MERRY CHRISTMAS OR IS IT?
I have been rather ambivalent about this fast approaching Christmas. I have not finished decorating my house for Christmas. I look toward Christmas with some apprehension and should I say it, dread. I, with immense help from my hubby, as I had no ideas whatsoever what to get for anyone, purchased one gift for each adult in the family, and some a second gift, and I have wrapped them all, but I am still not in the mood for Christmas. We purchased several gifts for our one and currently only grandchild, and I have wrapped them all, but even the anticipation of Samantha's delight in her presents has not brightened my mood. I have played Christmas music on the car radio and the house radio, and marveled in the amount of snow we have on the ground this year. Most recent years it has been pretty dry up to Christmas, which always dampens my mood, but this year with the snow, instead of fostering a Christmas spirit, the snow has done nothing except be a nuisance. I even watched for about the 40th time, How the Grinch Stole Christmas the cartoon, with my youngest daughter. I did not even want to sing along with the Whovillers. For some reason, Christmas time has become the time I mentally tally up all my loved ones who are no longer on this earth to celebrate Christmas with me. Today it occurred to me that the only one left from the generation before mine in my family is my cousin Eddy, who is 80 this year. Eddy was my Aunt's child, but he was born only 10 years after my father, so I always count him as in my father's generation, not mine. And I miss them all. Then comes my son's annual ba humbug e-mail and I come crashing down. He does not want to give presents to adults. He says we all have enough stuff we do not need any more stuff. Of course he is right, but what about the joy of getting and giving gifts. It is not the gift that matters, but the giving of it. I get more joy when I give then at just about any other time in life. You might say that is why I spent over 30 years doing Social Work. I loved and love giving of my time and talents and possessions. I believe, despite my youngest daughters concern that I am not spiritual enough, that I was called to do God's work among the less fortunate, the less able, and the less stable, more vulnerable members of our society. Despite working for a government entity, I even prayed with some of them, and of course prayed for them. How my son, could not feel joy in giving, will forever remain a mystery as though I have asked for an explanation, the ones he proffers ring hollow to my ears. I hope to salvage the situation by compromise. I think it is time that our family adopts the Secret Santa program. Everyone draws a name of someone else in the family to be a Secret Santa for the next Christmas. With Secret Santa's, no one would have to give presents to everyone, but everyone would get at least one present. What do you think? I would like to hear from those who have tried this or something similar in their family. How did it work?
MERRY CHRISTMAS ONE AND ALL
***********Christmas Letter 2005 **************
good tidings of great joy
good tidings of great joy
Our house in Eastpointe is up for sale but,we have the bad luck to be in the only part of the country that is not having a housing boom.
Our extra dock is still for sale. Any takers on either?
Joe and Jeff started a second business, a walk-in eBay store.
Auction-it-TODAY on eBay. Check out what they have for sale:
http://stores.ebay.com/Auction-It-TODAY-of-Sterling-Hts
Sue got the eBay bug too; selling stuff we no longer need or have room for.
Joe and Jeff started a second business, a walk-in eBay store.
Auction-it-TODAY on eBay. Check out what they have for sale:
http://stores.ebay.com/Auction-It-TODAY-of-Sterling-Hts
Sue got the eBay bug too; selling stuff we no longer need or have room for.
Check it out: http://cgi3.ebay.com/ws/eBayISAPI.dll?ViewUserPage&userid=sulustar
Blogging has become big for Sue and Joe.
Blogging has become big for Sue and Joe.
Comments are always welcome.
Check it out:
Check it out:
Sue’s Blog Meandering with Sulustar: http://sulustars.blogspot.com/
And Joe’s Blog, Safe-T-Inspector: http://safetinspector.blogspot.com/
Once you are on either blog, there are links to our other blogs.
Joe has one for Samantha, one for his music, and one for his writing.
I have one for The Purple Gang, one about our ICM dock for sale,
And Joe’s Blog, Safe-T-Inspector: http://safetinspector.blogspot.com/
Once you are on either blog, there are links to our other blogs.
Joe has one for Samantha, one for his music, and one for his writing.
I have one for The Purple Gang, one about our ICM dock for sale,
and one for the South Park house.
Sue took Tom to her 40th high school class reunion for
Sue took Tom to her 40th high school class reunion for
McCluer Sr High, Florrisant, MO.
On the way visited Barbara at her beautiful new apartment, in Bloomington IL
Spent some time in Greenfield IL where Sue’s parents graves are located.
At the Reunion had fun visiting old friends we had not seen for many years.
Breakfast with Joy & Bud Bartold, & Alice and Dave Hunt.
On the way visited Barbara at her beautiful new apartment, in Bloomington IL
Spent some time in Greenfield IL where Sue’s parents graves are located.
At the Reunion had fun visiting old friends we had not seen for many years.
Breakfast with Joy & Bud Bartold, & Alice and Dave Hunt.
Visits in Edwardsville, IL with Marge & Ed Witchie,
and in Oquawka IL with the Revs- Bob & Betty Meode.
Enjoyed it all, though Sue had to use a walker and Tom a wheeled chair.
We made quite a pair.
Enjoyed it all, though Sue had to use a walker and Tom a wheeled chair.
We made quite a pair.
Tom had a bad leg, could not stand or walk a lot.
Sue had a strange condition causing loss of balance without warning
Sue had a strange condition causing loss of balance without warning
and felt dizzy all the time.
Tom is better, though not entirely, he is seeking a diagnosis and treatment.
Sue, it was found, had 3 herniated discs in her neck
Tom is better, though not entirely, he is seeking a diagnosis and treatment.
Sue, it was found, had 3 herniated discs in her neck
caused the lack of balance and dizziness.
Oddly had no pain in neck and continued to enjoy full range of motion.
Oddly had no pain in neck and continued to enjoy full range of motion.
Traction did the trick.
Sue is almost back to normal now.
Thanksgiving at Jerry’s house was pleasant,
Sue is almost back to normal now.
Thanksgiving at Jerry’s house was pleasant,
we met Jerry’s girlfriend, Irene, and surprising;
Joe volunteered to say Grace.
He was thankful for a long list of blessings
Joe volunteered to say Grace.
He was thankful for a long list of blessings
and finally for the fact that his wife is pregnant.
Whoa, what did you say? Heather pregnant? Yeah!
Whoa, what did you say? Heather pregnant? Yeah!
Tom and Sue want a boy.
Samantha wants a girl.
Samantha wants a girl.
Heather just wants a healthy baby.
Joe is secretly hopping for a boy. Shh! Don’t tell Heather.
Victoria, in her junior year continues at GVSU and on the honor roll.
Brett asked Tom & Sue permission to ask Victoria for her hand in marriage.
Joe is secretly hopping for a boy. Shh! Don’t tell Heather.
Victoria, in her junior year continues at GVSU and on the honor roll.
Brett asked Tom & Sue permission to ask Victoria for her hand in marriage.
We said yes.
Vicky said yes.
Vicky said yes.
Wedding in two years, after Vicky graduates from college.
Brett is off to serve his country in the US Air Force.
He left for San Antonio for basic training on Dec. 13.
He plans to keep in touch after basic, through his blog: http://www.xanga.com/jetpackdivesavah
Sue had to get another car as her lease was done.
Bought the little Red Focus for Victoria.
Brett is off to serve his country in the US Air Force.
He left for San Antonio for basic training on Dec. 13.
He plans to keep in touch after basic, through his blog: http://www.xanga.com/jetpackdivesavah
Sue had to get another car as her lease was done.
Bought the little Red Focus for Victoria.
She had been driving our old 1993 Tempo.
A Chrysler PT Cruiser convertible fit the bill for Sue.
Sue realized she was hanging onto her mother’s car, a 1961 Impala convertible, not just because it was Mother’s or ‘cause she drove it in high school,
A Chrysler PT Cruiser convertible fit the bill for Sue.
Sue realized she was hanging onto her mother’s car, a 1961 Impala convertible, not just because it was Mother’s or ‘cause she drove it in high school,
but just because it was a convertible.
With a new, just as snazzy convertible, Sue thinks it is time to send the Impala on to someone who can do more with her than Sue can.
With a new, just as snazzy convertible, Sue thinks it is time to send the Impala on to someone who can do more with her than Sue can.
(Any offers, Buddy?).
Lisa continues to do well with her business,
Lisa continues to do well with her business,
but has decided to seek an advanced degree.
Taking all the classes on-line for a Masters in military history. Amazing.
Christmas will find us with our family
Taking all the classes on-line for a Masters in military history. Amazing.
Christmas will find us with our family
enjoying each other’s company and opening presents.
New Years we will host our annual open house for those with nothing better to do.
We do have fun and lots of food and drink.
New Years we will host our annual open house for those with nothing better to do.
We do have fun and lots of food and drink.
Shrimp and Champagne at midnight.
Let us know if you are coming.
Hope all have had a joyous year and are in good health.
Hope to hear from you all.
Joyous Christmas,
Joyous Christmas,
Happy New Year,
Tom & Sue
ODE TO A 1993 TEMPO
On the last day of Winter semester in 2005, Vicky, and another student met violently in the parking lot at school. Luckily they were both in their automobiles. Anyway, Vicky's right front bumper was crushed. We did not know if the insurance company would cover the deductible or not, as it was not immediately apparent who's fault the accident was. However, it was plain that if the deductible was waved, the cost of repairs would be more then the Tempo was worth, therefore the car would be totaled out by the insurance company. While waiting for a determination, Vicky wrote this about the Tempo.
Preface: The fate of the Tempo hangs in the balance. Will she be totaled? Or will she run free? Will the man take her over, crush and compact her? No, I say! No! We have shared too much together. In these desperate hours, while I wait for the insurance company of doom to make the decision of a lifetime, I would like to leave a little something for posterity. I call it,
Ford Tempo, year 1993, how much do you mean to me?
your pick-up nonexistent, your problems most persistent.
Cruise control and automatic locks used to make you quite a fox,
but without them now you're just 4 wheels and a box.
Rotted weather stripping lets in the rain,
repairs attempted always in vain.
Remember when that girl crashed into your side?
Now no bumper graces your hide.
Yet even if some say you're no longer a thrill,
I still fall for your steamy grill.
You get me to work and to play,most of the time with no delay.
So Ford Tempo, year 1993, how much DO you mean to me?
The answer is this: you've made driving a total bliss.
Please, don't let those insurance demons take you away!
I long to drive you for forever and a day!
But dear Tempo, even if your grip on life fails to hold,
I will always love you, even when your engine grows cold.
As it turns out, in case you are interested, no fault could be determined so the deductible was not waved. The Tempo still runs, though still with a damaged front end. Vicky however, was not quite as attached to her Tempo as she expressed. She was happy to start driving her mom's 2003 red Focus, when Mom got a new PT Cruiser at Thanksgiving.
So, here is Vicky's new ride. I wonder if she will wax poetic about the Focus?
Preface: The fate of the Tempo hangs in the balance. Will she be totaled? Or will she run free? Will the man take her over, crush and compact her? No, I say! No! We have shared too much together. In these desperate hours, while I wait for the insurance company of doom to make the decision of a lifetime, I would like to leave a little something for posterity. I call it,
"Ode to the Ford".
Ford Tempo, year 1993, how much do you mean to me?
your pick-up nonexistent, your problems most persistent.
Cruise control and automatic locks used to make you quite a fox,
but without them now you're just 4 wheels and a box.
Rotted weather stripping lets in the rain,
repairs attempted always in vain.
Remember when that girl crashed into your side?
Now no bumper graces your hide.
Yet even if some say you're no longer a thrill,
I still fall for your steamy grill.
You get me to work and to play,most of the time with no delay.
So Ford Tempo, year 1993, how much DO you mean to me?
The answer is this: you've made driving a total bliss.
Please, don't let those insurance demons take you away!
I long to drive you for forever and a day!
But dear Tempo, even if your grip on life fails to hold,
I will always love you, even when your engine grows cold.
As it turns out, in case you are interested, no fault could be determined so the deductible was not waved. The Tempo still runs, though still with a damaged front end. Vicky however, was not quite as attached to her Tempo as she expressed. She was happy to start driving her mom's 2003 red Focus, when Mom got a new PT Cruiser at Thanksgiving.
So, here is Vicky's new ride. I wonder if she will wax poetic about the Focus?
SAMANTHA TO BE A BIG SISTER
Samantha the future Big Sister
"Thank you God for all the wonderfull food we are about to eat, and for our family, thank you for the good year we have had and thank you Heather is pregnant, and Samantha is going to be a big sister."
Knowing my son's propensity to goof around, I interrupted his Thanksgiving prayer and said, " Heather are you really pregnant?"
"Yes," she replies.
"Yeah!" I exclaim. "Yes, thank God, Amen!"
And thus, our little Thanksgiving Day gathering around Jerry's dining room table, was informed that our wonderful, beautiful, smart, loving, daughter-in-law/sister-in-law had our second grandchild residing in her tummy.
I pray that in about eight months, Heather and Joe will have a whole and healthy baby, whom we will all adore, whether a girl or a boy, but I, who have nothing to do with it and no say in the matter, want a boy. :-)
"Thank you God for all the wonderfull food we are about to eat, and for our family, thank you for the good year we have had and thank you Heather is pregnant, and Samantha is going to be a big sister."
Knowing my son's propensity to goof around, I interrupted his Thanksgiving prayer and said, " Heather are you really pregnant?"
"Yes," she replies.
"Yeah!" I exclaim. "Yes, thank God, Amen!"
And thus, our little Thanksgiving Day gathering around Jerry's dining room table, was informed that our wonderful, beautiful, smart, loving, daughter-in-law/sister-in-law had our second grandchild residing in her tummy.
I pray that in about eight months, Heather and Joe will have a whole and healthy baby, whom we will all adore, whether a girl or a boy, but I, who have nothing to do with it and no say in the matter, want a boy. :-)
JOE VENTURES OUT OF TOWN
I laughed myself silly. What do you think?Howz my Drivin'?
The roads are slick with rain, the fog sticks around 'til quarter past ten and its damn chilly out. November has hit like a damp sponge, and it's just plain miserable.
Already in a foul mood, I use my rear-view mirror to fume in sullen silence at the tailgating Dodge Neon behind me. I pretend he sees me looking at him and that it makes him feel uncomfortable. Then I accidentally pretend that, after having seen me looking at him, he instead mocks me with a crooked grin.
Damn him! What an ass he turns out to be in my imagination.
It was at about that moment that I drove up behind a bus which was slowing down to pick up passengers. I check my side view mirror and my blind spot for cars in the next lane over. Seeing none, I activate my impending-lane-change warning beacon (in other countries this is known as a "turn-signal", but not in the civilized bastion of my head) and begin to move around the bus.
Remember the tailgater that mocked me in my head? Well, back in the real-world he saw that I was about to change lanes, thought that seemed a fine idea, and proceeded to whip around me without warning, almost causing me to collide with him and/or the bus. Frickin' jerk!
I fume unproductively at the ass end of the stinky city bus, as traffic now pins me in place like the steel Ford tail-on-the-donkey that I am.
Traffic moved oddly and it was only a minute or two later that I caught up with the Neon as he weaved through traffic in a mad, futile effort to gain just one more car length further upstream. I noticed one of those "How's My Driving? Call 1-800-xxx-xxxx" bumper stickers.
I've seen these all my life, although I'd never called one until that day. I dialed my cell phone with an angry finger.
The friendly vehicle safety officer at the Whatsit Corporation, a lady named Emily, took from me the license number of the Neon as well as a description of current road conditions and then asked me what the Neon had done to merit my report.
"Yes, the driver was tailgating me, and," I began, only to be interrupted by Emily.
"He was tailgating you? For approximately how long?"
"Oh, at least a minute. But that isn't all."
"Right," I could sense her head nodding over the phone, "So he was tailgating you for about a minute. What else?"
"Well, then he changed lanes and cut me off from MY lane change," sounded confusing, so I rushed on, "see, I had already turned my signal on, and he decided to change lanes first, and accelerated to block my lane change. A pre-emptive lane change, see?"
"Uh, maybe.."
"It's very simple. He wanted to keep me in my lane."
"..keep you in..."
I was losing her. Fast, man, think! "That's not all! He made me look at religious literature!" There was a moment of shocked silence.
"What?" she finally demanded.
"Just what I said! I swear, he flipped me off, paced my car and held up a 'Jehovah's Plan' pamphlet. Pushed it right up to his passenger window so I would be FORCED to read it!"
A short pause and then, "why would he do that, sir?"
"How the hell should I know?!? And then, to make matters worse, he rolled down his window, shouted something about how I should stop wasting my life, and flung a copy of Dianetics at my car!"
"But-"
"I know, that doesn't even qualify as a religion! But THAT'S the kind of jerk you people let drive your precious Chrysler vehicles." I figured that would get her attention. Get her mind on the valuable company car and I was sure she'd see things my way.
"OK, OK, let me get this down. The driver displayed a religious booklet-"
"brazenly displayed a booklet," I corrected.
"...brazenly displayed a booklet. Of a religious nature?"
"It was called 'Jehovah's Plan.' I think its from the Jehovah's Witnesses," I was startled to a sudden conclusion, "You know, it might be about the Jehovah's Witness Protection Plan!"
"But then he threw a book at your car from out of an open window?"
"Yeah. I was waving him off, trying to pantomime that I already accepted Jesus as my personal savior and personal trainer when he decided I'd be better off with L. Ron Hubbard's gang. At least, that's what I'm assuming since it was Dianetics he bombarded me with."
"...Bombarded you with Dianetics. Did your car receive any damage from this?"
"Except for the expensive Scientology classes its been begging for since then, I don't really think so. But I just can't afford to get rid of his damn Thetans."
"We're talking about your car?"
"NO! We're talking about your damn driver! You want to know the worst thing he did?"
"Uh, sure." She sounded none too certain, but I pushed on.
"Using a complicated series of hand-held, painted fans, he proceeded to tell the drivers of all the cars around us that I was a foreign national named Sean-Luc Mac VanWiederson and had counterfeit DVD's of Mariah Carey's 'Glitter' and J Lo's 'Gigli' in my trunk for sale at $3 a pop! He nearly caused a riot, and if it weren't for the distraction I caused by tossing that copy of Dianetics through the windshield of the bus I probably wouldn't be alive today."
"Sir, you expect me to believe that he used fans to tell people your name was Sean-Luc Mac VanWiederson? How?" Emily seemed so incredulous!
"With words painted onto the fans, of course. I figure he must have had them prepared for just such an occasion; he seemed to have them on hand and ready to go."
"Right. Is there anything else, sir?" "Don't forget about 'Gigli' and 'Glitter'!"
"Got that. 'Gigli' and 'Glitter'. Anything else?" she asked somewhat desperately.
"No. That'll be it. You've been most helpful. Would you like me to send you a copy of 'Glitter' or 'Gigli'? I got lots."
"But--" she asked me almost against her will, "didn't you say that our driver just told people you had-"
"Funny thing, that. He was dead on! Only, my last name is MacVanWeidermaker. Character assassin! That's what you have working for you!"
"Well, ok...if that's all..."
"It most certainly is. Thanks so much Emily, you've been very understanding, and I hope that jerk loses his job over this." The conversation drew to a close shortly thereafter, and I can only assume my unknown antagonist has been sacked. Let that teach him to mess with SafeTinspector.
MORE MEANINGLESS E-MAIL TITLES
Ok, Did someone put out the word that I enjoy strange e-mail subject lines and senders? After my first posting regarding this phenom, I have gotten twice as many. Here follows is the current batch. Needless to say, I know none of the senders. Only one name is at all familiar. I have always enjoyed Orval Redenbacher popcorn, and I used to live in Napierville, Ill, which was named after the Napier family that owned a lumber mill. In the late 50's, Mr. Napier sold some farmland he had for a housing development, with the stipulation that 90% of each home be made of wood. Neat Ah?. Well that sleepy little town went from 1200 population in 1950 to 12000 population in 1960 and is now a town of many thousand, but I digress. I hope you enjoy these offerings from my e-mail.
SENDER.................. SUBJECT............... DATE SENT/SIZE
Ginger Donnelly.... FW: independent not fantasia ...Sun 10/30 23k
Efren Farrell.......... bedevil hairdo.............................. Sun 10/30 36k
Keld Israel.............. Re: Scotts good news................. Mon 10/31 4k
Ray Galvan.... hamster, divisible be homecome it.. Tue 11/01 17k
Edgardo Hyde.......... nourish be rapid or horizon..... Wed 11/02 11k
Marquis Thomson.... dilatoryq................................. Wed 11/02 31k
Queen Whittaker...... FW: Also mutate as acreage..... Sun 11/06 31k
Orval Napier.............. Movie Camera Hookup............. Wed 11/09 5k
Let's have a contest. Who can decipher what these subject lines are suppose to be? The only two that made any sense were "Re: Scotts good news" and "Movie Camera Hookup" but even then there are problems. Does the writer mean a fellow named Scott or are they referring to the people who inhabit Scotland, or the toilet paper company? Also, I do not own a movie camera, and why would all three of the words in that subject line be capitalized? Do they want to teach how to hookup a movie camera or do they offer a date with a movie camera? Let me know what you think any or all of these subject lines mean. There may be prizes.
SENDER.................. SUBJECT............... DATE SENT/SIZE
Ginger Donnelly.... FW: independent not fantasia ...Sun 10/30 23k
Efren Farrell.......... bedevil hairdo.............................. Sun 10/30 36k
Keld Israel.............. Re: Scotts good news................. Mon 10/31 4k
Ray Galvan.... hamster, divisible be homecome it.. Tue 11/01 17k
Edgardo Hyde.......... nourish be rapid or horizon..... Wed 11/02 11k
Marquis Thomson.... dilatoryq................................. Wed 11/02 31k
Queen Whittaker...... FW: Also mutate as acreage..... Sun 11/06 31k
Orval Napier.............. Movie Camera Hookup............. Wed 11/09 5k
Let's have a contest. Who can decipher what these subject lines are suppose to be? The only two that made any sense were "Re: Scotts good news" and "Movie Camera Hookup" but even then there are problems. Does the writer mean a fellow named Scott or are they referring to the people who inhabit Scotland, or the toilet paper company? Also, I do not own a movie camera, and why would all three of the words in that subject line be capitalized? Do they want to teach how to hookup a movie camera or do they offer a date with a movie camera? Let me know what you think any or all of these subject lines mean. There may be prizes.
JUST HAD TO SHARE
Getting more strangely titled e-mail. In today's batch there was an e-mail from Lydia Lockhart which tried to entice me to open by saying in the subject line: "venous , thrill the caracas it platonist in". I kid you not, to borrow a phrase from Jack Paar. Another one came from Khajag Hutchinson ( Just what kind of name is that?Almost as good as those given the Zappa siblings, Moon Unit and Dweezil ) boldly stated: "Re: Antony Schoepp Extra chance" And just who is Antony Schoepp? Never heard of him, but should I be interested in giving him a second chance? I was never informed that he had any chances. A chance for what? And finally an e-mail from the appropriately named Bennett Crum stating: "downbeat see dung may valid " What a crummy thing to say in an e-mail. However, the best was the e-mail I got from no one who's subject line just simply said "[none]". That one got immediately deleted. I am still contemplating the others. Their subject lines and sender names tickle me. May leave them sitting on my list for a few days, just to enjoy the chuckle when I check my e-mail.
IS THIS NECESSARY?
Every time there is a hurricane, all the TV networks send reporters out into the wind and rain to report on the hurricane. What's the point? Do they think it makes the report more exciting to see the weatherman in danger of being blown away? At least usually they give the young ones the assignment of standing there like an idiot, trying their best to stand up to the wind, while dodging flying debris, but when I saw Al Rooker being held down by one of his camera men hanging on to his leg. I thought, doesn't this more than middle-aged man know better? He has told us his father made him promise to do something about his weight because he was concerned that Al would die early, but I wonder what his father would think if he saw him standing there like the other young idiots in that wind and rain.
Then as if to emphasize my thoughts, Al tried to get back to his room, and fell over as soon as the cameraman let go of his leg. Luckily he is all right. Seeing Al Rooker fall down from his own idiocy, was almost as funny as the female reporter in a canoe, who looked as though she was paddling her way down a terribly flooded street, that is until two fellows in waders walked by carrying their groceries, showing the street had only about a foot of water. At least the poor reporter came up with a good come back when Matt asked her about this. She said: "Why walk when you can ride?"
I think we all could see how strong the storm is with the feed from an unmanned camera, with the actually report being made by a reporter safe and dry inside. I wonder, if one day, one of these hapless reporters actually blew away, or got flattened by flying debris, would they show it on TV? Would that kind of occurrence make a more interesting weather story? Would it get higher ratings?
Then as if to emphasize my thoughts, Al tried to get back to his room, and fell over as soon as the cameraman let go of his leg. Luckily he is all right. Seeing Al Rooker fall down from his own idiocy, was almost as funny as the female reporter in a canoe, who looked as though she was paddling her way down a terribly flooded street, that is until two fellows in waders walked by carrying their groceries, showing the street had only about a foot of water. At least the poor reporter came up with a good come back when Matt asked her about this. She said: "Why walk when you can ride?"
I think we all could see how strong the storm is with the feed from an unmanned camera, with the actually report being made by a reporter safe and dry inside. I wonder, if one day, one of these hapless reporters actually blew away, or got flattened by flying debris, would they show it on TV? Would that kind of occurrence make a more interesting weather story? Would it get higher ratings?
SEEKING BRADLEY CHUBBY. ARE YOU BRADLEY CHUBBY? REWARD OFFERED FOR PROOF OF EXISTANCE OF BRADLEY CHUBBY.
" This might make you some money bradley chubby "
Just who is Bradley Chubby? Or did they mean badly chubby? I do not know whether to be amused or insulted. This sentence was the subject line of a recent e-mail. It was spam of course. At least this one wanted me to invest in some stocks, instead of purchasing Viagra. Oh I got one of those spams too today. It said in the subject line “regarding your account” so I opened it. Not only did it want to sell me some kind of penil enhancement drug, but also it seemed to promise a 12-inch erection. Actually I am not exactly sure what this e-mail promised me, because as soon as I saw the words ’12 inch erection’ I knew this e-mail was not about any account I ever had. I immediately reported it as spam and deleted it. I think if they are going to send spam mail from overseas, they ought to at least employ a person whose native language is English to compose and proof read in English. On the other hand, though, maybe not--spam mail would not be as easy to spot or as amusing.
Just who is Bradley Chubby? Or did they mean badly chubby? I do not know whether to be amused or insulted. This sentence was the subject line of a recent e-mail. It was spam of course. At least this one wanted me to invest in some stocks, instead of purchasing Viagra. Oh I got one of those spams too today. It said in the subject line “regarding your account” so I opened it. Not only did it want to sell me some kind of penil enhancement drug, but also it seemed to promise a 12-inch erection. Actually I am not exactly sure what this e-mail promised me, because as soon as I saw the words ’12 inch erection’ I knew this e-mail was not about any account I ever had. I immediately reported it as spam and deleted it. I think if they are going to send spam mail from overseas, they ought to at least employ a person whose native language is English to compose and proof read in English. On the other hand, though, maybe not--spam mail would not be as easy to spot or as amusing.
MISSED OPPORTUNITY
On Aug 25 th, Reuion.com sent me an e-mail. They send me e-mail about every two weeks or so, I signed up at their website sometime before I retired in 2002, but never renewed my subscription. I generally delete their e-mails without opening them, as I know from experience, they are trying to get me to renew my subscription. But this time, the subject line said:
SUSAN, Reply Free to Your Message from Mary Ellen Niemeyer/Parker (Woods).
As I am planning to attend my 40th high school reunion next week, I thought, I might as well check this message out. I looked in my yearbook and found Mary Ellen Woods. I did not quite remember her, but was flattered she remembered me. So I went to the web site and found an e-mail from 2002 witch said;
Hi Sue,
It has been such a long, long, time since we talked, and I know we did...but of course at this age our memories are a bit dull.Don't have a yearbook, but didn't you have brown curly hair and a little bigger than some of the girls? I was tiny but now twice that size due to illness and crippling.I think you stole my radio in the john, now do you remember me? haha (forgiven, if it has bothered you, we all did weird stuff then)
I married my highschool sweetheart, Earl, but divorced over 10 yrs ago. I have two children in their 30's and did like you , spread out my family....my baby is now 21. I have two granddaughters from Dawn, my highshcool lovechild, and two adopted grandkids from Eric, (he arrived 11 monthes after Dawn). I was still such a baby when I had those two. Travis arrived 14 yrs later and was the toughest to raise, the one that worried me the most I think. He just married this year and moved to Kansas City about a month ago.
Do you have a website?
Here's mine:
http://www.geocities.com/umpysite/
I was not the one Mary Ellen remembered, I did not steal her radio, as I had my own ‘transistor’ radio. We who could afford them carried them in our purses for use at lunchtime or walking home from school, and I did not have curly hair and was not overly large in high school, but I decided to contact Mary Ellen anyway. She sounded like a neat person. She, like me had been married twice, had a number of children, and had some of the same interests as I, even apparently expanded weight like myself. Besides perhaps she was coming to the reunion. It would not hurt to renew an old friendship before the party. Someone to look forward to seeing, for sure.
Although I did leave a reply to her 2002 e-mail at Reunion.com, I reasoned that she might not have the same e-mail address as had been connected to that 2002 e-mail, so as she said she had a web site, I started there. I was impressed with her skill and creativity on her website and felt even more that I would like to get in touch with Mary Ellen Through links and Googling I found several e-mail addresses for Mary Ellen. I sent a short e-mail to each, but each came back as a failure to deliver.
Still searching around for a more recent e-mail address, I found myself at the guest book for Mary Ellen’s website. The last entry was in Feb 2005. It was from her sister, Cathy. She said she had just visited Mary Ellen’s website, because she missed her so much.
I then Googled for Mary Ellen’s obituary and found it.
Mary Ellen Woods Niemeyer Parker, 56, of Harrison, Ark., died Sunday, Aug. 29, 2004, at her home. Just a few days shy of a year before Reunion.com sent her 2002 e-mail to me.
I am sorry Mary Ellen, that I did not find your e-mail to me sooner. I would have liked to have known you again. I am sorry I missed the opportunity. Goodbye.
WHO WOULDN'T LOVE THIS DOG?
"Nobody likes that dog. That dog is certainly not coming to my house. No one else wants her at his or her house either. Put her in a kennel. Take her with you to St. Louis." I cried. I had to get out of there before I said something really bad. I did not know why I cried, and why I had to leave. Even to me it seemed silly, at first. Over reaction in the extreme! Then I realized, Daxie has become a 6th child for me, and I suspect my husband too, only he was not with me to defend Daxie. I was as hurt to hear those awful things said about our dog, as I would have been if they were said about one of our children.
I always thought it was somehow strange and a little sad to come across a person, generally an older person, who seems overly attached to their animal, treating it like a child, taking it everywhere, and perhaps even putting cutesy cloths on it. But here I was, extremely offended that they did not like and refused to temporarily care for my 'child', Daxie.
All our children except one are long gone from the nest, and the one left is only home part time, being a college student. Daxie,a very small beagle, who has been in our family for over 9 years, is slowly becoming a substitute child for all those who have flown the coop. I even find myself referring to my husband and I as Mama and Daddy to Daxie when we are alone in our house. The dog sleeps with us, and my husband and I regularly exchange stories of the cute things our 'dog-child' has done, just like we used to about our human children when they were at home. Does this behavior make us old or just a little deranged?
In any case, a pox upon those who do not love Daxie as do we. Put Daxie in a kennel? How dare you suggest that? Daxie has never been left in a kennel, why she won't even go for a walk if she smells a dog that has been by our house too recently for her liking. And if either my husband or I raise our voices, even in joy, Daxie hides, until we tell her it is Ok. Daxie, we think, must have been the runt of the litter, and as such defers to all others in the world. Going on the trip with us would also not work. She just would not do well on a long trip. Every place would be strange to her and full of smells of frightening things. She would probably spend the entire trip with her tail between her legs and hiding as often as possible.
Well, I know there is one person, who was absent from this loathsome gathering where our 'child' was attacked, who loves Daxie. She will take care of Daxie while we are away. But just why would anyone not love Daxie?
THIS PICTURE SHOULD BE IN A CONTEST
Joe's Samantha and our Victoria. Niece and Aunt. How nice! xoxox
SPAM BLOG COMMENTS?
Well, I guess there are now enough bloggers that spamers have come crawling out of their holes to try to prey on us. After posting my daughter and granddaughter's gorgeous picture, I got a comment. The comment started, "I like your blog it is very creative." I smiled, proudly, until, I finished reading the comment. It went on to say I could make money selling scooters and invited me to find out how at a certain web site. Blah!!
Luckily, I found there is a sort of off button on my blog settings. From now on, if you want to leave comments for me, you will have to copy one of those wavy word pictures. I know it is somewhat inconvenient, and I am sorry about that, but just when I was trying to decide if it was worth restricting comments this way, I found I had just then gotten two more advertising comment spams on my daughter and granddaughter's gorgeous picture.
So, I deleted the offending comments and changed the setting to word verification for your comments.
I SAW THIS ON ANOTHER BLOG, SOUNDED FAMILIAR
any ideas
ok so my sister is 16 years old. and i dunno whats wrong with her but she is like electronics dumb or something. shes been through like 6 cell phones, and three cameras. the first camera she dropped and broke. the second camera she lost and the third got stolen. so she moped around and bitched about it and her dad gave her a camera on loan. now when he gave her the camera he told her DO NOT lose or drop this one. or you will be grounded for life and no more cameras or something like that. she had it three days.......
knocked it off the table on accident and broke it.
ok so my sister is 16 years old. and i dunno whats wrong with her but she is like electronics dumb or something. shes been through like 6 cell phones, and three cameras. the first camera she dropped and broke. the second camera she lost and the third got stolen. so she moped around and bitched about it and her dad gave her a camera on loan. now when he gave her the camera he told her DO NOT lose or drop this one. or you will be grounded for life and no more cameras or something like that. she had it three days.......
knocked it off the table on accident and broke it.
JUST WHO DO THEY THINK THEY'RE FOOLING
I would just like to know why the closer one gets to a poor section of town, the less it costs for a gallon of gas? And conversely, the closer you get to an affluent part of town the more the gas costs. When the gas prices started to increase by leaps and bounds, I of course started to pay more attention to the gas prices listed on the signs looming over the gas stations I passed.
I found that as I traveled toward Detroit from my home just off 20 Mile Rd, in the main, the gas prices on the signs gradually went down. Sometimes the difference between 20 Mile Rd and Eight Mile was as much as 20 cents. Ttried to figure out a legitimate reason for the discrepancies. Never wanting to think the worse of my fellow man, I almost had myself convinced that it just cost the gas supplier more to truck the gas out to 20 Mile Rd then to Eight Mile.
Then I went to Troy to see my doctor. He is just off Big Beaver, or as we call it on this side of town, 16 Mile Rd. This time I was traveling parallel to Detroit from East to West. From Middle Class to Upper Crust. Guess what? The closer I got to my doctors office the higher the gas price on the gas station signs. Coming back I checked again. Sure enough the closer we got to Lake St. Clair, the lower the price of a gallon of gas.
I guess you might say that is pure capitalism at work. Charge what the market will bare. But I think there should be some modecum of fairness. I just do not see why gas station owners feel the need to raise prices just because the price of a barrel of oil goes up. If they have not had a new delivery of gas, the gas in those tanks under the station cost the station owner no more today then when they were last filled. I can see raising your prices when you have to pay more for the gas you put in your underground tanks, but personally, I think it is gouging to raise the price of a gallon of gas just because the price of a barrell of gas goes up. After all, it will be some time before that costlier fuel comes to your gas station.
I saw an example of that just yesterday. The BP gas station at Hoover and 13 Mile was charging $2.69/ gallon of regular gas at 12:30 PM, but when I passed it next at 6:00 PM, after the commodities market had closed with a record high price for a barrell of oil, I saw a gas station worker changing the price to $2.85/gallon for regular. And as I continued to travel home, I saw most of the gas stations I had passed earlier in the day, now with prices 20 or more cents higher than when I passed them earlier.
Now I do not know about the gas station at 13 Mile and Hoover, but I seriously doubt that all of those gas stations received a new supply of gas between the time I left my home this morning and the time I went home.
Can you make bathtub gasohol? I sure would like to try.
I found that as I traveled toward Detroit from my home just off 20 Mile Rd, in the main, the gas prices on the signs gradually went down. Sometimes the difference between 20 Mile Rd and Eight Mile was as much as 20 cents. Ttried to figure out a legitimate reason for the discrepancies. Never wanting to think the worse of my fellow man, I almost had myself convinced that it just cost the gas supplier more to truck the gas out to 20 Mile Rd then to Eight Mile.
Then I went to Troy to see my doctor. He is just off Big Beaver, or as we call it on this side of town, 16 Mile Rd. This time I was traveling parallel to Detroit from East to West. From Middle Class to Upper Crust. Guess what? The closer I got to my doctors office the higher the gas price on the gas station signs. Coming back I checked again. Sure enough the closer we got to Lake St. Clair, the lower the price of a gallon of gas.
I guess you might say that is pure capitalism at work. Charge what the market will bare. But I think there should be some modecum of fairness. I just do not see why gas station owners feel the need to raise prices just because the price of a barrel of oil goes up. If they have not had a new delivery of gas, the gas in those tanks under the station cost the station owner no more today then when they were last filled. I can see raising your prices when you have to pay more for the gas you put in your underground tanks, but personally, I think it is gouging to raise the price of a gallon of gas just because the price of a barrell of gas goes up. After all, it will be some time before that costlier fuel comes to your gas station.
I saw an example of that just yesterday. The BP gas station at Hoover and 13 Mile was charging $2.69/ gallon of regular gas at 12:30 PM, but when I passed it next at 6:00 PM, after the commodities market had closed with a record high price for a barrell of oil, I saw a gas station worker changing the price to $2.85/gallon for regular. And as I continued to travel home, I saw most of the gas stations I had passed earlier in the day, now with prices 20 or more cents higher than when I passed them earlier.
Now I do not know about the gas station at 13 Mile and Hoover, but I seriously doubt that all of those gas stations received a new supply of gas between the time I left my home this morning and the time I went home.
Can you make bathtub gasohol? I sure would like to try.
LOGO FOR EBAY
I found I can add a Logo to the email sent to buyers at the end of auctions so here it is. Maybe this will make up for the scolding e-mail I got from the eBay folks the other day. Some time ago, I became "Verified by PayPal" and was offered a Logo that would show this status on my auctions. All I had to do was copy some computer language (HTML) onto the end of the HTML for each auction. I did, and a nice sun shaped seal appeared with PayPal Verified written in the center at the end of the description of my auction items. It looked nice and I like PayPal, so might as well advertise PayPal and my Verified status.
Well the aforementioned e-mail from eBay ( which owns PayPal, in case you did not know) accused me of violating their logo rule. Even threatening me with possible banishment from eBay for my transgression. It seems that logos on auctions cannot be over 110 pixels by 90 pixels, and the PayPal logo was larger. Sure enough when I checked, the PayPal logo was 100 pixels by 100 pixels.
I find it really strange, don't you, that PayPal would offer a logo for display on eBay that exceeded the maximum allowed space on eBay. (Of course it could be a diabolical test to see if e-bay members know the rules. ---Not likely) Furthermore, as the logo was actually a square containing this seal, when I shrank it down to 90 pixels by 90 pixels, the words were not legible.
Doesn't the right hand know what the left hand is doing? This scolding e-mail did further inform me that eBay had checked with PayPal and sure enough they agreed that the PayPal logo appearing on my auction was too large. LOL
So, I did the only prudent thing. I took the seal off all my auctions and informed my accuser that I just would no longer display a PayPal logo on my auctions. I did suggest that they inform the geeks at PayPal to redesign their logo to conform with eBay rules and be legible when it does. Do you think that will happen?
Do you like my logo?
WELL I JOINED A WEBRING
Not sure if I will like being a member of a Webring, but will give it a go. So far I have read the musings of an obviously slightly left lady who wants 6 weeks off in the summer like Bush, and a Canadian who described in detail her sighting of a coyote, and passed on a Blog that announced the writer was a bisexual transgender male.
Who's trucks are these?Early Friday morning, 4:00 AM to be exact, we all got up to take Vicky to Metro Airport to catch a plane to Florida to see Leeta, her big sister. Both on the way to the airport and on the way back, we saw a heck of a lot of trucks on I-94. Most of the trucks proudly proclaimed their owners; Kroger's, Beacon Movers, Ford Motor Co, etc., but many were absolutely unidentified. I have noted this during many trips in recent years. Big white semi-trailer trucks, not a word, not a number, not a picture anywhere on the trailers or the trucks, the only identification showing at all being the license plate, if that isn't covered in dirt. I find them troubling, especially with terrorist attacks a real possibility in today's world. What are they carrying? Where are they going? Where did they come from? Who owns them? Even if these are leased or rented trucks, why wouldn't the owner want to at least have a discreet sign saying something like, 'Bob's Big Truck and Trailer Rental' somewhere on the trailer and truck? And if one of these semi-trailer trucks is ever stolen, what description do you give to the authorities? 'Ah--- its white, and it's big'. If the thief changes license plates, I would think, you might never see your truck again. I think there should be a law requiring some kind of identification on commercial vehicles. I am sure no one ever would have thought there would need to be such a requirement, as in the past, owners were only happy to advertise themselves on the sides of their trucks, which is why I find these totally blank trucks puzzling and ominous.
JUMBO HAMBURGERS AND OTHER OVERSIZED FOODSTUFFS
There ought to be a law! Have you noticed that just when you and your significant other get settled in front of the TV for an evenings viewing, (That is from 8:00 PM to 11:00 PM) they start with the fast food advertisements? No one without a supercharged metabolism should have to view these advertisements. The close-ups of hamburgers, chicken wings, fruit pies, and other foods are designed and do succeed in making us both hungry. Never mind we just finished a full dinner. Never mind we are both way overweight. Never mind that neither of us is going to leave our cozy home to buy the proffered foodstuffs. We, having seen a 35-inch wide hamburger are hungry. And of course, we end up eating something. Not the hamburger, but whatever is fast in our own kitchen. Chips, cookies, ice cream, leftovers, even nuts soon pass our lips to become our newest layer of fat. It should be against the law to advertise food on TV after 8:00 PM. Toothpaste commercials, cloths washing detergent, under arm deodorant, even a vacation at Disney World ad is welcome, just stop with the food ads after 8:00 PM. Well that’s all I have to say about the matter.
OK, WHERE ARE THE COMMENTS?
You know, I am getting discouraged. I know there are folks who have looked at this Blog, cause they tell me so, but except for one lost young fellow who was looking for articles on Red Hat computer language, not the Red Hat Society, I have had no comments recorded. Even my son, who now has started his own Blog, I know has looked at my Blog, but has not left a comment. Joe, who has a lot to say about everything and anything, sometimes until one just, wants to yell “SHUT UP” (though not frequently, I love to hear him talk, he is soooo smart, and composes and plays wonderful music on the piano as well. :-) apparently has nothing to say. Come on, someone say something!! Please.
IT’S FOR SALE
Well, we finally listed our old house for sale. Century 21 got our listing. You can see our house on Flo Abke’s web site. Flo thinks it will be hard to sell our house, because it is a buyers market right now, but I hope not. We have put a lot of money time and effort in the house over the years.
For those of you who have not seen our house and who might be interested in moving to Eastpointe, Michigan, here are some of the features of the house.
Two story brick colonial on large tree filled corner lot.
Newer tear down roof, gutters, downspouts. Modern storm windows throughout.
Newer forced air furnace and whole house air
2300+ sq ft above ground living space
400 square foot-finished rec room with sink in basement
Basement Laundry room has both gas and electric dryers
New washer and two dryers stay
Storage room with cedar closet in basement.
Another small room in basement could be used for storage or office.
Built in workbench and storage by furnace.
4 bedrooms all with walk in closets
2 full baths, one with jetted tub and separate shower- with offset bathroom exhaust fan in both baths
2 half baths (one on first floor, one in basement)
Eat in kitchen with built in ovens, stovetop, exhaust fan and dishwasher, garbage disposal, and water filter faucet.
Fireplace in large living room.
Library alcove
Formal dining room
Three season Florida room
Large deck out from sliding glass door in Florida room.
2-½-car garage with storage room attached.
Fenced in back yard with tree swing, bird feeder and fruit trees.
Our home was built by the first doctor to practice in Eastpointe, and has a lot of the extras available in 1937. Cove moldings, wide windowsills, some made of marble, plaster walls of course, etc. The doctor sold the home in 1960 to a family with 7 children, who were all teenagers or older when they sold the house in about 1980 to a small family with only two children. They were transfered out east before they had a chance to fill up the house with children. We bought the house in 1983 and eventually raised four children. With all the children grown and all but one gone, it is now time for us to move on. We have enjoyed living in this home and raising our family, now it is someone elses turn. Will it be you?
For those of you who have not seen our house and who might be interested in moving to Eastpointe, Michigan, here are some of the features of the house.
Two story brick colonial on large tree filled corner lot.
Newer tear down roof, gutters, downspouts. Modern storm windows throughout.
Newer forced air furnace and whole house air
2300+ sq ft above ground living space
400 square foot-finished rec room with sink in basement
Basement Laundry room has both gas and electric dryers
New washer and two dryers stay
Storage room with cedar closet in basement.
Another small room in basement could be used for storage or office.
Built in workbench and storage by furnace.
4 bedrooms all with walk in closets
2 full baths, one with jetted tub and separate shower- with offset bathroom exhaust fan in both baths
2 half baths (one on first floor, one in basement)
Eat in kitchen with built in ovens, stovetop, exhaust fan and dishwasher, garbage disposal, and water filter faucet.
Fireplace in large living room.
Library alcove
Formal dining room
Three season Florida room
Large deck out from sliding glass door in Florida room.
2-½-car garage with storage room attached.
Fenced in back yard with tree swing, bird feeder and fruit trees.
Our home was built by the first doctor to practice in Eastpointe, and has a lot of the extras available in 1937. Cove moldings, wide windowsills, some made of marble, plaster walls of course, etc. The doctor sold the home in 1960 to a family with 7 children, who were all teenagers or older when they sold the house in about 1980 to a small family with only two children. They were transfered out east before they had a chance to fill up the house with children. We bought the house in 1983 and eventually raised four children. With all the children grown and all but one gone, it is now time for us to move on. We have enjoyed living in this home and raising our family, now it is someone elses turn. Will it be you?
FUZZY WUZZY WAS A BEAR AND OTHER MATTERS
I never see a goose without thinking of my dad. My dad was born in 1914. The house he grew up in did not have an indoor toilet. He told me that when he was little, it always was an adventure getting to the outhouse. His father and mother kept a goose for the eggs. The goose apparently thought it was her job to protect the outhouse. Dad would have to out run the goose to the outhouse. If he were not fast enough, she would grab him by the seat of the pants with her beak. He said when that would happen he could not go anywhere. The mental picture of my dad, a small lad of 4 trying to run while being held back by a goose that had his behind firmly held in her beak, always made me laugh. Dad had good stories of his childhood.
Besides telling me stories of his childhood, my dad would patiently read to me my favorite nursery rhymes and stories night after night at bedtime. My two favorite nursery rhymes when I was little were:
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t fuzzy was he?
And:
I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one
But I can tell you anyhow
I’d rather see one then be one.
I guess even as a little girl, I was a sucker for the physically handicapped and mentally ill. No wonder I became a Social Worker. Later as a mother, I was ecstatic to find a stuffed bear that had a fur coat that unzipped and came off like a union suit. He had red-stripped underwear underneath. My little girl at first did not know why I insisted he be called Fuzzy Wuzzy. But I was glad to tell her the poem and also glad someone had, from my point of view, been able to solve Fuzzy Wuzzy’s no hair problem, and very neatly too. Never did find a purple cow, but that is why I am a Social Worker and not a mental patient.
Besides telling me stories of his childhood, my dad would patiently read to me my favorite nursery rhymes and stories night after night at bedtime. My two favorite nursery rhymes when I was little were:
Fuzzy Wuzzy was a bear
Fuzzy Wuzzy had no hair
Fuzzy Wuzzy wasn’t fuzzy was he?
And:
I never saw a purple cow
I never hope to see one
But I can tell you anyhow
I’d rather see one then be one.
I guess even as a little girl, I was a sucker for the physically handicapped and mentally ill. No wonder I became a Social Worker. Later as a mother, I was ecstatic to find a stuffed bear that had a fur coat that unzipped and came off like a union suit. He had red-stripped underwear underneath. My little girl at first did not know why I insisted he be called Fuzzy Wuzzy. But I was glad to tell her the poem and also glad someone had, from my point of view, been able to solve Fuzzy Wuzzy’s no hair problem, and very neatly too. Never did find a purple cow, but that is why I am a Social Worker and not a mental patient.
THE PURPLE GANG
I am a proud member of The Purple Gang, a chapter of The Red Hat Society. We meet for lunch and fun the second Saturday of each month. This past Saturday was one of the nicest, not the food, but the company. It is my birthday month and I wore my new purple hat. We normally wear red hats, as the society name implies, but if it is our birthday month we can wear purple hats. Anyway, I got a lot of compliments on my hat, and I got birthday cards and presents. Thanks to all that gave me such nice cards and gifts. Among other wonderful presents, I received a Red Hat Society teddy bear and Glow in the Dark jigsaw puzzle from my Secret Sister and a heart shaped frame Pat gave me. I got other presents too. The conversation that day was good, I felt good, the adult beverages I consumed were good, but the meal was not. Oh well, can’t have everything. There was only one thing missing which would have made the afternoon especially nice. My best friend Karol was not there. We joined The Purple Gang together; almost always go to the meetings together, but this day she had to visit her brother in the hospital in Ohio. Hopefully she can attend again next month. Next Monday, we hope to go to Lansing for a Red Hat doings. See all you Michigan Red Hatters there.
BIG FISH LITTLE POND MY TOM
Tom caught this wide mouth bass in the little pond behind our house this morning. He was so excited he called me on his cell phone from the edge of the pond. I was just in our office/craft room. I took the picture. Tom liked the picture. Besides the beauty of the fish, he thinks it really shows the beauty of where we live. Over the long cold frozen winter, I almost forgot the best reason why we had moved to our manufactured home, but with warm weather and the reinstallation of the two fountains, and Tom’s joy of fishing, it all came back to me. I am going fishing as soon as possible.
HEY RED HATTERS
Can any of you tell me where this quote comes from? “And the woman was arrayed in purple and scarlet color, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls…” No, it is not from a news account of a Red Hat affair. Give up? Click here: The Answer. Amazing! Any comments?
CHAIN E-MAIL LETTERS
Does it have a bug in it, or a virus tagging along? Will opening it cause my computer to crash or do weird things? One time, some bug or virus took over the built-in search feature of the Address bar on my web Explorer program. Thereafter, no matter what I was searching for, my inquiries lead me to a page full of links to products or services for sale. Never could get that fixed. Had to wipe the whole hard drive and reinstall Windows. That worked, but suddenly the monitor of my laptop refused to show anything. That was money down the drain. You can see why I am so leery of those e-mails that start out announcing they have been forwarded to me from someone else who got them from someone else, and which almost always have cute subject lines or pleading ones like: You have to read this! Besides, just between you and me, most of these much passed on bits of prose or pictures are not cute, funny, or interesting enough to look at, let alone pass on to someone else.
MORE ON BIRTHDAYS
Well, according to the web site I linked to re birthdays, also born on April 6 was Berry Levinson, Billy Dee Williams, John Ratzenburger, Marilu Henner, Merle Haggard and others. Well, guess what, Jerry, my stepson, and I were joined by a very publicly expected baby, Grace Hasselbeck born to Elisabeth Hasselbeck of The View. In addition, though of course, we do not know what the date is on LOST, but Claire had her baby last night. on LOST. Congratulations to all the new babies, real or pretend that were born on my special day.
BIRTHDAYS
I was born on Easter; my Dad said that made me special. My Mom said it made me handicapped. You see I was born in a Catholic hospital on Easter Sunday over 50 years ago tomorrow. According to my mother, all the hospital staff was in Church all day and she, was ignored most of the day, and when she was not ignored, she was medicated to hold the birth back as there were no nurses or doctors to attend her. She and my father played cards and smoked cigarettes while waiting. My mother was in labor 36 hours. I was born with very mild CP. I do not know if being born on Easter made me handicapped, but I feel lucky to have been born at all. You see, my parents had been married nine years, had both gone through WWII as members of the armed forces and they never had any other children. I on the other hand, gave birth to three children and raised two more. I always thought my son; my second child was special due to the circumstances of his birth. Joe’s father and I were not getting along well the month Joe was conceived so the probability of conception was very low. Let’s put it this way, Joe was almost an immaculate conception. I was not even aware of my pregnancy for four months after conception. My body behaved during this time as if I was not pregnant at all. When I finally got an inclination that I might be preggers, I thought I was at most a little over a month. You can imagine my astonishment when the gynecologist announced after his exam that I was four or five months pregnant. On the day I got that news, I started my first real professional job and my husband walked out on me. My job was working in a detention center for delinquent youth. While pregnant, Joe and I survived a riot by the inmates, an assault on me by a female inmate and some crazy folks trying to break in to the detention center in order to harm one of our inmates. In addition, my car skidded on ice and rolled onto its side into a slushy pond in the center of the interstate median, whereupon I found the then current TV advertisements for VW Bugs were inaccurate. They were not watertight. The next day, when walking across a parking lot into a store an old lady in a large Cadillac hit me and knocked me down. She apparently had no knowledge of how long her car really was. Thank God, Joe was born whole healthy and well, all nine pounds of him. You can see why I thought he must have an important purpose in life. Well, maybe he does have an important purpose, but I no longer think he will ever be President of the United States. That he is Samantha’s Daddy and a damn good one is purpose enough. Ah Birthdays. Follow the link to see who else had or has your birthday.
SAMANTHA WAS HERE YESTERDAY
Samantha is our only grandchild. You would think with 5 children, depending how you count them, we would have more grandchildren by now, but sadly we do not. We have hopes for the future however. Our youngest is only 19 and still in college, and we are teaching Samantha to tell her mother she wants a little brother that she can boss around. Samantha’s mother who has an older brother might see the appeal of Samantha being able to boss a younger brother around.
Samantha at 3 ½ years is into everything when she is here. She gives lots of kisses and hugs, semi torments the dog, likes to watch cartoons and do anything with Papa, my husband and her default paternal grandpa. She is thankfully less active then her father, my son, who at almost 33 is still extremely hyperactive. He was here too yesterday. I am exhausted today.
Samantha’s father thinks, probably rightly so, that Samantha watches too many cartoons on TV, so, when I finally got her settled down to watch cartoons on the TV in her Aunt Vicky’s room, so Gramma could get a break from her activities, her Dad found her and started chasing her around the house. I found myself yelling, just like I did many years ago, “ Hey you two, no running in the house!”
Samantha at 3 ½ years is into everything when she is here. She gives lots of kisses and hugs, semi torments the dog, likes to watch cartoons and do anything with Papa, my husband and her default paternal grandpa. She is thankfully less active then her father, my son, who at almost 33 is still extremely hyperactive. He was here too yesterday. I am exhausted today.
Samantha’s father thinks, probably rightly so, that Samantha watches too many cartoons on TV, so, when I finally got her settled down to watch cartoons on the TV in her Aunt Vicky’s room, so Gramma could get a break from her activities, her Dad found her and started chasing her around the house. I found myself yelling, just like I did many years ago, “ Hey you two, no running in the house!”
DEATH WITH DIGNITY
Terri died. Her husband’s lawyer said she had a peaceful beautiful death. Her right to dignity had been preserved. Well, I for one do not want to go into that good night peacefully. Dignity be dammed. Let me leave kicking and screaming, struggling, in pain if necessary. My husband and I agree, “Please use all methods, medical, mechanical, supernatural, or otherwise, to keep our bodies alive as long as possible.” There is always hope. And even if hope is gone, I do not want to just slip away, as if life has no worth, or purpose. We have all heard of folks in profound coma awaking after many years when all hope was gone. Besides, I firmly believe we humans have no business deciding when another human dies. Except in war, which is sometimes a necessary evil.
MY FIRST PRONOUNCEMENTS
I started this Blog to record anything I might be thinking or wondering. I am retired, but when I was working, as I drove from home call to home call, I would listen to talk radio. Often times I wanted to add my two cents worth to what was being said, but by the time I would have stopped and found a phone, I knew the conversation would be off on another topic and anyway, I was working, so should not be using work time to call radio stations. I learned about Blogging from the news so thought; Great!, a place I can say what I want, either in response to current news, or what my spouse, children, grandchild or others say, or what I read, or even remembrances of past times and people.
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