toes aren't numb, they're burning, if they're not burning, they're tingling, if they're not tingling, they're cramping. UGH!!...See why I can't sleep?!?!?
(Mexicans)
I bet you thought I'd never get around to the Mexicans part of this middle-of-the-night diversion, didn't you? They are connected to the Pain Pill part, so this is coming full circle, and then I can go back to bed.
Back in 1985 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Son #2, Gary, by Cesarian section. I had a spinal block, and they told me not to raise my head, or I would get a massive headache. I raised my head, and sure enough, I got a massive headache. I was prescribed some super-whammy Codeine for the pain.
At the time, the ex, sons #1 and #2, and I were living in Podunk, Texas right across the street from a huge 1920's house that had a garage apartment in the back. In fact, at one time, we had lived in the house part, and my brother had lived in the garage apartment part, so I knew the layout of the place.
There were about a half-dozen Mexican men living in the garage apartment. (Told ya I'd get there). Now on Friday night, you could usually see a small goat tied up outside their place, and on Saturday the music would start, several friends would join them, and the smell of barbecue was in the air and the goat was gone. Took me a while to figure that one out.
Anyway, I was home from the hospital, trying to nurse a baby AND a massive headache. One night, I took the Codeine and put the baby in the bassinette beside my bed and tried to sleep. I was doing pretty good until the Mariachi music started full blast and the window to my room opened. One by one, the Mexicans climbed into my room. One had the boom box, one had the goat on a rope...all carried something. They weren't bothering me, it was more like they were just passing through. I tried to wake Jim (the ex) to make him get the Mexicans out of my bedroom before they woke the baby, but he just slept on, never hearing a thing. I yelled, I screamed, I beat his arm with my fist...nothing..ZZZZZZzzzzzz. I finally gave up and went back to sleep myself.
In the morning, I asked him why he didn't wake up to help me get our uninvited guests out of our house, and he said he never heard a word out of me, never felt any of the pummeling I gave him. How could he not feel it? I was Mike Tyson!! I was a she-bear protecting her cub!! He had to have felt it.... Nope....BUT, my OWN arm was black and blue. ....I was having a hallucination, and was beating my own arm.....(Insert Twilight Zone music here)
NOW see why I hate to take pain pills?
(Pain pills)
I took a pain pill before trying to sleep tonight. If I should die before I wake, blame the pill. I hate hate hate to take pills. Even though I have a lot of trouble sleeping due to this damned neuropathy in my feet, I don't like to take pain pills. I took Hydrocodone/Apap that was prescribed for me when I had a gall bladder attack in November. Even though I'm allergic to Codeine, they said I could take that, but I will always be leery because of the Mexicans.
(Numb toes)
I would say that Neuropathy is a pain in the ass, but actually it's a pain about 3 feet lower, my feet. If my toes aren't numb, they're burning, if they're not burning, they're tingling, if they're not tingling, they're cramping. UGH!!...See why I can't sleep?!?!?
(Mexicans)
I bet you thought I'd never get around to the Mexicans part of this middle-of-the-night diversion, didn't you? They are connected to the Pain Pill part, so this is coming full circle, and then I can go back to bed.
Back in 1985 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Son #2, Gary, by Cesarian section. I had a spinal block, and they told me not to raise my head, or I would get a massive headache. I raised my head, and sure enough, I got a massive headache. I was prescribed some super-whammy Codeine for the pain.
At the time, the ex, sons #1 and #2, and I were living in Podunk, Texas right across the street from a huge 1920's house that had a garage apartment in the back. In fact, at one time, we had lived in the house part, and my brother had lived in the garage apartment part, so I knew the layout of the place.
There were about a half-dozen Mexican men living in the garage apartment. (Told ya I'd get there). Now on Friday night, you could usually see a small goat tied up outside their place, and on Saturday the music would start, several friends would join them, and the smell of barbecue was in the air and the goat was gone. Took me a while to figure that one out.
Anyway, I was home from the hospital, trying to nurse a baby AND a massive headache. One night, I took the Codeine and put the baby in the bassinette beside my bed and tried to sleep. I was doing pretty good until the Mariachi music started full blast and the window to my room opened. One by one, the Mexicans climbed into my room. One had the boom box, one had the goat on a rope...all carried something. They weren't bothering me, it was more like they were just passing through. I tried to wake Jim (the ex) to make him get the Mexicans out of my bedroom before they woke the baby, but he just slept on, never hearing a thing. I yelled, I screamed, I beat his arm with my fist...nothing..ZZZZZZzzzzzz. I finally gave up and went back to sleep myself.
In the morning, I asked him why he didn't wake up to help me get our uninvited guests out of our house, and he said he never heard a word out of me, never felt any of the pummeling I gave him. How could he not feel it? I was Mike Tyson!! I was a she-bear protecting her cub!! He had to have felt it.... Nope....BUT, my OWN arm was black and blue. ....I was having a hallucination, and was beating my own arm.....(Insert Twilight Zone music here)
NOW see why I hate to take pain pills?
Monday, June 20, 2011
Awww....Wook at the Pwetty Kitty
Toby has always been one to argue and sass back. He and Dave get into it all the time. Dave likes to think he wins every time, cause as he says "Dave is always right"...but I've seen Toby get the better of him a few times.
Here's one of their better arguments....Dave finally won, but it was after the battle.
He's recently decided that he needs to lay on my keyboard. Just before I typed this story, he stuck his elbow onto some key and opened 30 Firefox windows.
Toby is a thief. A couple of years ago, Dave was at home making cookies for Christmas while I was at work. He called and asked me to bring home a set of measuring spoons. I asked, "Why? You have measuring spoons."....Correction...he HAD measuring spoons...til Toby stole them and took them under the bed. That was about 3 years ago, and I still haven't found them.
One day I brought home some cherries....beautiful deep red Bing cherries....YUM!.....Dave and I were chatting in the kitchen, washing the cherries, when You-Know-Who just walked up to the basket and grabbed a cherry by the stem and walked away with it. We got a picture of him, with his cherry swinging, but I can't seem to find it. Too bad.
I do have to give him credit for having a little bit of brains. Dave has taught him to shake hands....or paws.
And he will come on command and jump up on the walker, and he will give me a kitty rub when he's told to.
I think he only does all that cause he knows who controls the kibble.
Next time, I'll tell you about Mitzi...Daddy's widdle girl....
Saturday, June 18, 2011
World's Greatest Potato Salad
I promised some recipes and this is one that's always been a favorite with my friends and family. Don't make any changes or you won't have the World's Greatest Potato Salad, you'll just have potato salad.
Take that biggest pot that came with your set of pots and pans....you know the one....you boil spaghetti in it. Wash enough russet potatoes to cover the bottom of it and cover them with plenty of water. Pet them on to simmer until they stick tender with a knife. Take them out of the water and let them cool. Then peel off the skins and rough chop them. It's important to take them out of the water to cool, cause you don't want them to sit in the water and get soggy.
Boil 6 eggs and peel and chop them
Chop 5-6 SWEET pickles
Chop half of a good sized sweet red onion. Remember that a red onion should be shaped like a hockey puck, not like a baseball. The big round ones will be hot, not sweet.
Chop about 4 ribs of celery. Remember to peel the strings off first. It's just nicer that way.
Mix all that stuff together.
In another bowl, put about a cup and a half of Best Foods Mayonnaise. (I think it's called Hellman's in other parts of the country. Kraft if you just have to.) Mix in a tablespoon of yellow mustard, salt and fresh cracked black pepper. You want just enough mustard to take the 'white' off the mayo...not to give a big mustard-y taste.
Now here's the secret...pour a couple of tablespoons of the juice from the pickle jar into the mayo mixture and stir it up good.
Pour the mayo onto the potato mixture and stir it up good. I use Mother Nature's spatulas....my clean hands.
WARNING....if you don't want to be responsible for the potato salad at every pot-luck, barbecue, and family reunion....don't make this recipe.
Take that biggest pot that came with your set of pots and pans....you know the one....you boil spaghetti in it. Wash enough russet potatoes to cover the bottom of it and cover them with plenty of water. Pet them on to simmer until they stick tender with a knife. Take them out of the water and let them cool. Then peel off the skins and rough chop them. It's important to take them out of the water to cool, cause you don't want them to sit in the water and get soggy.
Boil 6 eggs and peel and chop them
Chop 5-6 SWEET pickles
Chop half of a good sized sweet red onion. Remember that a red onion should be shaped like a hockey puck, not like a baseball. The big round ones will be hot, not sweet.
Chop about 4 ribs of celery. Remember to peel the strings off first. It's just nicer that way.
Mix all that stuff together.
In another bowl, put about a cup and a half of Best Foods Mayonnaise. (I think it's called Hellman's in other parts of the country. Kraft if you just have to.) Mix in a tablespoon of yellow mustard, salt and fresh cracked black pepper. You want just enough mustard to take the 'white' off the mayo...not to give a big mustard-y taste.
Now here's the secret...pour a couple of tablespoons of the juice from the pickle jar into the mayo mixture and stir it up good.
Pour the mayo onto the potato mixture and stir it up good. I use Mother Nature's spatulas....my clean hands.
WARNING....if you don't want to be responsible for the potato salad at every pot-luck, barbecue, and family reunion....don't make this recipe.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Let's call this my PSA.
Warning to all my male readers....I'm about to discuss girly bits. Now might be a good time to go do some guy stuff....
I want to talk about PCOS....Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. A lot of people don't know what it is, and a lot of people don't know that they have it. I didn't. I just knew something was wrong with me. Not one doctor told me it had a name until about 1990. When I finally learned that it wasn't 'all in my head' I thought I would cry.
First of all, let's talk about what it is. It is actually the most common female hormonal disorder. It has a lot of characteristics, including excessive weight gain and obesity, irregular, heavy or completely absent periods, ovarian cysts, excessive facial or body hair, Alopecia (male pattern hair loss), acne, skin tags (growths from the skin), Acanthosis Nigricans (brown skin patches) high cholesterol levels, exhaustion or lack of mental alertness, decreased sex drive and excess male hormones. Other symptoms also include sleep apnea, thyroid disorders and depression and anxiety.A study in 2000 shows that women with PCOS have a higher risk of coronary heart disease.
An estimated 5-10% of women of childbearing age are affected by Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and it is one of the leading causes of infertility.
Ok...now that you know what it is.....how do you know if you have it? Take this test. Print out your results and take them to your doctor. And if your doctor shakes his/her head and says it's all in YOUR head....find a new doctor.
Here's the way it went with me. I had a history of irregular periods from the time I first started having them. I married at 16. Even though no birth control was used, it was 8 years later that I finally got pregnant. Then another 5 years with no birth control before I got pregnant again. And in between, I had maybe 4 periods a year. That ain't right. At the time of my second Cesarean, I told my doctor I felt a cyst, and he said, no it's just the baby's elbow.....that elbow turned out to be a cyst the size of a ping pong ball.
I found it very very easy to gain weight, and nearly impossible to lose it, even though I didn't eat big meals, and I was chasing after two boys. My mother commented often that I should have been 'skinny as a rail', as active as I was. I had the hair growth and the skin tags and the exhaustion and the lowered sex drive and blah blah blah all that other stuff. When I did have a period, it was heavy and lasted 10 days.
When my younger son was about 5, I went to see another doctor and lo and behold, he did NOT tell me it was all in my head. He had a name for it.....PCOS. Not only did he have a name for it, he had a treatment. Surgery. So I underwent what he called a "Bi-lateral wedge resection". Which means that he cut a pie shaped wedge out of each ovary, which was supposed to remove the section that produced male hormones and thus solve all my problems. It didn't.
I finally had a total hysterectomy in 1995. That solved a lot of my problems, but the damage that had been done can never be repaired. I will always have the skin tags and the obesity, and the lack of alertness and the blah blah blah other stuff.
I'm not going to step over my bounds and try to give anyone medical advice. Other than this....if you take the test and it shows you MAY have PCOS, see a doctor who is familiar with it and can take you through the best treatment. Do it while you're young, and maybe you can prevent some of the damage it can cause.
Okay, fellas, you can come back now.
I want to talk about PCOS....Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. A lot of people don't know what it is, and a lot of people don't know that they have it. I didn't. I just knew something was wrong with me. Not one doctor told me it had a name until about 1990. When I finally learned that it wasn't 'all in my head' I thought I would cry.
First of all, let's talk about what it is. It is actually the most common female hormonal disorder. It has a lot of characteristics, including excessive weight gain and obesity, irregular, heavy or completely absent periods, ovarian cysts, excessive facial or body hair, Alopecia (male pattern hair loss), acne, skin tags (growths from the skin), Acanthosis Nigricans (brown skin patches) high cholesterol levels, exhaustion or lack of mental alertness, decreased sex drive and excess male hormones. Other symptoms also include sleep apnea, thyroid disorders and depression and anxiety.A study in 2000 shows that women with PCOS have a higher risk of coronary heart disease.
An estimated 5-10% of women of childbearing age are affected by Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome and it is one of the leading causes of infertility.
Ok...now that you know what it is.....how do you know if you have it? Take this test. Print out your results and take them to your doctor. And if your doctor shakes his/her head and says it's all in YOUR head....find a new doctor.
Here's the way it went with me. I had a history of irregular periods from the time I first started having them. I married at 16. Even though no birth control was used, it was 8 years later that I finally got pregnant. Then another 5 years with no birth control before I got pregnant again. And in between, I had maybe 4 periods a year. That ain't right. At the time of my second Cesarean, I told my doctor I felt a cyst, and he said, no it's just the baby's elbow.....that elbow turned out to be a cyst the size of a ping pong ball.
I found it very very easy to gain weight, and nearly impossible to lose it, even though I didn't eat big meals, and I was chasing after two boys. My mother commented often that I should have been 'skinny as a rail', as active as I was. I had the hair growth and the skin tags and the exhaustion and the lowered sex drive and blah blah blah all that other stuff. When I did have a period, it was heavy and lasted 10 days.
When my younger son was about 5, I went to see another doctor and lo and behold, he did NOT tell me it was all in my head. He had a name for it.....PCOS. Not only did he have a name for it, he had a treatment. Surgery. So I underwent what he called a "Bi-lateral wedge resection". Which means that he cut a pie shaped wedge out of each ovary, which was supposed to remove the section that produced male hormones and thus solve all my problems. It didn't.
I finally had a total hysterectomy in 1995. That solved a lot of my problems, but the damage that had been done can never be repaired. I will always have the skin tags and the obesity, and the lack of alertness and the blah blah blah other stuff.
I'm not going to step over my bounds and try to give anyone medical advice. Other than this....if you take the test and it shows you MAY have PCOS, see a doctor who is familiar with it and can take you through the best treatment. Do it while you're young, and maybe you can prevent some of the damage it can cause.
Okay, fellas, you can come back now.
Pissin' and Moanin'
Someone on Facebook told me the other day that I did too much pissin' and moanin'. I very rarely bitch about anything on Facebook, except occasionally when I'm in a lot of pain, but even then I start off with a 'whine alert'. But I would hate for this person to be proved a liar (oops...too late)....so I will now do some pissin' and moanin' and give you a list of my pet peeves.
1. Able bodied people who park in handicapped spaces. Those things are few and far between. I'm not talking about the ones with invisible disabilities, I'm talking about the ones who bounce out of the car and run in to the store, and think it's ok, cause they're only going to be a few minutes. Or they leave the handicapped person in the car, and bounce/run. etc.
2. Insincere apologies. We've all heard them. Like when somebody calls you a jackass, and when you say, "Hey! I'm offended that you called me a jackass!" and they say, "I'm sorry you feel that way." Never do they say, "I'm sorry I called you a jackass."
3. People who interrupt. Many times I've been sitting around a table with friends in the clubhouse here at Limpdik Park, having a nice conversation, and someone will walk in and come up to the table and just start running their mouth, interrupting the person who was talking. HEY!...Do you see me here? Do you hear the words still coming out of my mouth?....Oh I get it...your story is much more important than mine...
4. People who think their way is the best way, always. I was at Crochet Club today. One of the ladies is a beginner knitter and she had dropped a stitch and needed help, so the instructor was helping her fix it. In walked another lady who proceeded to take the work out of the instructors hands and show her a better way to fix it. (It wasn't a better way, by the way). She has an answer for everything, most of which involves lavender oil per Dr. Oz. (WTF is Dr Oz?)
5. Mooches. We have a lot of residents here that you never ever see unless free food is involved. Sometimes companies will come in to present a program about their services and they will bring snacks. We have people who will come just about the time the program is wrapping up, just so they can mooch the free food. These same mooches will take way more than their share when someone puts a plate of cookies out by the coffee pot, too.
6. People who don't understand the concept of time zones. I watch a lot of reality TV. Those shows where someone is eliminated every week. People on Facebook don't understand that the West Coast hasn't seen the show yet...don't post all over your wall who was voted off, or who won...Let us enjoy the show too! It's just common courtesy. You can comment about the outcome without spoiling it for others...I know it can be done...I've done it...Example: "WOW! I was really pleased with the outcome of that episode."..or..."Wow! what a surprise that was!"
7. Some of the stupid things people wear. I am so sick of seeing boys and grown men with their pants hanging down to their thighs. I've even seen some who had to cinch them with a belt, 4 inches above their knees, to keep them up. I really don't want to see your plaid boxers, fella!..Pull your pants up!! And whats with women running around with their bellies hanging out? In a tee shirt that is too tight and too short. Flabby little rolls spilling out over the tops of their jeans. C'mon girls, I've learned to hide my fat..it can be done! Don't people own mirrors anymore?
Okay...that's enough for now...don't be surprised if we revisit this subject down the road.
1. Able bodied people who park in handicapped spaces. Those things are few and far between. I'm not talking about the ones with invisible disabilities, I'm talking about the ones who bounce out of the car and run in to the store, and think it's ok, cause they're only going to be a few minutes. Or they leave the handicapped person in the car, and bounce/run. etc.
2. Insincere apologies. We've all heard them. Like when somebody calls you a jackass, and when you say, "Hey! I'm offended that you called me a jackass!" and they say, "I'm sorry you feel that way." Never do they say, "I'm sorry I called you a jackass."
3. People who interrupt. Many times I've been sitting around a table with friends in the clubhouse here at Limpdik Park, having a nice conversation, and someone will walk in and come up to the table and just start running their mouth, interrupting the person who was talking. HEY!...Do you see me here? Do you hear the words still coming out of my mouth?....Oh I get it...your story is much more important than mine...
4. People who think their way is the best way, always. I was at Crochet Club today. One of the ladies is a beginner knitter and she had dropped a stitch and needed help, so the instructor was helping her fix it. In walked another lady who proceeded to take the work out of the instructors hands and show her a better way to fix it. (It wasn't a better way, by the way). She has an answer for everything, most of which involves lavender oil per Dr. Oz. (WTF is Dr Oz?)
5. Mooches. We have a lot of residents here that you never ever see unless free food is involved. Sometimes companies will come in to present a program about their services and they will bring snacks. We have people who will come just about the time the program is wrapping up, just so they can mooch the free food. These same mooches will take way more than their share when someone puts a plate of cookies out by the coffee pot, too.
6. People who don't understand the concept of time zones. I watch a lot of reality TV. Those shows where someone is eliminated every week. People on Facebook don't understand that the West Coast hasn't seen the show yet...don't post all over your wall who was voted off, or who won...Let us enjoy the show too! It's just common courtesy. You can comment about the outcome without spoiling it for others...I know it can be done...I've done it...Example: "WOW! I was really pleased with the outcome of that episode."..or..."Wow! what a surprise that was!"
7. Some of the stupid things people wear. I am so sick of seeing boys and grown men with their pants hanging down to their thighs. I've even seen some who had to cinch them with a belt, 4 inches above their knees, to keep them up. I really don't want to see your plaid boxers, fella!..Pull your pants up!! And whats with women running around with their bellies hanging out? In a tee shirt that is too tight and too short. Flabby little rolls spilling out over the tops of their jeans. C'mon girls, I've learned to hide my fat..it can be done! Don't people own mirrors anymore?
Okay...that's enough for now...don't be surprised if we revisit this subject down the road.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
I haven't forgotten
I haven't blogged in the past couple of days because I sprained my shoulder and it hurts to type. One more day, and I'll be back!!
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Nurse = Angel
There was a discussion about nurses in one of the Facebook groups I'm in, so I wanted to share my favorite nurse story with you.
In the Fall of 2007, I came down with pneumonia and had to go to the hospital. I was very sick. I had 105 degrees fever and was packed in ice for 2 days to bring it down. By the third day I was there, I was lonely and dirty and miserable. I had no family or friends here and Dave wasn't able to get to the hospital, so I felt like I was dying alone. That's when a barely 20-year-old angel named Brittany came to my room.
She was a student from the nursing school at the college here in town and she wasn't any bigger than a minute. Cute little thing. She came to my room and asked me how I was feeling. I told her I was feeling awful. Something must have clicked with her, cause she went to work making me feel better.
She got a basin of warm soapy water and gave me sponge bath. She changed my clothes and rubbed my feet with lotion and put warm socks on me. She brushed all the tangles out of my hair and put it up in a ponytail.
Her gentle hands and compassion, along with my feelings of sickness and loneliness made me start to cry. This little snippet of a girl climbed up onto the side of my bed and took this old lady in her arms and held me and stroked my hair while I sobbed.
I truly believe that this little girl helped to save my life. I felt 100% better the next day and went home the day after that.
I hope she never burns out and loses that sweet caring heart that she showed to me on that night. She will always be an angel of mercy to me.
In the Fall of 2007, I came down with pneumonia and had to go to the hospital. I was very sick. I had 105 degrees fever and was packed in ice for 2 days to bring it down. By the third day I was there, I was lonely and dirty and miserable. I had no family or friends here and Dave wasn't able to get to the hospital, so I felt like I was dying alone. That's when a barely 20-year-old angel named Brittany came to my room.
She was a student from the nursing school at the college here in town and she wasn't any bigger than a minute. Cute little thing. She came to my room and asked me how I was feeling. I told her I was feeling awful. Something must have clicked with her, cause she went to work making me feel better.
She got a basin of warm soapy water and gave me sponge bath. She changed my clothes and rubbed my feet with lotion and put warm socks on me. She brushed all the tangles out of my hair and put it up in a ponytail.
Her gentle hands and compassion, along with my feelings of sickness and loneliness made me start to cry. This little snippet of a girl climbed up onto the side of my bed and took this old lady in her arms and held me and stroked my hair while I sobbed.
I truly believe that this little girl helped to save my life. I felt 100% better the next day and went home the day after that.
I hope she never burns out and loses that sweet caring heart that she showed to me on that night. She will always be an angel of mercy to me.
One more poem
There are a couple of campers and RVs on the WalMart lot here, and I got to thinking about what brought them there. Came home and wrote this poem. My friend says it's "dark and creepy". Yeah,so?
Camper Poem
We’re livin’ in a camper on the WalMart parking lot.
He said “It’s temporary”, but I just found out it’s not.
I can’t do the laundry and the kids can’t go outside.
The curtains have to stay pulled down, and all because he lied.
The cars all drive around us, and I see the drivers stare.
They’re wonderin’ if we’re in here, I’m wonderin’ if they care.
We can’t afford a house to rent, but he can buy his beer.
If I had another place to go, I’d sure get outta here.
So I’ll just bide my time, and then I’ll turn the propane on.
By the time the shoppers hear the boom, we will be long gone.
Camper Poem
We’re livin’ in a camper on the WalMart parking lot.
He said “It’s temporary”, but I just found out it’s not.
I can’t do the laundry and the kids can’t go outside.
The curtains have to stay pulled down, and all because he lied.
The cars all drive around us, and I see the drivers stare.
They’re wonderin’ if we’re in here, I’m wonderin’ if they care.
We can’t afford a house to rent, but he can buy his beer.
If I had another place to go, I’d sure get outta here.
So I’ll just bide my time, and then I’ll turn the propane on.
By the time the shoppers hear the boom, we will be long gone.
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Small Appliances Can Be Dangerous
I guess I have to tell my Veg-O-Matic story. You remember the Veg-O-Matic, don't you? That plastic thing with changeable blades that make cutting french fries a breeze?
Yeah, well, that's not ALL they can slice and dice, lemme tell ya.
Let's go back to my pre-children days...ohhhh about 1978 or so. We were living in a huge old house in Jacksboro with a kitchen not much smaller than the apartment we have now.
I was quite young, and....ahem...quite 'perky' if ya get my drift. ( o Y o) .
Anyway, I had a new Veg-O-Matic and I was gonna make some french fries....all you had to do was put the potato on the blades, and KA-CHUNK!!!....you've got mounds of cut potatoes....right?
Well, I put my potato on the blade, my hands on the handles on the sides, and KA-CH....nuthin'. That thing would not cut. So I tried again...KA-CH...nuthin'.
DAMN! This wasn't as easy as they said it was on TV. But ya gotta be smarter than a small appliance, so I decided to use a little leverage on it.
I put my hand on the top of it....leaned over it...(remember the perkiness?) and KA-CHUNK!!!!!!!......AAAAYYYYEEEIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Yep...that's right....I am probably the only person you will ever know who got her tit caught in the Veg-O-Matic.
Which is why, from that day forward, I had one that pointed to El Paso and one that pointed somewhere down about Chihuahua Mexico.
AND STOP LOOKING!!!!
Yeah, well, that's not ALL they can slice and dice, lemme tell ya.
Let's go back to my pre-children days...ohhhh about 1978 or so. We were living in a huge old house in Jacksboro with a kitchen not much smaller than the apartment we have now.
I was quite young, and....ahem...quite 'perky' if ya get my drift. ( o Y o) .
Anyway, I had a new Veg-O-Matic and I was gonna make some french fries....all you had to do was put the potato on the blades, and KA-CHUNK!!!....you've got mounds of cut potatoes....right?
Well, I put my potato on the blade, my hands on the handles on the sides, and KA-CH....nuthin'. That thing would not cut. So I tried again...KA-CH...nuthin'.
DAMN! This wasn't as easy as they said it was on TV. But ya gotta be smarter than a small appliance, so I decided to use a little leverage on it.
I put my hand on the top of it....leaned over it...(remember the perkiness?) and KA-CHUNK!!!!!!!......AAAAYYYYEEEIIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Yep...that's right....I am probably the only person you will ever know who got her tit caught in the Veg-O-Matic.
Which is why, from that day forward, I had one that pointed to El Paso and one that pointed somewhere down about Chihuahua Mexico.
AND STOP LOOKING!!!!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Howsabout another poem?
This one was published online shortly after I wrote it in 2001.
Thunderstorm
by Cyndilu
So frightening to a child
So exciting to a woman
I used to run to my mother's arms
Now I run to yours.
No longer hiding under covers
I stand on the porch
Your chin resting on my head
Safe in the arms of love.
Crash of thunder
Flash of lightening
Electricity is in the air
Is it the storm... Or is it you?
Thunderstorm
by Cyndilu
So frightening to a child
So exciting to a woman
I used to run to my mother's arms
Now I run to yours.
No longer hiding under covers
I stand on the porch
Your chin resting on my head
Safe in the arms of love.
Crash of thunder
Flash of lightening
Electricity is in the air
Is it the storm... Or is it you?
Welcome to Limpdik Park
Sometimes called Golden Acres. That's not the real name of the 55+ apartment complex we live it, but it'll do. We love it here. We have a small apartment, but there are a lot of amenities to make up for it. We have a gym (like I care) and a billiards room, and a computer room/library and a theater and a multipurpose room. Also a heated pool and a jacuzzi.
We have a lot of good friends here and there is a lot to do. We have Bible study on Tuesday night, Happy Hour on Wednesday night (yes, you can drink whatever you want, just bring a snack to share.) Our Knit/Crochet club I told you about in the Painted Turtle thread meets on Thursday afternoon. There's canasta on Friday night. We've always have a couple of jigsaw puzzles going. (I have a love/hate relationship with those). There are movies twice a week in the theater. Dave paints on Wednesday morning. Other people do their crafts on Thursday while we're crocheting. And there are water aerobics twice a week. All in all, a resident here can stay as busy as they want to.
One of the most interesting things about this place is the residents. Especially some of the ones who have moved on to other places. We like to refer to them as the Looney Tunes. Allow me to introduce you. Oh, btw, the names have been changed to protect the innocent...even the dog.
Phil and Veronica. Phil was just a general know it all pain in the butt, but it was Veronica that took them to Looney Tune status. She liked to swim. Now, out by the pool is a little area that is basically 3 brick walls with a shower inside. This is where Veronica would strip naked and shower. In full view of at least 2 dozen apartments. She would come down and shower there even if she wasn't swimming. They never seemed to use their own apartment for things like the TV or the bathroom. Management had to take out the microwave from the lobby area, cause she burned up two of them. After threatening to move several times, management finally held them to it and they left.
Lucy had a 3 legged 'service dog' named Cody. She took him everywhere with her in a baby carriage. The day I met Lucy she told me that Cody was able to tell when she was going to have a 'spell' and warn her, but that she now took medication for whatever her condition was, so he was 'retired'. This person caused a lot of people to take sides. Management said they had to allow her to take the dog into any of the common areas because he was a 'service dog'. Others said that since he was retired and no longer performed this 'service', he should be kept out of the common areas just like any other pet. Especially the people who were allergic were on this side. Mostly their relationship was just gross. She would bring the dog in his carriage to any pot luck dinners we had, rub her hands all over him then pick up a spoon and stir something. She would feed the dog with her fork from her plate and before it was all over, she was practically french kissing the damn thing. UGH! I mean, I'll kiss my cats, but not with tongue. She spent most of her time bawling about nobody liking her. Wonder why. Cody passed away and has been replaced with another dog. I have yet to hear whether she is passing the new one off as a service dog or not. RIP Cody.
Then there was Red. I never knew what her real name was, but that's ok. If she had continued the way she was, I would have learned it when I called the police on her for assaulting me. There were two times that Red took exception to something I said that had nothing to do with her, and she chased me down in her power chair and threatened to get out of it and whip my ass. Yeah..right. can't blame her too much....she was on drugs....
Which she shared with Jelly. Now most of the time, Jelly looked like Marie Lebeaux and that's the nickname that I gave her. Depending on whether she had her 'meds' or not, she was either just a little crazy or a whole lot crazy. She would complain of a bad hip, and walk around with a cane with no tip on it...tap tap tap on the floor. (Canes don't work without a tip, ya know)
I've save the best til last. We called her Chiquita for so long that I don't even remember what her name was. She was the Queen Looney Tune. She would come down every morning, carrying her little metal Hello Kitty lunchbox. She would then take the coffee that was in the lobby for everyone, and pour it into her lunch box, and skitter back home with it. She also liked to flirt with all the men, and sing and dance, and skip. That's right....skip....down the hallways. Sometimes holding hands with another LT, sometimes alone.
I bet you don't have neighbors like mine.....never a dull moment at Limpdik Park.
We have a lot of good friends here and there is a lot to do. We have Bible study on Tuesday night, Happy Hour on Wednesday night (yes, you can drink whatever you want, just bring a snack to share.) Our Knit/Crochet club I told you about in the Painted Turtle thread meets on Thursday afternoon. There's canasta on Friday night. We've always have a couple of jigsaw puzzles going. (I have a love/hate relationship with those). There are movies twice a week in the theater. Dave paints on Wednesday morning. Other people do their crafts on Thursday while we're crocheting. And there are water aerobics twice a week. All in all, a resident here can stay as busy as they want to.
One of the most interesting things about this place is the residents. Especially some of the ones who have moved on to other places. We like to refer to them as the Looney Tunes. Allow me to introduce you. Oh, btw, the names have been changed to protect the innocent...even the dog.
Phil and Veronica. Phil was just a general know it all pain in the butt, but it was Veronica that took them to Looney Tune status. She liked to swim. Now, out by the pool is a little area that is basically 3 brick walls with a shower inside. This is where Veronica would strip naked and shower. In full view of at least 2 dozen apartments. She would come down and shower there even if she wasn't swimming. They never seemed to use their own apartment for things like the TV or the bathroom. Management had to take out the microwave from the lobby area, cause she burned up two of them. After threatening to move several times, management finally held them to it and they left.
Lucy had a 3 legged 'service dog' named Cody. She took him everywhere with her in a baby carriage. The day I met Lucy she told me that Cody was able to tell when she was going to have a 'spell' and warn her, but that she now took medication for whatever her condition was, so he was 'retired'. This person caused a lot of people to take sides. Management said they had to allow her to take the dog into any of the common areas because he was a 'service dog'. Others said that since he was retired and no longer performed this 'service', he should be kept out of the common areas just like any other pet. Especially the people who were allergic were on this side. Mostly their relationship was just gross. She would bring the dog in his carriage to any pot luck dinners we had, rub her hands all over him then pick up a spoon and stir something. She would feed the dog with her fork from her plate and before it was all over, she was practically french kissing the damn thing. UGH! I mean, I'll kiss my cats, but not with tongue. She spent most of her time bawling about nobody liking her. Wonder why. Cody passed away and has been replaced with another dog. I have yet to hear whether she is passing the new one off as a service dog or not. RIP Cody.
Then there was Red. I never knew what her real name was, but that's ok. If she had continued the way she was, I would have learned it when I called the police on her for assaulting me. There were two times that Red took exception to something I said that had nothing to do with her, and she chased me down in her power chair and threatened to get out of it and whip my ass. Yeah..right. can't blame her too much....she was on drugs....
Which she shared with Jelly. Now most of the time, Jelly looked like Marie Lebeaux and that's the nickname that I gave her. Depending on whether she had her 'meds' or not, she was either just a little crazy or a whole lot crazy. She would complain of a bad hip, and walk around with a cane with no tip on it...tap tap tap on the floor. (Canes don't work without a tip, ya know)
I've save the best til last. We called her Chiquita for so long that I don't even remember what her name was. She was the Queen Looney Tune. She would come down every morning, carrying her little metal Hello Kitty lunchbox. She would then take the coffee that was in the lobby for everyone, and pour it into her lunch box, and skitter back home with it. She also liked to flirt with all the men, and sing and dance, and skip. That's right....skip....down the hallways. Sometimes holding hands with another LT, sometimes alone.
I bet you don't have neighbors like mine.....never a dull moment at Limpdik Park.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Howsabout a poem?
This is the first poem I ever wrote. I was 10 years old. I gave it to my Daddy. When he died 35 years later, he still had it folded up in his wallet. Be kind, I was only a kid.
WORDS
Words are like arrows
Shot into space.
Words can bring hurt
That time can't erase.
Words said in anger
Can bring on a gloom.
A heartbreaking sadness
That fills every room.
So be careful of words
That you say through the years.
For words can bring gladness
Or sorrow and tears.
WORDS
Words are like arrows
Shot into space.
Words can bring hurt
That time can't erase.
Words said in anger
Can bring on a gloom.
A heartbreaking sadness
That fills every room.
So be careful of words
That you say through the years.
For words can bring gladness
Or sorrow and tears.
The Painted Turtle
If you watched The Celebrity Apprentice this season, you know that Meatloaf's charity was called The Painted Turtle. It's a camp here in Southern California for children with life threatening illnesses. Just a place where they can have fun and feel normal for a while.
Dave has always crocheted beautifully. His mom taught him 40 years ago. He makes afghans and baby blankets, ponchos, scarves, and wraps. I can crochet too, but he's better than I am.
Recently we started getting together with some friends here at Golden Acres on Thursday afternoons to crochet, knit, needlepoint, whatever, and visit. We try to do something for charity. Last fall we made helmet liners for the troops in Afghanistan. Then we made booties for the newborns at the hospital. One lady made hats for the babies. Dave has made probably a dozen blankets for the homeless shelter. I'll post a picture of those. We accept donated yarn and make them into things that other people can use.
Once we heard about The Painted Turtle, Dave contacted the director and found that they like to have a handmade quilt or blanket for each child's bed, that they can take home with them. Some of the parents have written to say how much the blankets mean to the kids, and that they even take them to the hospital with them when they have to go.
We decided that this is where our work needs to go. So now we are making blankets for the sick kids at the Painted Turtle camp. If you'd like to do something for a kid that will really put a smile on your heart, here is their website:
www.thepaintedturtle.org
Dave has always crocheted beautifully. His mom taught him 40 years ago. He makes afghans and baby blankets, ponchos, scarves, and wraps. I can crochet too, but he's better than I am.
Recently we started getting together with some friends here at Golden Acres on Thursday afternoons to crochet, knit, needlepoint, whatever, and visit. We try to do something for charity. Last fall we made helmet liners for the troops in Afghanistan. Then we made booties for the newborns at the hospital. One lady made hats for the babies. Dave has made probably a dozen blankets for the homeless shelter. I'll post a picture of those. We accept donated yarn and make them into things that other people can use.
Once we heard about The Painted Turtle, Dave contacted the director and found that they like to have a handmade quilt or blanket for each child's bed, that they can take home with them. Some of the parents have written to say how much the blankets mean to the kids, and that they even take them to the hospital with them when they have to go.
We decided that this is where our work needs to go. So now we are making blankets for the sick kids at the Painted Turtle camp. If you'd like to do something for a kid that will really put a smile on your heart, here is their website:
www.thepaintedturtle.org
BOOGITY! BOOGITY! BOOGITY!
Let's go racin' Boys!!!!
Did I tell you I'm a huge NASCAR fan? Oh yeah, Baby!!!....I've been to several at California Speedway, aka Auto Club Speedway. I never did like the name change. I liked the old name with the Hollywood lights logo. But they didn't ask me when they changed it.
My favorite driver is Carl Edwards. We've been watching him since he was a rookie. I told Dave he was going to be something special, and he hasn't disappointed me. He's already won the Nationwide championship once, and he's in the lead to win the Sprint championship this year. I think Jimmy Johnson can stand to lose it now. Carl has it all. He's tall, handsome, he's a gentleman, but he doesn't take any crap off of anyone (B.K.). He never forgets to thank his sponsors and his fans, and he doesn't blame anyone else for his mistakes.
I also like the rookie, Trevor Bayne. He's going to be something special too. He's already won the Dayton 500 this year...a pretty good feat for a kid.
My least favorite driver is Kyle Busch. I even have a nickname for him. It's not very nice, so I'll just give you the initials....CS. I think you can figure it out. I have tried to like him, really I have, cause he's one helluva driver. But he has always been such a whiney, cry-baby, blame everybody else, pouty,stomp off to his trailer, ignore the media, snot that I just can't like him. He has gotten better since he got married in January, though. Maybe his wife told him to quit acting like a little shit.
Did I tell you I'm a huge NASCAR fan? Oh yeah, Baby!!!....I've been to several at California Speedway, aka Auto Club Speedway. I never did like the name change. I liked the old name with the Hollywood lights logo. But they didn't ask me when they changed it.
My favorite driver is Carl Edwards. We've been watching him since he was a rookie. I told Dave he was going to be something special, and he hasn't disappointed me. He's already won the Nationwide championship once, and he's in the lead to win the Sprint championship this year. I think Jimmy Johnson can stand to lose it now. Carl has it all. He's tall, handsome, he's a gentleman, but he doesn't take any crap off of anyone (B.K.). He never forgets to thank his sponsors and his fans, and he doesn't blame anyone else for his mistakes.
I also like the rookie, Trevor Bayne. He's going to be something special too. He's already won the Dayton 500 this year...a pretty good feat for a kid.
My least favorite driver is Kyle Busch. I even have a nickname for him. It's not very nice, so I'll just give you the initials....CS. I think you can figure it out. I have tried to like him, really I have, cause he's one helluva driver. But he has always been such a whiney, cry-baby, blame everybody else, pouty,stomp off to his trailer, ignore the media, snot that I just can't like him. He has gotten better since he got married in January, though. Maybe his wife told him to quit acting like a little shit.
The Usual Suspects..Part Deux
Son #1 has given his ok to use first names...good thing....I'm not sure I could have kept up with all those aliases....aliai...aliasssess....oh heck...the phony names. Here is the cast of characters in my life:
Son #1 = Joe
DIL = Debbie
GS#1 = Jacob
GS#2 = Adam, aka Moose
Son#2 = Gary
Sweet girl Gary lives with = Rachel
That is SOOO much easier, isn't it?
Son #1 = Joe
DIL = Debbie
GS#1 = Jacob
GS#2 = Adam, aka Moose
Son#2 = Gary
Sweet girl Gary lives with = Rachel
That is SOOO much easier, isn't it?
The Usual Suspects
I guess I'd better introduce you to my family, so you'll know who you're dealing with here. My son asked me not to use names, to protect the innocent, so I'll give the kids an alias unless he changes his mind.
Me..You can call me Cyndilu. I'm 55, short, fat, and silver-haired, (mostly). I have a back injury and neuropathy which makes it necessary for me to use a powerchair to get around outside my apartment. I'm a Texan living in Southern California. No matter where I live, I will always be a Texan.
Dave is my boyfriend. We met online in 1999 in a Yahoo Cat Chat room. When my 30+ year marriage went South in 2002, we decided to meet face to face. I moved to California to live with him in 2003 and we;ve been together ever since. We live in a senior apartment complex in Southern California. I usually refer to it as Golden Acres, or Limpdik Park, depending on my mood. Dave is disabled and also uses a powerchair to get around. Sometimes we have races down the hall.
Son#1 lives in the Pacific Northwest and is the father of my only grandchildren. He is tall and handsome and a wonderful husband and father.
DIL (daughter in law) is married to Son #1 and is the best wife and mother I could ever hope for my child. She is a nurse. Beauty AND brains...can't beat that.
GS#1 is Grandson #1. He is handsome and smart and charming and polite and perfect in every way. He's going to be something special in this world someday.
GS#2 is Grandson #2. He is 14 months old and is a little handful, according to his father. Also gorgeous and brilliant and perfect in every way.
Son #2 lives back in Texas. He is so handsome and charming. And a brilliant musician. Plays guitar and drums. He is single at the moment, but he lives with a sweet girl who may become DIL#2 in the near future.
Toby and Mitzi are our two cats. Toby is a fawn tabby who is like a 14 year old boy...all legs and attitude. Loves to argue with Dave. Mitzi is a dainty little tuxedo. She is Daddy's girl and loves to snuggle on him and knitknit in his beard. Dave has trained them both to do tricks. Toby will shake hands and Mitzi will jump through a hoop. You can see them both on YouTube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqK8ikcyvjk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKjLsBH1L30&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIYuC_7Gm3M&feature=related
That's us. Gotta love 'em.
Me..You can call me Cyndilu. I'm 55, short, fat, and silver-haired, (mostly). I have a back injury and neuropathy which makes it necessary for me to use a powerchair to get around outside my apartment. I'm a Texan living in Southern California. No matter where I live, I will always be a Texan.
Dave is my boyfriend. We met online in 1999 in a Yahoo Cat Chat room. When my 30+ year marriage went South in 2002, we decided to meet face to face. I moved to California to live with him in 2003 and we;ve been together ever since. We live in a senior apartment complex in Southern California. I usually refer to it as Golden Acres, or Limpdik Park, depending on my mood. Dave is disabled and also uses a powerchair to get around. Sometimes we have races down the hall.
Son#1 lives in the Pacific Northwest and is the father of my only grandchildren. He is tall and handsome and a wonderful husband and father.
DIL (daughter in law) is married to Son #1 and is the best wife and mother I could ever hope for my child. She is a nurse. Beauty AND brains...can't beat that.
GS#1 is Grandson #1. He is handsome and smart and charming and polite and perfect in every way. He's going to be something special in this world someday.
GS#2 is Grandson #2. He is 14 months old and is a little handful, according to his father. Also gorgeous and brilliant and perfect in every way.
Son #2 lives back in Texas. He is so handsome and charming. And a brilliant musician. Plays guitar and drums. He is single at the moment, but he lives with a sweet girl who may become DIL#2 in the near future.
Toby and Mitzi are our two cats. Toby is a fawn tabby who is like a 14 year old boy...all legs and attitude. Loves to argue with Dave. Mitzi is a dainty little tuxedo. She is Daddy's girl and loves to snuggle on him and knitknit in his beard. Dave has trained them both to do tricks. Toby will shake hands and Mitzi will jump through a hoop. You can see them both on YouTube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqK8ikcyvjk
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uKjLsBH1L30&feature=related
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIYuC_7Gm3M&feature=related
That's us. Gotta love 'em.
1387 miles
That's how far it is between me and Son#2 whom I haven't seen since 2004.
I've had a brilliant idea. I get most of my brilliant ideas in the middle of the night, doncha know.
I could make a website and ask for people to sponsor one mile for one dollar. Do a Paypal thing. Call it the Mother and Child Reunion.
Whatdaya think?
I've had a brilliant idea. I get most of my brilliant ideas in the middle of the night, doncha know.
I could make a website and ask for people to sponsor one mile for one dollar. Do a Paypal thing. Call it the Mother and Child Reunion.
Whatdaya think?
Monday, June 6, 2011
Trains, Planes, and Automobiles
Ok, so this is mostly about trains...I just talked to Son #2. We've got to figure out a way to get that kid to California. I haven't seen him since 2004 and that's TOO long. Amtrak usually does some summer specials, don't they? Amtrak from Dallas to Riverside...MetroLink to the beach for the day....Maybe we need to sic DIL (daughter in law) on it, she's really good at finding cheap travel arrangements.
I'm sleeping like a baby...
...I wake up every 2 hours and cry...LOL...No seriously, I have got my days and nights mixed up. I go to sleep about 3am and sleep til 12 or 1pm. By the time I get up and around, the whole day is ruined.
I usually head to bed around midnight, then a couple of hours later, I wake up, go to the bathroom, and either turn the TV on, or come sit at the computer for a half hour or so. Then I sleep for 3 hours and get up again about 5:30, take my meds, go to the bathroom, and either turn on the TV or come sit at the computer for an hour. Then I go back to bed and sleep til at least 10am.
Sheesh...I need to sleep like a grown-up again.
I usually head to bed around midnight, then a couple of hours later, I wake up, go to the bathroom, and either turn the TV on, or come sit at the computer for a half hour or so. Then I sleep for 3 hours and get up again about 5:30, take my meds, go to the bathroom, and either turn on the TV or come sit at the computer for an hour. Then I go back to bed and sleep til at least 10am.
Sheesh...I need to sleep like a grown-up again.
Welcome to my blog.
I really have no idea what I'm doing. I just know that I have a lot of stories from my past, that people have told me are entertaining, or interesting, or touching, and I have no place to put them. So here I am...with a blog.
There is no rhyme or reason here. There may be stories about my kids, or my grandkids, or something that I grew up with. There may be a poem or two, or a recipe I like that you might like too.
I promised my son I would change the names to protect the innocent, even though he is the least innocent of the bunch. LOL.
I hope you enjoy.
There is no rhyme or reason here. There may be stories about my kids, or my grandkids, or something that I grew up with. There may be a poem or two, or a recipe I like that you might like too.
I promised my son I would change the names to protect the innocent, even though he is the least innocent of the bunch. LOL.
I hope you enjoy.
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