FYI - I'm not left handed

I want to post about my accident but it takes too long to type. So here are the facts - short and sweet.

Two days before Christmas.
Walmart Toy Department
Helping three customers at once.
A ladder to get the two baby dolls from the top shelf.
Coming down the ladder answering questions as I go down.
Where did that bottom step go??????
OWWWWWWWW!!
One ER visit, x-rays, bad sprain and bone contusion, blue brace
Days of light-duty work, meaning no use of right hand
Continued pain
Visit to "Walmart doctor" with new diagnosis
Probable break of small bones in thumb area of the wrist.
New brace that immobilizes the thumb.
Much less pain.

On that note: I am sooooo happy to have Lisa and crew in the house. Willow is too.

Technical Difficulty

To those of you that I told to watch my blog for pictures of Miss Ashley Kiera . . . I've tried!!

I even emailed Kodak to see if they could help. (Got an email back that was in geekese but figured out what he was saying) It didn't help.

For some reason the SD Card that works fine in my camera and fine in the photo kiosk at Walmart isn't working in my computer. It keeps giving me a message that the disk isn't formatted and would I like for it to be formatted. Yes gives me a message saying it can not be formatted and No does nothing. So, once I figure this thing out, I'll post them. In the meantime, you could harass the father and tell him pictures are wanted. You do know he has a computer too. And access to the child and her brother and her mother. Gee, maybe even a family picture . . .

Northern High School - Class of 1974

Fill this out about your high school! The longer ago it was, the more fun the answers will be!! Re-post with the name of high school and graduating year.

1.Did you marry someone from your high school? Yeah, right.

2.Did you car pool to school? I rode the bus unlike my spoiled children who drove themselves and didn't have to ride the bus but complained because it wasn't nice enough AND still complain. HUMPH

3.What kind of car did you have? Ok, you obviously weren't reading what I just wrote.

4.What kind of car do your drive now? Pontiac Vibe named Miss Daisy.

5.It's Friday night...where are YOU (then)? at home

6.It's Friday night..where are you (now)? At work

7.What kind of job did you have in high school? I wasn't allowed to work other than occasional babysitting

8.What do you do now? Wal-Mart associate

9.Were you a party animal? HAHAHAHAHAHA

10.Were you considered a flirt? No one knew I existed. Talking to guys made my head spin so I didn't do it.

11.Were you in band, orchestra, or choir? nope, I didn't have a ride home other than the bus so no extracurricular activites

12. Did you get suspended/expelled? That would have drawn too much attention to me.

13. Can you sing the fight song? We had one but I can't remember it.

14.Who was/were your favorite teacher(s)? Mrs. DeMaere, 11th grade American History

15. Where did you sit during lunch? I hid from the world anyplace I could.

16. What was your school's full name? Northern High School

17. What was your school mascot? Knights

18.If you could go back and do it again, would you? Not on your life. The best punishment for me would be to send me back. BRRRRRR

19. What do you remember most about graduation? HOT! In the middle of the football field with bulldozers waiting to rip up the stadium to start a building to replace it.

20.Who did you take to prom Senior year? OK, you have not been listening. I did not exist. No dances, no parties, no Prom

21. Did you have fun at Prom? Pay attention!

22.Do you still talk to the person you went to Prom with? SIGH

23.Are you planning on going to your 20 year reunion? Nope, skipped it.

24.Do you still talk to people from school? Amazingly, a few. For some reason over the years the snobs and those who tortured me became human and as I'd see them in other settings we would connect.

Now your turn. What do you remember?

Black Friday Comments

Today I saw a video clip from the news. It seems Walmart is being sued by the family of the young man who was trampled to death at a Walmart in New York. Of course I don't know every little detail so I may make an assumption that isn't correct. I hope I don't.

It seems to me that to hold one company responsible for the idiots who line up so they can save a couple of dollars while fighting with everyone else for the same product is ridiculous. How can Walmart be to blame for the actions of a crowd of people? This practice has been going on for years. Even before it was named Black Friday by the police in Philadelphia in the mid sixties (look up "origin of black friday"), it was considered a great day to go Christmas shopping.

So, #1 - All stores participating in sales on Black Friday shouldn't be held to blame for the actions of individuals. #2 - For years I've heard people talk about their experience with other shoppers on that stupid day. Most act like it's an accomplishment to get up, stand in line, have other customers and the cashiers be rude, crude and downright atrocious to them. They need to wear a t-shirt that says "I survived Black Friday 2008" so they can show off how stupid they are. And yes, I have actually seen t-shirts to that effect. The news plays up Black Friday for days before the actual day and show how awful people can be. Now why would you CHOOSE to go into a mob environment and then say that you were carried through in the crowd and couldn't help it. BULL! If someone chooses to ride an angry bull and gets hurt do you sue the owner of the bull? I hope not. So in MY opinion every one of those people in that crowd were responsible for the young man's death. I know they didn't go there with that intent. It's the way I feel about people who say they were drunk and their judgement was impaired so therefore anything they may have done while drunk wasn't their fault. "I know, let's blame the bar that served them the drinks. It must be their fault." BULL, once again. At some point they were sober and chose to put something in their body that would impair their judgment. Same for the shoppers. They knew what they were getting into - you couldn't miss it in the media. Which brings me to #3. Why not blame the newspapers for running the ads for the sales that "caused" these people to be idiots. The TV commercials were aired so the stations must be responsible too. How about the news stories about folks gearing up for the big day? I blame the MEDIA for helping to present the whole mob mentality for Black Friday.

So here's my take on the death of the young man. It was a horrible ACCIDENT. No one had any intentions of it happening. However, the media "aided and abetted" and made the whole situation possible. Was Walmart or any other store responsible? It would be financial suicide to NOT have sales on a day that brings out droves of people. If Walmart's items on sale were such a great deal over other stores then they win the game, not lose it. (I read an article on Yahoo that was analysing the "10 Best Deals for Black Friday" and Walmart was not on the list.) Is there a way to stop this insanity? Not having any items on sale would stop the flood of people and be a stupid move for any company. Force the idiots to take a number and stand in line with an army standing there with guns to make them comply? Yeah, that'll work. Imagine that chaos. The companies need to make a plan of some sort before next year but that does not make them to blame.

One last thought: there used to be some store that had numerous commercials with the crazy mob outside the locked doors waiting for the sale to start and the store employees getting padded up or making the newest employee be the one to open the door. Supposedly this was funny. It's not funny. The media each year works up the frenzy and stores have to compete with other stores for the dollars that will be spent that day. What's wrong with looking to the real source of fault. US, the shopper who participates with the mob. Stay home, the sales aren't that good, anyway.

Trivia Note: The actual busiest shopping day of the year is either two days before Christmas if Christmas is later in the week or the Saturday before Christmas if it's early in the week. Black Friday normal comes in at 7th or 8th for sales. There may be more people traffic on Black Friday but not as much buying as you would expect.

Revisiting a Poem I Wrote

I wrote this last year and though it was meant as a little jab at what has become a very strange day (in my opinion) it really holds a lot of truth. I can't decided if I shared it with my bosses at Walmart if they would see the humor or just be annoyed with me.

Black Friday

The day after Thanksgiving and all through the house,
EVERYONE's stirring, even that mouse.
What's so exciting? all the children say,
Why are we leaving our house on this day?
School's out! Why can't we have fun?
I wanna play and get out in the sun.
I don't understand why we can't play.
What so darn special about BLACK FRIDAY?

We still have food from yesterday's meal
To heat up and eat up so what's the big deal?
It's stupid to get up before the sun
I just went to bed, my sleepin's not done.

To get in the car and go to the store
To wait in a line - they haven't opened the door!
A special? A SPECIAL? A SPECIAL, you say?
There's nothing special about this dumb BLACK FRIDAY!

I'm just a kid and I see what they did.
Those advertisers fooled you, their intentions they hid.
They're after your money, hide your wallet - you dolt!
OH NOOOOOO! They got you before you could bolt!
The computer you wanted - it was a steal!
But look at this one! It's more but, hey, what a deal.
Oh, they only had fifty, we're fifty-one, you say?
We're not having much luck on this BLACK FRIDAY.

Wait, what do you mean? That one's been sold?
There aren't any more is what we are told.
But for 800 more than we wanted to pay
We can get a karaoke machine, hey, whadda ya say?
Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?
You wanted a computer and what did ya find?
An expensive machine that we don't need,
But what a great buy, hunh? ARE YOU ON WEED?
They are out to get you, don't you know?
They take your money, your budget you blow!
BLACK FRIDAY is a myth, it isn't true.
An advertising ploy against me and against you.
Next year remember, Thanksgiving plus one day,
Hide your keys, hide your wallet, in your home you must STAY!
Don't let them entice you to their stores on that day
Then maybe, just maybe you'll survive BLACK FRIDAY.

written by Gramama on BLACK FRIDAY 2007

Mail Call

For more years than I like to think about, I have paid the US Post Office for the honor of having a tiny box in their building where they can deliver my mail. I give this address to folks that I want to send me mail - and here's the kicker - and that I WANT to receive. Of course I have to drive to that building, normally making a special trip, to pick it up. For this honor of getting my mail I pay them a fee.

Before I continue you might want to read this article - http://www.slate.com/id/2204823/?y=1

I got this PO Box because I wasn't getting all my mail. I decided (undocumented, of course) that I had a 50 - 50 chance of getting mail I wanted and a 200% chance of getting junk. Likewise, at least once a week someone else's mail was placed in my mailbox. My favorite extra mail is for a household with the same number yet on a nearby street. I used to take their misdelivered mail to them and give it to them. This older couple acted like I was stealing their mail so I started writing "delivered to the wrong address" across it and placed it back in my mailbox with the flag up. A few days later it would be delivered back to me. I took it to the post office closest to me but they were always so quick to let me know that their station wasn't responsible. I live a few houses away from another zip code covered by the closest post office. MY post office is way out of my way to anything.

So I pay for the privilege of getting my mail delivered to a box - a very small box. Now I'm getting more and more junk mail in the PO Box. Now here is the rest of the story - as Paul Harvey says.

A few months ago I changed banks. I signed up for a box of checks although I wasn't planning on using checks very often. I had them sent to my PO Box. A week or so later I picked up my checks from my PO Box, took it home and tossed it into a drawer set aside for the banking stuff. Went on with life and all was well. HA!

A few weeks ago I needed a check for something and got out my checks. HMMMMM? This box has the wrong bank printed on it. What the heck? You have GOT to be kidding me! These are not MY checks!!! A man in New Jersey who has a PO Box in North Carolina with numbers NOWHERE NEAR my numbers was getting checks delivered at the same time and I got HIS checks. For THIS I pay extra??????

Lessons learned:

1 - The Post Office is run by human beings and can and will make mistakes.

2 - When getting stuff that is important delivered to a mailbox OR a PO Box - always check it to make sure it is correct. Immediately. Not later. Immediately.

3 - Even though this was a huge mistake, the odds on getting my mail correctly are WAY higher with the PO Box than that tin can at the end of my driveway.

One other question. Who in their right mind decided that a tin can at the end of a driveway was a safe way to get anything important delivered to you? Oh, I guess I answered that with the words "in their right mind".

OH, What a Night!

If you are squeamish, stop reading now.

After I posted last night, I spent the rest of the night either in the bathroom or in the bed. Chills so severe that I broke a tooth and every muscle in my back is screaming. Of course every now and then I'd balance this out with sweats that drenched my bed. I couldn't drink, not even water. Eating? Not an option. This went on all day. In the afternoon I was so lightheaded and sick I couldn't do anything but lay on the bathroom floor. If my phone had not been in my car I would have called 911 for a ride to the hospital where I should have been. I couldn't move to clean myself much less take care of myself.

It's now almost 5:30 am and I'm tempting fate by drinking fruit juice and I moved to the living room. I'm probably past the crisis (PLEASE?) My abdomen hurts and is making scary noises but I think I'll live.

One of those days

Have you ever had one of those days that after an hour you know you should have stayed in bed? Mine was today.

First I had a hard time going to sleep and then after not quite three hours of sleep I wake up and can't go back to sleep. I continued the ongoing saga of the leaky bathroom tub, without a solution, of course. Finally it was time to go to work and I was ready for sleep. Bad timing.

Next I decide to stop at Bojangles for a sausage biscuit on the way to work. As I drive away I discovered they neglected to give me a straw for my soda. Trying to drive is tricky enough without having to maneuver a paper cup without a top. So what happens? You guessed it. The soda spilled into my lap. Besides being uncomfortable it looked like I wet my pants. Once it dried the stain looked like I had had an accident.

Work was a little weird because we had to read each label to separate merchandise earmarked for Black Friday. It was a good thing the truck was about half the size of normal.

Two people made comments on how bad I looked because of being tired. I didn't think I looked THAT bad but I guess I was wrong,

On my break I was working on Christmas gifts and my glue ran out almost immediately. Are you seeing the pattern?

My stomach started cramping about an hour before the end of work. I decided I needed to go home early when the diarrhea started. The sausage biscuit wasn't a good idea after all. So I get my stuff together. clock out and go to my car. How can we top this wonderful day? You've got it! I couldn't find my key. SIGH

I had to go back in and unload both my pocketbook but my tool bag. No key. I start backtracking to see where I left it. It's been four hours since I had the key so I wandered all over the store looking for my key. I had one place left to look and behold - the key sitting on the table in the break room, just where I left it

Now I'm home and too keyed up to go to sleep. Nifty day, hunh?

Thriller - 25 Years Old

I just went to a site and there was a little side video on Thriller. It was great! Quincey Jones is interviewed and he talks about some of the individual songs like Beat It, Billie Jean and Thriller. Wow, how time flies. They showed parts of the videos of the songs and some footage with MJ performing and dancing. It brought back so many memories. I remember Paul wanted the record and how often he played it. It kind of annoyed him that his old parents liked the same music that he liked.

HMMMMMMMM

Lots of times I wonder if anyone reads any of my blogs. There aren't any comments that indicate it was read so I have no way of knowing. (If you know of a way that I haven't figured out PLEASE comment so I can learn.)

So why do I ponder on this dilemma? No names will be mentioned but recently more than one person left me a message asking if I had looked at their blog, that I didn't comment so they didn't know if I had and to please let them know when I do. Hmmmmmm, sounds familiar . . . I wonder where I've heard that before?

Maybe if we leave a short comment now and again?????

More Words to Live By

Hopes Dreams and Wishes
By Cody Hauser, 18, of Lexington

Hopes, dreams, and wishes are all one in the same. The clock reads 11:11; we make a wish. We wish on cars that have a head light out, on yellow stoplights as we race under them to beat out the red one that follows. We wish on falling stars as well as the brightest stars we see on crisp, clear nights. After wishing, we go on about our days, keeping that wish in the back of our minds.

As the day comes to a close we get ready and go to bed. Once asleep, our wish floods back to us and becomes our dream. Our wish is now played out as a dream, ending the way we want. We awake the next morning to reality realizing that it was all a dream. That dream now becomes hope. We then spend our day hoping that our dream will become our reality. Thus, our hopes, dreams, and wishes are all one in the same, are all miraculously intertwined to imitate one another in different phases of our lives.

Days come and go. Those days turn into weeks that turn into months and possibly into years. But, one thing that is for sure is that as long as we draw a breath there is an ongoing chance that they will become reality. It may not be over the time span we want, but these wishes will come true on God’s time.

So, keep on wishing and dreaming because they will turn to hopes, and everyone deserves hope. Do not go around being negative by telling people their hopes, dreams, and wishes will not come true, because you do not know for sure whether or not they will. No one wants their hopes and dreams crushed, not even you. So, be the one to encourage people throughout the day. You never know when you might make a wish come true and keep someone’s hopes and dreams alive, letting them know that someone cares.

War and Loved Ones, Prayer and GO VOTE

This is from Words to Live By from a local radio station and I wanted to share.

Email from Adam:
"I listen to you guys every chance I get, and thought since y’all were so supportive of us soldiers, you might like to hear about one of many that are about to leave families behind to go to Iraq again.

I returned home in 2006 after driving supply convoys all over Iraq in a freightliner truck for a year, and life was going great. Bought my own home, and met a fantastic woman in 2007 and fell in love. She has a beautiful 5 year old daughter that I love as my own. We were enjoying being a family, and I was quickly learning how to be a dad.

In March of 2008, the greatest blessing ever was given to us. My son James Wesley was born. That boy is all I think about every day. I cherish every minute I get to spend with him. I was still in the National Guard, and while at my annual 2 week training at Ft. Bragg, my name was read off of a list of soldiers that were to deploy back to Iraq the beginning of next year. Our lives and plans got flipped upside down. We began talking about getting married, but decided that there wasn't time to plan the ceremony that we both wanted, nor did we have the time to raise the money we would need to have the ceremony. While away in San Antonio, TX for a school to learn the new job the Army has decided I needed to learn so I could go back to Iraq, my son began sitting up by himself and rolled over on his own for the first time. I'm sure this is just one of his "first" that I am going to miss, and while many parents probably wouldn't be affected by missing those particular milestones, it hit me hard. I already know I will be in California training on his first birthday, and no clue where I will be when he says his first words or takes his first steps. After this happened, I decided that regardless of the time frame, my girlfriend and I would get married. We have planned out a wedding, and though it's probably going to be very bare minimal and pretty rinky-dink looking, it will get the job done, and I can't wait for it. Most of my fellow soldiers that I wanted to be at the wedding and at my bachelor party if I ever find the time to have one, are not here, they're off at schools learning their new jobs. But 3 guys that were my closest friends throughout my career in the National Guard, will be there as my groomsmen. This is going to be a wonderful day I'm sure of it, and I would like to ask everyone to pray for me that it is, and more importantly to remember to pray for me and my fellow soldiers and families over the next year. I tell alot of people this one thing when they ask about how we survived driving the roads over there. Before every convoy, we would all meet in front of the first vehicle, and one of us would lead the group in a prayer. That's not something you see on the news, nor does the Army teach it when training soldiers how to drive the roads, but it was the tactic that I'm sure brought us home with no injuries in the whole company, and over a couple million miles on the road.

Now I'm sure my story doesn't sound too bad to some, there are plenty of soldiers out there who have it worse than me. But I just wanted to provide a real example of what soldiers go through in order to protect your rights and freedoms. As me and my family go through all of this, it angers me to hear that there are so many Americans that still have not registered to vote. Why? Am I leaving my family for nothing? Are there that many people out there that don't care for their rights? If you don't like your rights, join the military and you can learn to live with less of them. People it's not a hard process to register, and it would make soldiers that are away from their loved ones during the upcoming holidays feel much better about why they are gone. Also, if you don't vote, then what right do you have to complain about anything over the next 4 years? None. One thing I enjoy about this time and being in the military, is what other job do you know that gives you a chance to have a say in who your boss will be? That's why I'm going to vote.Oh, and regardless of which candidate gets picked, we've already been told that it won't affect me going to Iraq or not. I'm going no matter who gets elected."

~Sgt. Adam Rose

Nuff Said

Get a Life!

I don't understand people. The uproar over the picture on a magazine cover of Angelina Jolie in which she is breastfeeding one of her children is silly. 1- the picture shows much less skin than when Jolie is photographed by the life-draining paparazzi. 2- there is nothing more natural than feeding your baby. 3- it is a very tasteful picture and isn't insulting at all. 4- have these people ever seen the "swim suit" issue of Sports Illustrated, not to mention the calendar???? Complain about that instead.

In case you want to see the pictures here is a link to a slide show. http://www.wmagazine.com/celebrities

Motherhood, Children and Poems

Jennifer has a wonderful entry on her blog about motherhood and how doing things for your family can sometimes keep you from having real time with your family. It made me think of a poem I had cross-stitched when my children were young and pretty much summed it up for me. This is what it said:

Cooking and cleaning can wait ‘till tomorrow.
For children grow up, I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep,
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

I’ve seen this poem with minor little changes, like settle down cobwebs or I’m nursing my baby, but the poem is essentially the same.

I decided to investigate and this is what I learned. The poem, Song for a Fifth Child, was written by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton and was first published in Ladies Home Journal in October 1958. Here it is in its entirety.

Song for a Fifth Child
by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.

Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.
Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

While looking for the poem I found a different version that was listed as Author Unknown yet it is familiar enough to say it was inspired by Song for a Fifth Child.

I hope that my child, looking back on today,
remembers a mother who had time to play.
Children grow up when you're not looking,
there will be years ahead for cleaning and cooking.

So hush now cobwebs, dust - go to sleep
I'm rocking my baby cause babies don't keep.

S A R A H

Happy Birthday to my baby!

Today in Sharing Time, the Valiant 10 class and I used Sarah's birthday as well as the fact that Jennifer and Lisa's birthdays are coming up to "make" a cake to celebrate and to teach our lesson. There were three answers to our main question so there were three candles for three girls. The plate, the cake, the icing, the candles and the three flames were each scriptures or stories. At the end we called Sarah and sang Happy Birthday to her over the phone. The kids had a great time. I'm not sure about Sarah. I've left five messages for her and I've not heard from her. I hope she's still speaking to me.

So for my baby -

S is for smart. She's one of the smartest people I know.
A is for adorable. She was as a child and she is now.
R is for resourceful. She is able to use what she has to accomplish anything.
A is for awesome. She inspires me to want to be a better person.
H is for happy. Just thinking about Sarah makes me happy.

So - Happy Birthday, Sarah!!

How Do You Save?

With the price of gas going up and all the money issues floating around I thought I'd pose the question - What do you do to help save money?

One thing I do is to take my lunch to work. Studies have shown that millionaires got that way by cutting corners and trying to save where they could. Most said they packed their lunch. Makes sense.

I'm not driving as much as I was before gas prices went through the roof.

Generic brands - most taste ok and cost lots less. One thing I will not go generic on - Kraft Macaroni and Cheese is the best and there is no substitute. OK, got another - mayonnaise has to be Dukes Mayonnaise. I don't know how folks stand anything else.

Sales - I watch for the items I use on a regular basis to go on sale and I buy only when on sale.

So what do you do?

PS: This is my 100th post - wooo hooooo

Greatest American Dog

I watched the show on CBS.com and I enjoyed the whole experience. Of course, my Willow is the greatest dog. Ok, so she's a pain in the behind, I love the stinker. What can I say? The one that won, Travis and Presley, were great and they were my second choice on the first show. I loved Bill and Star and thought they would win. Oh, well.

One thing that I liked about the show was that I learned a lot from watching. I learned things that I was able to use with my sweet monster.

Melancholy

Melancholy - such a strange word. However most people know exactly how it feels.

This is the time that I start getting really sad because most of my family is far away. I miss my kids (that includes their wonderful spouses) and I miss my grandchildren. I have one grandchild that I've never seen in person and have very few pictures of her at all, plus kids grow fast so I'm sure she doesn't look like the pictures I have.. SIGH...

The reason that I start the sad time is the birthday months have started and holidays that scream family are going to be here soon. My girls were kind enough to be born in different months. September starts off with Chloe and Sarah, October is Jennifer, November is Lisa and then comes Thanksgiving and Christmas. Days we used to celebrate were Dad's birthday, Mine and Robbie's anniversary, Robbie's birthday, and Grammy and Grandpa Harry's birthdays and Kyle's birthday. I probably forgot something. It always got busy with lots of cake making (I decorated a kaboodle of cakes in my day!) Now I remember to mail gifts and sit here alone wishing I was with them. Bummer.

Birthday Blues, (and pinks and reds)

Have I mentioned that I love being a Gramama? I'm sure I have at least a time or two (or five million).

Being an absent Gramama isn't as great. I want to be with all the grandkids, at the same time - all the time. For the grandkids that are far away (which is most of them) it means I don't know their likes and dislikes, what toys they have and/or like or want. It's very depressing. The obvious solution is sending gift cards to them or checks to the parents and let them go out and buy the gifts. Very non-satisfying. Half the fun is picking the gift out, wrapping the gift and watching them open the gift.

So I got a few gifts (paying attention to size and weight of the gift) and had a blast wrapping them and then got to get a box so I could send it by mail. I hope that Miss Chloe enjoys and likes her gifts. I had fun getting them. Happy birthday, Chlobear.

Gender Issues

I'm not really sure how to phrase what I want to say but I'll give it a try. I have been the token female for a company before. I have been in several non-traditional positions and really don't think of myself being overly sensitive about any of it. However, in all of the non-traditional jobs I've been in, the men try to make things easier for me "because I'm a girl." Today I felt very uncomfortable about the whole issue. First I felt that I was being "put up with" and not really part of the team. Next I was given a task that is so obviously busy work for the girls while the real men do the real work. I actually understand the task because the other two females are both pregnant and can't lift heavy things and shouldn't be pulling around pallets and so forth. Still, I can do more than they can yet I'm put on the easy task with them. I guess that kinda works out because I'm there to lift the heavy boxes and help them that way. The last straw was when someone came up to us "girls" and told us we needed to train for another task. The way it was presented it felt like the girls in the department could do this and the guys were not mentioned. It turned out that the guys will be training for that also, it was just the way it was presented that felt like a gender specific issue.

Anyway - I want to do everything I am physically able to do and not be pampered. I know these guys are raised to take care of the women but I'm capable and should be allowed to participate in the work that is being done.

I feel better now that I got that off my chest.

Red Alert!

OK, this is just weird! Today I have been evacuated from the building I was in - - - TWICE! Two buildings, two fires, two parking lots and SIX fire trucks. I'm afraid to go home.

First fire was at work. I was waiting on a customer and the fire alarms go off. Noise and flashing lights. We decided it was a false alarm or maybe they were testing the system. Then they called on the intercom, in a very stern, no nonsense voice. Attention customers: Please make your way to the front of the store and out the front doors. This was repeated three times. Then it was Attention associates: Please make your way to the front of the store and outside the building. Four fire trucks. It turned out that the meat department wall caught on fire. They were quick to deal with it and calling 911 so it was contained very quickly. Fun.

Now I'm sitting in the parking lot of a restaurant where I was getting something to go. Electrical fire in the wall. Evacuation and two fire trucks. At least this time I had my car key and was able to sit in the car. The sun was melting me during the first evacuation.

Mama Mia!

Ok, so I'm addicted. It's not a BAD addiction. I'm just driving everyone around me insane.

Abba sang songs when I was younger. The whole script was made around these songs. I saw the movie and loved it. At first it was a little weird to have them burst into song, especially actors who are not known for their singing. I mean, James Bond never sang, did he? But I loved the story - it was what was going on when I was younger so the fact that this lady didn't know which of the three men was her daughter's father . . . well, it wasn't a big deal in the olden days.

I went out and bought the soundtrack and I am singing these songs all the time. When I'm not singing, I'm humming. Those poor kids that I work with are going to start humming the songs and they'll kill me. Death by spreading humming?

Honey, honey - how you thrill me, uh hunh, honey, honey. I work all night, I work all day, I pay the bills I hafta pay - ain't it sad? - and still there never seems to be a single penny left for me - that's too bad. - money, money money - must be funny, in a rich man's world- Here I go again, mama mia - how can I resist ya? Somehow those three songs lose something without the music. Oh, well.

Perfect Day

Have you ever had one of those days that everything seems to go right? I had one of them last week. I woke up just before the alarm went off feeling rested and happy. I got to work on time and people were smiling. My job was fun and going well. Lunch was delicious and relaxing. As I was working in the afternoon, I heard a voice behind me saying, " I don't think Gramama has seen us yet." When I turned around, there was Paul and Tyler! Tyler grinned when he saw me and his smile just got bigger when I picked him up. (That's enough to make it a perfect day by itself.) When I was leaving work, I had a tiny panic because my car key was not in my tiny pocket I always keep it in. A feeling of dread went over me, thinking I had locked my key in the car. A sudden flash of hope happened when I decided to check by the service desk to see if anyone had turned my key in. Tada! There it was! I got home to my number one adoring fan, Willow, who kept me company for the rest of the night. Perfect!

Great response, folks

Well, the post was on Monday and today is Saturday. Nice to know that everyone is out there enjoying the summertime and not sitting around reading my blog and commenting. LOL

Summertime

"Oh, what do you do in the summertime? When all the world is green?
Do you fish in a stream, or lazily dream on the banks as the clouds go by?
Is that what you do? So do I?

Oh what do you do in the summertime? When all the world is green?
Do you swim in a pool, to keep yourself cool, or swing in a tree up high?
Is that what you do? So do I!

Oh what do you do in the summertime when all the world is green?
Do you march in parades, or drink lemonades, or count all the stars in the sky?
Is that what you do? So do I!"

This song written by Dorothy S. Anderson is the childrens' song I think about when I think of summer music. (Along with patriotic music, of course.)

So let's hear it. What do YOU do in the summertime?

In case anyone is curious as to what made me think of this - today I used a word that all truly Southern folks know and understand. Someone asked me how the weather was in NC today. I said MUGLY! For you poor folks not blessed with Southern roots - MUGGY and UGLY combined makes MUGLY. This is the heat of the day after a few rounds of thunderstorms during the night. As the day heats up, the water-soaked ground tries to get rid of the water that is drowning it. The air can't handle all that water to make it evaporate quickly and the area we get to walk around in is seriously MUGLY.

So, what do I do in the summertime? When all the world is green?
I read books in my room, my A/C on zoom, a glass of ice water too.
Is that what you do? Tell me too.

Thanksgiving

Yeah, I know that the actual holiday isn't until November. However, today is a great day to be thankful. I am so thankful that I was born in the US. I can express my opinions and you can scoff at me if you want to do so and guess what? Nobody has to be injured or killed because we don't agree. I know there are a lot of countries that seem to be as "free" as we are but I'm glad I was born here.

I love America, with all the flaws that we put into it. We still have the freedom to fix something when it isn't quite right.

So, Happy Fourth of July from one happy American.

Cute Insanity

I knew I was little warped and quite frankly take great pride in not be just like everyone else. However, I had a conversation with myself last night that proves I'm ready for intervention.

I left Duke Hospital last night from volunteering for the Ronald McDonald House Family Room. As I was walking to the garage, I realized that one side of my throat was sore. Even though I had been fine for the whole time I was volunteering and hadn't been too cold, I thought, "Oh well, the AC must have been cooler than I thought. "

By the time I got home I wasn't feeling very well. Stuffy nose, my throat was worse and I just felt achy and tired. So I had the following conversation.

Me: I can't believe it! I'm getting sick. I'm not even around people that much anymore so how did I get sick?

Myself: Well, they say that it takes 3-4 days from the time of exposure to actually gett sick so think backwards.

I: That sounds like a good idea, Myself. Me, figure out who got you sick and we'll go beat them to a pulp.

Me: Good idea. Ok, Today I was at church with the 10 year old kids, but they all seemed well and it would have been too soon after exposure anyway.

Myself: OK, so that's out. What about Saturday?

Me: I hung out at home and cleaned inside and outside and worked on Mary Kay a little bit.

I: Not Saturday then. Hey, weren't you at the church on Wednesday night? Did you come up against any germy people?

Me: Nooooo. The only people I had contact with was Vicki and Amy and they were both well.

Myself: I know! Wasn't there a Primary Talent Show on Friday night? At least one of those kids must have been sick.

Me: That might have been true - IF - I had remembered to go. Nope, I just hung out at home on the computer looking for a job.

I: OK, that only leaves Thursday. What did you do on Thursday?

Me: Not much. I ran some errands and then went to Graham to babysit that sweet love, Tyler . . .uh, oh....... (The voice then becomes syrupy just like an idiot cooing at a baby.) AWWWWW . . . I got my cold from Tyler. Isn't that sweet?

Whaddaya think? Time for the looney bin? Well, if so, you'd better book a room for you too. If it was nutty enough for me to have the conversation, YOU sat here and read it!! Of your own free will, HA!

Grandmama

My mother as a grandmother was out of this world awesome. She loved to be with each child, alone and all together. She loved to hug and kiss and just watch each of them to make herself believe that it wasn't a dream. She would play on the floor with them when they were little even though she must have been in pain from the arthritis. She was a hands-on grandmother and was proud of her little ones.

When it came time to choose what I wanted to be called as a grandmother, I couldn't think of anything more fitting than "Grandmama". It turns out that it wasn't allowed because they already had a Grandmama. Oh well, Gramama turned out to be my name instead. I guess they were right - there was only one Grandmama.

NOTE: I will not remind my children that MY grandfather was Papa and when it came time for my father to be a grandfather, he thought it was an honor to be called Papa.

My Mom

I have good and not so good things to say about Mom when I was growing up. Before I get started I just want to say that each of us makes mistakes and none of us are perfect. I think Mom was a great Mom even though there were some things I would never have done as a parent. It was a different time and we can't judge the way things were done when different ideals were normal.

Mom worked hard her whole life. I know she was a waitress several times, she worked at Erwin Mills, later known as Burlington Industries, for a really long time. She was a ward secretary and a sales clerk. We weren't poor but we didn't really have a lot of extra money. Mom always volunteered to work overtime because that was how she paid for school clothes, Christmas and so forth. She preferred to work third shift. She read - a lot. She loved science fiction as well as science. She was very smart, especially when you realize that she dropped out of school in the eighth grade. She took several classes through the years but the ones I remember the most were the two things that she "wanted to do before" she died. I think she knew that the heart problem wasn't going to be fixed so she took them at the same time. She actually passed everything to become an EMS even though she had no intentions of actually working as one. She also learned American Sign Language.

Mom loved Christmas and worked very hard to make sure we had a nice Christmas. I wasn't always appreciative and could kick myself now. There were two things I would love to take back. One was when I got a Madge doll instead of Barbie. Madge was the best friend of Barbie but Barbie cost more. Of course, I didn't hide my disappointment. Dumb kid. The second was when I was in the 7th grade and EVERYONE had a corduroy jacket so when it was time to choose a project to sew in Home Ec, I chose the jacket. Mom went with me to pick out the fabric, yet she wouldn't let me get the right corduroy. The one we got was smelly and I hated it. It just wasn't like everyone else's. Dumb me showed my displeasure and I know I hurt Mom's feelings. Of course the fabric that I wanted was probably way too expensive and I should have been grateful for what I got. In the year before Mom died, we spent a lot of time talking about my childhood years and we forgave each other for the hurts we inflicted on each other.

One thing discussed was how I had to be "in charge" of my brother without any authority yet with all the responsibility. I was eight when it was determined we wouldn't have a babysitter after school. Mom was at home in case of an emergency even if she was asleep. We had a list of chores we were supposed to do each day. The problem was that Scott learned quickly that if he didn't do his share, I was punished because everything wasn't finished. I couldn't make him do anything and if I "told on him", I was punished for letting him do whatever it was! So, Scott ran wild and I cleaned the house and prepared dinner. This went on our whole childhood. When Scott later told us about all the drugs and stuff he had gotten and at what age, I felt guilty because I had raised him wrong! Even though I got over that stupid thought, I still wonder if things would have been different if Mom and Dad had made him accountable for his actions and gave me the authority to let them know when he was acting up. I learned to keep my mouth shut so I wasn't punished and Scott learned how to get away with almost anything. To me this whole issue was the main thing that Mom and Dad did wrong in raising us. I became too responsible and he became too irresponsible. Who knows?

Mom tried hard to be a good mother. I was raised in a time of "spare the rod and spoil the child" but I can tell you that I was NOT spoiled. Belts and switches were the favorite forms of punishment. When I was a teenager I must have been scary. I remember refusing to cry and if looks could kill, I'd have been an orphan. Can we say stubborn and obstreperous?

My mother also had a bit of paranormal "something". (In case you ever wondered where I got it from - now you know.) She would get funny feelings that would come just before something strange happened. She did research into that kind of stuff and found out she was a good palm reader. She would read palms at parties and it would get kinda scary sometimes. One thing that always worried me - she would read everyone's palms and tell them things - BUT she would never tell me what my palm said to her. She would look often but would never tell me anything. Because of the fact that she was really good at it - yep, I think I might still be worried. The fact that she wasn't overly fond of my first husband but was very happy with my second husband tells me a lot. She saw unhappiness for me with the first and happiness with the second. I still wonder if she knew that I would spend most of my life alone and that's why she wouldn't say anything.

Things that Mom liked: Star Trek and Star Wars, mysteries of any sort, flowers, children, cats and dogs.

One thing I know for sure - my mother loved me. I knew it when I was a child and as I grew older. She was a toucher. Hugs and kisses and snuggles were normal. I also know that she did the best she could. So I'll end now and say one last thing - I love you, Mom.

Papa and Mama Ferguson

To continue the story of my mother and those surrounding her, I'll tell you a little about my grandfather, Morris. I was 14 or 15 when he died. (April Fool's Day - I came home from school to have my dad greet me in the yard. He was supposed to be at work and I tried really hard to make him tell me he was doing a sick April Fool's Day joke. I went to my favorite place in the woods behind our house and climbed my favorite tree and cried my heart out. The area was covered in wisteria and to this day I can remember the calm that came over me as I cried and prayed. It was probably the only time before I joined the church that I was sure of God's existence. I didn't really know about the Holy Ghost but I sure recognized the feeling of comfort and love that I was enveloped inside.) He had been really sick with cancer and I had been able to be with him a lot that last 9 months or so because he was in the hospital on the ward that my mother worked as a ward secretary. I had been a candy striper during the summer and they assigned me to Ward J whenever possible. Being with him when my grandmother wasn't around showed an entirely different person to me.

He had had stomach problems and had had surgery that removed about 3/4 of his stomach. He worked in the cotton mill all day and would come home and would sit in his favorite chair in front of the TV and drink a beer. About half a beer and he would be drunk. He was a gentle and sweet drunk, not scary at all. I'm not making excuses for him but if I had had to listen to Elsie tell me all the things I did wrong and how pitiful I was - well, that beer doesn't sound too bad, does it? It doesn't excuse him from being responsible for the things that went on in his house. He should have stood up to Elsie and took control. He just wasn't strong enough and would rather escape in oblivion so he could live down to her expectations. When I was young, I never liked to greet Papa because he smelled funny and always had stubble on his face and it hurt to hug him.

One memory that I will always have that showed their strange marriage is of when I broke my elbow. I was 13 and the night before we left for vacation at the beach I miscalculated while on the playground near our house and landed hard. A friend that lived next to the park drove me home very slowly while, Scott ran home to tell Mom and Dad. (He was pale as a ghost. That was also one of the things that stand out because I had never seen anyone do that before.) I had just eaten dinner so the surgery to put my elbow back together would be the next morning. That Fourth of July in the hospital was NOT the way to spend a vacation.

The day after surgery I had spoken to my parents on the phone and found out my grandparents were at the house. The hospital is only a few blocks away so when Papa said that he would come visit me, I was beyond excited. I had already developed a relationship with him and he was going to get to be the one visiting me instead of the other way around. So of course Mama Ferguson said they would not go, she wanted to go home and didn't want to take the time to go to the hospital. I heard the discussion so I know what was said. Anyway, for once he stood up to her, kinda. They came to the hospital on their way home and waved at me from under my window. He blew me a kiss and she glared. Just the fact that we called him Papa and she was Mama Ferguson speaks volumes, doesn't it?

I might as well tell you the story of how she became Mama Ferguson. Elsie wanted to be called Mama. (I remember telling Dad that she couldn't be Mama because we already had a Mama.) That's what everyone called my Dad's mother and there was no way Elsie could have that honor. So we batted around a few names while at her house one day. Boy, do I remember the reaction she had when we suggested Mammy! She was determined to reject every name because she was a controlling witch. She would only settle for Mama. So when Mom said, "Well, I guess they can either not call you anything or they can call you Mama Ferguson.", we latched onto it. She did not like it and would cringe whenever we used it - for years! I was intimidated by her and was content to not call her anything, (which she didn't like either.) Later as I got older and a little bolder, Mom and Dad were discussing how Elsie didn't like to be called Mama Ferguson. Dad admitted that he enjoyed the fact she didn't like it. A light bulb went off in my brain and I realized it was a simple way to get back at her for all the mean things she did to Mom. She eventually got used to it. The down side was that whenever we had to differentiate between my grandmothers we had to call Dad's mother Mama Ferrell. Mama - the real one - didn't care. She was smart enough to know that she was our real grandmother and that we had to add the last names because the other grandmother was petty and controlling.

In reading this you may think that I hated Mama Ferguson. Not so. Most of my childhood I was afraid of her. When we lived on Ashe Street, Scott and I were sure that the woman that lived upstairs was a real witch. I'm not sure when it happened but somewhere along the way we kinda decided that Mama Ferguson was a witch too. When I got older I recognized her as a woman that I was not fond of but had to be with because it mattered to Mom. It was only after I joined the church and found that I needed to forgive her for being the way she was that I really came to terms with her. As an adult, I realized that I should feel sorry for her. Look at all that she missed by hurting all those around her. She had "favorites" throughout her life and did little things that hurt Mom, over and over. Mom wanted to have her mother love her and even though Elsie changed after Papa died and she spent more time with Mom and Dad - I'm not sure Elsie was capable of loving. She did redeem herself in my eyes when she started visiting Mom more and started going fishing at the coast with Mom and Dad. She was never a loving mother to Mom but she did make Mom feel better.

Skeleton and Warts

I chose to post this on June the 28th because it is in between the two days that I could have posted it on. My mother, Margaret Marie Ferguson, was born on June 29, 1938 and died on June 27, 1990. She was born to Elsie Mae Norton (Nordan) and Morris Singleton (Singletary) Ferguson.

My grandparents were the bane of all genealogist, they changed their own information without the benefit of legalities. Elsie maintained that she was born October 29, 1910 when she was listed in the 1910 Census (taken April 1910) as a 6 month old child. Not hard to figure out that she was born in 1909. She and one of her brothers decided they didn't like the spelling of their last name so they changed it from Nordan to Norton. My grandfather couldn't decide what his middle name was so he varied between the two. While my grandfather was dead when I was trying to do my genealogy, my grandmother was alive for about 25 years after I started. No excuses, hunh? So, lesson 1, 2 and 3 - document, document, document. A person's recollections can be tainted with a bad memory, a desire to be younger than her husband, or having stories handed down which lose their truth as time goes on. (I suspect that the age confusion began when my grandmother realized that since her husband-to-be was born on October 10, 1910 she was almost a year older than him. Hey, it matters to some people.)

Both of my grandparents were from Johnston County, North Carolina. The Ferguson line came to America from Scotland by way of a colony in Virginia and down to North Carolina. I have a written story about how the Ferguson line came through a family with two sons and a daughter and were in a colony that was attacked by Indians while the two sons were out hunting with a group. Supposedly the entire colony was wiped out except those that were out hunting. I tell you this story because it is what has been handed down on the Ferguson side. Remember what I said about stories being handed down? This is also the side that is supposed to have an Indian in the lineage because of the foreheads and cheek bones found on the Ferguson side. I've done a lot of searching and have not found any evidence for either story but at least the story about the colony in Virginia is written down and I can find the people, just not the story.

The Nordan side is one that I traced to England. (I think. I'm doing this from memory and remember what I said about memories??) Most of the people I found on this side were farmers and stayed in the same general area. I was fortunate to know my great-grandmother on this side. Elsie's mother was Polly Ann Norris and though her birth date was never confirmed, I do have the date she thought it was. She was nearly a hundred when she passed away. I think Jennifer was a baby when Polly died. Both Polly and Elsie were excellent quilters and I was really pleased when I learned how to quilt and could have something else in common with them. I kept in touch with my grandmother more to honor my mother because I knew too many things about her to really like her. Horrible to admit I guess, but it's the truth. Polly on the other hand was a delightful woman and I am glad I got to know her.

Margaret was born fifth of seven children. Her only brother was 13 months younger and they were the closest. When she was 13 she had a really bad year. She had Rheumatic Fever that resulted in a heart murmur and damage that lead to the valve replacement surgery that she died from years later. She also had Bright's Disease. She was sent home to die and was really sick for a while but she got well in spite of their sage advice. After she recovered she went back to school but was a year behind all her friends and never fit back in. Then she fell in love with a boy, found herself pregnant and sent off to an unwed mothers home. The baby died about a month before the due date but the doctors had her wait until she went into labor so she had a period of time ofcarrying around this baby that she knew was already dead. I have no idea why, I only tell you what Mom told me. The baby was a boy. Needless to say, going back to school was no longer an option so she dropped out and went to work.

I'm not going to reveal ALL of the warts on the skeletons in our closet but I will say that my mother did not have good memories of her mother. It disgusted the know-it-all teenager in me to see her trying to win her mother's love and that of her sisters who didn't care about her either. I know times were different and child rearing has changed over the years but one thing even I could see as a child growing up, Mom was the black sheep of the family. Some of her older sisters did things that were horrific and some were even illegal. Yet they were the "good" girls while Mom was the "bad" girl. Basically, Mom got caught and that was her biggest sin. I continued to visit my grandmother until she died yet I do not feel the least bit guilty that I no longer have contact with Mom's sisters. I have cousins that I would love to see and have a relationship with but not enough to go back to the way things were.

My Dad dated one of Mom's sisters and met her that way. He didn't like the way she was treated by her sisters or her mother and knew that Morris was too afraid of Elsie to stand up for Mom. After a few months of seeing Mom, they decided to marry. It all came to a head when he went to the house to pick up Mom for a date and he caught Elsie beating Mom with the cord from an iron. He stopped it and promised that she was never going to lay a hand on Mom again without consequences. If you knew my Dad you also know he didn't say it that nicely either. Personally, if my 16 - 17 year old daughter was dating a man eight years older than her, a man who had just come back from Korea where he served in the Navy???? That is actually one of the things that my Dad listed as why Elsie was a terrible mother.

Attitude

Have you ever wondered if our attitude has any bearing on how our life is lead? Do you ever wonder if that person you know that "everything" that happens "to" him is negative may just need a little attitude adjustment? Don't get me wrong, I know awful things happen to people and they have no control over it. But sometimes, just sometimes, do you think "if they would just look at how lucky they are" instead of "woe is me?"

I know I'm guilty of negative thinking and sometimes it leads to more negative thoughts. I hope that I get better at being positive.

Sometimes the decisions that we make lead to the "bad" things that happen and we just have to accept that this is the way it is and make the best of it. Wallowing in the "woe is me" certainly isn't going to help matters. Looking for the positive and either accepting the consequences or doing something towards making it better is a more pro-active way of life.

OK, my little thought of the day is over. You may go back to your regularly scheduled program.

Bucket List

OK, I watched the movie last night and now I'm wondering what would be on my bucket list. (Things I would want to do before I kicked the bucket.) There would be more travel. To places I've never seen - too many to list. I've been working on a list like that for a while now. I want to visit as many LDS temples as possible as well as all the states in the US. Thanks to wandering children, I'm doing pretty good on both of those lists.

I guess I'm pretty boring because my list would also have:
- visit my grandchildren every month.
- get my house in complete order. (HA!)
- scrapbook all my pictures.

There are a few that are too personal to put on a blog but overall my list would be pretty short in the "most important" things because I feel like I've done a good job with my life. I've loved and been loved. My children are all married to wonderful people and my grandchildren are - well, they just are!

So - let's see if anyone reads this blog. Name at least one thing that would be on YOUR bucket list. Either comment here or send me an email. I really want to know.

Can You Explain This?

Today I was driving on a two lane road that curved so often that most of the 10 mile stretch that I drive on is "No Passing". I could see that the folks ahead of me (3 cars ahead) were swerving into the other lane. So I slow down. I know, what a novel idea that is - to slow down when you see folks in front of you having problems. Go figure. The line of cars behind me are in my back seat and not being polite about it either. So - I get to the problem area and it is a medium sized cedar tree limb, maybe three feet long and the circumference is two inches max. I do what I think is the right thing and pull off the road, walk back and get the dumb limb and pull it off the road. Takes less than a minute and we are no longer trying to have a wreck on the busy road.

Now here is my question. WHY WAS I THE FIRST ONE TO GET THIS IDEA??? There I am in a dress, hose and heels and can get out and move the limb but everyone else is too - too what? Busy? In a hurry? Indifferent to the danger to other motorists? WHAT??!!

When I asked this question to others, it turns out that I did something extraordinary. Turns out that I am the crazy person for caring. Is our society that far gone?

PS: Just so you know how insane I am - I've done this before. Better lock me up now before I save someone's life.

Pictures and My Week

Well, It took me a week but I finally posted a lot of pictures on the Ferrell Family Blog. Take a look when you have the chance.

This past week has been horrible. Pain, exhaustion and just when I thought I'd got enough rest - more exhaustion. For a problem that has an actual name and has been proven to be real and not "all in my head", it's still hard to convince myself that I'm not just a lazy bum. However, this week sold me. I couldn't have run for my life if someone had a gun to my head and said RUN! I could barely get out of bed to go to the bathroom much less eat or take the dog for her walks. Maybe that's the other thing that convinces me I've been sick. Willow hasn't driven me insane to go for walks. She has stayed right with me and has been mostly a good dog. Notice I said mostly. She has entertained herself with trash from the garbage can. SIGH! Billy Goat Dog, that's what she is.

Reunion

I'm stressed but excited. Tomorrow (today) the reunion starts. I haven't done what I wanted to get done before I leave (big surprise) and can't sleep (nuther surprise) and seem to be getting nothing accomplished. OK, so all is normal with me!

I'm thrilled that 1/6 of my grandchildren (or 2/7) will be there and 2/8 of my kids. I'm taking the monster so that should be fun too. I'm taking cards with hopes of getting a game of Crazy Rummy going. Wanna take any bets on whether it will happen? Oh, well.

I will put pictures on the Ferrell Family blog as so as I can. Ta Ta For Now

Chihuahuas

Even five years ago, if you had told me I would own a Chihuahua, much less love the rascal - well, let's just say - you would have been on your way to the looney bin. Now here I am maintaining a blog for my Chihuahua and loving the life I have with this 5 1/2 pound ball of energy.

Now my Willow's Mom and Dad have a new litter of pups and I want all of them. Fortunately I have better sense than actually acting on that thought - but still. If you have not checked out Willow's Adventures lately, click on the link on the left side of this blog and go see Willow's new brother and sisters. So cute!

PS: If I didn't already know that I was nutty for the dogs, today would have proven it. I went to the movies tonight and saw a preview for a movie: Beverly Hills Chihuahua. As I watched the trailer with absolute glee, a part of me recognized that I'm insane. SIGH

Miracles

Today is a day to celebrate a few miracles. My children, (my oldest turns 31 today), my grandchildren (Tyler had his 1st b-day party today, with his daddy), friends (one picked me up on the way out of town so we could go to a baptism), my church (see last note) and miracles themselves. This day celebrates a true miracle with Sam.

Sam was four years old and was diagnosed with a horrible disease. His treatments were horrible and this little trooper was in Duke Hospital for a long time. That's how we met. His family belongs to the same church as me in a town a couple of hours away. Sam and his mom were going to be at Duke for a long time so someone in his church contacted someone in my church and a few friends and I went to the hospital to meet Sam. We fell in love with this courageous young man. I would tease him and tell him he was my boyfriend and I would stay with him in his room while other friends would take his mom out to shop or eat or just get out of the hospital. I think I watched "The Emperor's New Groove" and "Garfield" a gazillion times. We called this our "dates".

Anyway to make a long story a tad bit shorter, today Sam turned 8 and was baptized tonight. He was so sick four years ago and there were times I wasn't sure he was going to make it to his fifth birthday, much less his 8th. Through my church and a very sick little boy, God showed me one of his miracles. I am so grateful to Him for watching over Sam and his family.


PS: Just in case you are interested - he's still the best boyfriend ever!

Under 21 May NOT Read.

Secrets will be spilled - so beware.

I am used to living alone and most of the time I am ok with it. True, the plan was to be enjoying these years with Robbie after all the kids had moved away. Since I had three children when I met him, we had never been "alone" and able to enjoy the romance of being just the two of us. We didn't mind because we knew that one day we would have that time. Things didn't work out that way.

Two things I HATE is having to keep up the maintenance of a house and MOWING THE YARD. Years ago after several bad asthma attacks and allergic reactions that that resulted in serious respiratory infections - my doctor told me flat out - Do Not Cut Your Grass! Easier said than done. I can't afford a professional lawn care service and the few kids that cut grass grow up and I'm stuck - again. I finally found a guy who has done it for a couple of years but he doesn't seem to be doing it anymore. Years of search and here I go again. My grass has gotten totally out of hand.

After a months of looking for someone I can afford, I gave up and for the last week I have gone outside, using my electric mower, and cut a swatch of grass about 8' x 8'. By that point I need an inhaler and have to stop. The medicine always makes me shaky and wipes me out for a few hours. I go in, shower (allergies, remember?), go to bed with a fan blowing on me until I can move again. This isn't a very fast or effective way to cut the grass but "you gotta do, what you gotta do".

Now for the kicker. Someone who knows me and how this affects me found out I was cutting my grass and was appalled. She started chewing me out for not taking care of myself and why on earth was I doing this when I knew how bad it was for me????

OK folks, I know this is going to come as a huge surprise to you and you are going to be sooooo disappointed. The Grass-Cutting Fairy" does not exist. Brace yourself, there's more. The Easter Bunny? Nope - made up. Tooth Fairy? Oops, sorry! The Great Pumpkin still hasn't visited Linus yet and hold onto your seats, guys, this next one will be tough. Santa Claus is not a real person.

So, I'm cutting my own grass 8' at a time, dealing with huge limbs as they fall from the dead tree, ignoring the falls leaves and don't give a royal flip about how the house looks as long as it doesn't fall down around me. I have three bathrooms and only one toilet working. I only need one so who cares??

Grass-Cutting Fairies are a nice thought and who knows one day there might even be a holiday created for him. Can you feel my frustration coming though???????

One more note - lots of folks say that I should sell my house and move to a smaller place. That would take an enormous amount of work to get the house ready to sell and I don't want to do the work. Shoot me.

My Newest Grandchild

Lisa felt like she was pregnant forever and seemed to be in labor way too often so when I talked to the baby (over the phone - through the belly - don't laugh, if I can talk to cars and stuff I can talk to unborn grandchildren!) I told her she couldn't come at least until my birthday. So she did! Reba Michelle was born at 10:40 pm on April 29th. She weighed 7 lbs. 4 oz. and was 20 inches long. Not bad for two weeks early, hunh? Lisa and Ken said that she has black hair (just like her mommy did when she was born). Lisa is drugged up and being watched but is feeling no pain at the moment, hehehehe.

Welcome to the World, my littlest sweetheart.

As soon as I get pictures they will be posted.

Warning, Weird Mood

OK, I watched a movie that has me thinking. IF you knew what would happen when you had a choice to make and even though it would end in a way that would make you sad but with years of happiness before then - would you still make that choice. This character has an experience and knows that the person she loves is going to die young. She has two choices. Stop now before she is too vulnerable and change so that she's not there when he dies OR grab that brass ring and take the happiness now, knowing it will end soon.

I guess pain is part of life. If we shield ourselves from pain by not experiencing life then maybe that's not living. Told you I was in a weird mood.

Hiccups, Insomnia and Me

I really would like to go to sleep. I have this dumb quirk where I tend to have insomnia around the anniversary of deaths of folks I love and right now is a year since my brother died. I tell myself it's not going to happen and it ignores me. To make matters worse, I've had an ongoing case of hiccups. Ever tried to sleep while your body jerks uncontrollably every few seconds? ARGH! So the loud scream you hear around 4 am for the last few nights? Yep, that's me.

My Visitor

Today, (ok, yesterday but don't you have to go to bed before it becomes tomorrow?) I had a very impressive up close and personal visit with nature's beauty.

Have you every seen a bird catch his reflection in a window and either preen to it or fight with it? It's pretty cool to see. I have a large plate glass window in my house and this evening about 2 hours before the sun set a bird tapped on the window. I turned around and thought it was a small owl since I have a gazillion owls in my trees. I went over to the window and saw the bird was a hawk. He wasn't full grown - probably an adolescent - but was still pretty big. He had flown onto a bakers rack I have on my porch and was admiring that pretty bird in the window. My chihuahua was totally freaked out and making some serious noise from my side of the window and this bird didn't care. He was too busy loving the bird in the window. I was on the other side of a sheet of glass from the most magnificent specimen of nature's beauty I have ever seen. It was breathtaking.

I wanted to take a picture but was afraid he would fly away if I went outside. The picture wouldn't work inside so I quietly went around the house to try to catch his image. Of course he flew away into a yard nearby and screeched his little heart out at my interference with his loving display of the bird in the window. Still, I was awed at my chance for an up close and personal.

Yellow, What an Irritating Color!

Saturday was a good day for this time of year. I picked up my camera to go take a picture just for this blog and decided it was a waste of time. If you know what I'm talking about you don't need the picture and if you don't have a clue what I'm talking about, then the picture couldn't come close to explaining the phenomenon.

For the past couple of weeks, everything outside has turned yellow or been effected by the yellow. My dark blue car looked green, white things were yellow and dark things were just icky. You could feel the grit on your face and hands and no matter how many times you wash, it always seems to be there. The grit was in your mouth and rinsing is something you do often. Make up is a joke for me because I wipe and/or wash it off almost immediately so I go without the color and stuff. I do moisturize a lot as well as use foundation to protect my skin from the grit and icky.

Now the "experts" will tell you that the yellow you see is pine pollen and it is too large to make you have an allergic reaction. Those of us that think those folks are insane deal with grit in the eyes, watering eyes, runny nose, coughing and sneezing. I only have one pine in my yard and tons of oaks and I think the oak trees are part of the problem too but what the heck, I'm not the expert - just the sufferer.

This brings me to why Saturday was so good. It rained. A nice steady rain that washed that nasty stuff into puddles that had the yellow floating on top and not on my skin. Yippee! It's still too early to tell if the worst if over but I walked without tissues today. SIGH!

My Surprise

I've know for years that there is a park near where I grew up. It's a cool neighborhood park and is perfect for walking a dog (and taking pictures of grandchildren playing). My surprise that I somehow missed after years of going there is this - they added a trail a few years ago and they are slowly making this trail into a nice walking area. Why would this mean anything to me? You'll see.

We moved to the area when I was 7 and my brother, Scott, was 5. Times were different then and we had run of the neighborhood long before it would have happened today. The nearby creek next to the golf course was a magnet for us. During the warm months, we may as well have lived there. We would get up, eat breakfast, fix our lunch and not come back until it was time for dinner. Since I cooked that dinner for most of my growing up years, it isn't as bad as it sounds.

We blazed trails into the dense woods and underbrush along the creek. We waded and played in that creek until we were wrinkled. We built dams so we would have a swimming area for a little while. At the end of the day the sewage plant upstream would send excess water out and everything would be knocked down. (The mother in me that cringes at what I'm writing is cowering over in the corner and will not be heard from at this time.) We had favorite rocks that became our place to spend the day. Once I became a "reading fool" I would take a book and a towel or blanket and set up for a lazy day with my feet in the water and the sun on my shoulders. I had a couple of friends in the neighborhood that would hang out with me.

Scott was never that calm or still. He was constantly into something. He and his friend Stevie would build camps and play along the creek all day. There was sounds coming from their mouths that I couldn't have made if someone put a gun to my head. Of course, that was one of the sounds they made so I wouldn't have known about the gun anyway. Scott started this lucrative little business that kept us in candy and drinks. He (and I would help sometimes) would dig through the sand everyday for golf balls that the idiots at the course upstream would hit into the creek and either leave there because they didn't want to get wet or they couldn't find it. He would separate them into "classes" . The balls that were perfect were sought after by these same idiots and were more than willing to pay this scrawny little boy. The lesser classed balls were just as sought after but didn't bring as much money. Some guys would get mad because Scott was selling them their own balls but hey - it was found on public land not on the golf course. We weren't stealing the balls. Remember that excess water I was telling you about? Yep, brought those balls right down to our playing area.

It is almost a year since my brother died and I've decided to help improve the trail we used to play on as children in his honor as well as part of happy memories of my childhood. I'm researching what plants are native and non-invasive so I can clean areas of stuff that needs to go -(wisteria, ivy, poisonous plants and so forth) and plant stuff that will grow and be a good tribute. There will be no plaque, no signs and I'm doing this anonymously, not through the organization that is doing the renovations. Just like we used to play and get in trouble sometimes. on my own without anyone knowing. We used to clear brush and make it a nice place for us to play, now others will get to play too.

One more note about this area that my children and grandchildren should not read - stop reading! You HEARD me! When we missed the bus for school we hated going back to the house and telling Dad. We lived a long way from the school and it really wasn't all that convenient to take us out there. So if we had already pushed the limit - we would go to the creek and hang out under the bridge for a few hours and then go back home when Dad was at work and Mom was asleep (she worked 3rd shift and read for a few hours before going to sleep). I became quite the little expert at both Mom's and Dad's names. Not that I'm bragging or anything, but it's ok to tell you since my kids and grandkids aren't reading this part, right?

Overheard Conversation

Grandmother on the phone with her daughter. Grandson/Son at her feet.

Grandmother says, "John, your mother says hello and to tell you that she loves you to infinity."

John says, raising his voice so his mother will hear him, "Tell her I love her to infinity and beyond.

Grandmother says to daughter on the phone, " I think he's got ya on that one. He wins."

John says to grandmother, "I think we all win."

What a smart child. What a lucky family. Well, maybe not luck. Someone had to teach him to be that perceptive.

Number 6

What a pretty Mama. Hi Reba! Love you bunches!

Blog Happy

I have two more blogs as you may have noticed. Photo Art by Gramama is photos I like and want to share with anyone who is interested. Dress It Up is what I should be writing a book on - cooking for the single person, the lazy person and for the person who loves to cook but hates to clean the dishes afterward.

Being Gramama

I am soooooooo blessed.

For some reason, I’ve always believed that I wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy being Gramama. It might have to do with the fact that after Robbie died my prayers every day included that I be able to live long enough to see my children grown and self-reliant. I kinda feel like I’m living through the icing on the cake. That icing is grandchildren.

Even though I don’t get to be with them all the time, I can talk to them on the phone and hear about them through blogs, pictures and so forth. IT IS GREAT!

I was able to spend some time with Tyler on Friday and I was in hog heaven. He is such a sweet spirit. He giggled, smiled, laughed and told me all about Pepper (Pep Pa), his dog. I had a wonderful time and I think he did too.

To the parents of my wonderful grandchildren, the grandchildren who are here now and those who will be here in the future, thank you for letting me be Gramama and enjoy the icing on my cake. I love you!

Self Worth

Recently I have had basically the same conversation with 4 different women. This concerns me for several reasons. One - How do they recognize me as someone with the same affliction? Two - How many women feel this way and DON'T verbalize their feelings? Three - How do we deal with the problem?

The basics of these conversations deal with how they see themselves and whether they are worthy for the blessings they already receive and how they feel "out of sync" with the people they are with on a daily basis. The "I don't belong" Syndrome is a very real problem and needs to be addressed. The next little bit is not me or any one person but is a composite of some of the things I've heard from others and some of it is from me.

I am an intelligent woman. I know that I deserve a good, happy life. I know that I am a good and honest person who strives to do my best for me and for others. Yet I feel that I don't belong - anywhere. I feel so alone. I try so hard to serve others and want to be loved. Yet I feel unworthy of the good things that happen to me and feel guilty sometimes when I see people I deem more righteous, more worthy, just MORE - and those good people are dealing with trials that they don't deserve. Sometimes I wonder why those around me don't point their fingers at me and whisper about why I am included in their group. There have been times that others have hurt my feelings by making comments they think are innocent of harm yet cut me to the core. Surely I am not lovable, I am not comfortable being with those that I associate with and respect. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?

Now before my family sends me to a different therapist and/or locks me away - These are observations of some of those around me, so put the net down.

Is it the way we are brought up? Is it the pressures that women have that men will never understand? Is it in the water? And once again - HOW do they know that I'm in the club with them? The most important question - What do we do to help ourselves?

One more quote

Jacquelyn Mitchard said,

"Cats regard people as warm furniture." I actually agree with this as well as the fact that cats think that humans only purpose on earth is to operate the can opener. HOWEVER, I would like to change the quote just a tad. . .

My chihuahua regards me as a warm blanket and a place to snuggle when sleeping. You can quote me on that!

Musings

There is a quote from Anna Quindlen that I ran across again today. "Think of life as a terminal illness, because if you do, you will live it with joy and passion, as it ought to be lived." If you think about it for a minute, what does it say to you?

In the past 15 years I have been to so many funerals that I can no longer count them. Most of them were friends and family that I felt had died "too soon". For one thing, they expected many more years to do the things they wanted to accomplish in life. Some of them had at least a little notice but some woke up that morning expecting to go back to their own bed that night. We aren't guaranteed warning. We actually got that when we came to earth in the beginning. I can imagine how it went. (Give me a little leeway, it's imagined, ok?)

There I was all excited for my next adventure. I was going to Earth! I was going to get a body, as a baby, of course. My coach in Heaven was prepping me for my trip and made sure I had everything I needed. As I'm getting ready to leave, she said, "Remember, dear. Your time on Earth is very short. Don't waste your time on goofy things. Get all the knowledge, memories and happiness you can cram into that life. This is your warning and you won't get another one. Now have fun and I'll see you when you get back." I got my hug and took off for Earth.

I do know some of those that died had felt a sense of urgency in their last few years. The best example is my mother. As she was getting weaker but before she was too weak to do anything, she took two courses to accomplish two things she had always wanted to do. She took an EMT course and an American Sign Language Course. When she was finished she was qualified to do both. She did something about her goals in life. Admirable.

Two of the things I have wanted to do and am slowly working on - I want to visit (and attend a session) in as many temples as I possible can. I also want to visit as much of the United States as possible (and any other part of the world). I'm hoping to add to these two "things accomplished" lists each year. Actually, since my kids have moved all over the place, they have helped me. Cool, hunh?

Easter Sunday = Duke Gardens

Self Portrait
I was carrying a quilt, a bag with dog toys, treats, my phone, camera stuff and so forth. Can you tell?

When I was a child we had the Family Reunion on Easter Weekend. Part of the tradition was to dress up in your Easter clothes and everybody pile into cars and go to Duke Gardens to admire the spring flowers and take pictures. This tradition was continued even after the reunions switched to a different weekend and different place. It was just something we did.
Today it was just Willow and me so I thought I would send Duke Gardens to you. If you haven't been lately you should go back if you get the chance. It has grown tremendously and is changing every year. Bryan and I went several times while he was sick and I haven't been there in nearly a year. I was surprised at the changes just from last year. Enjoy and Happy Easter.

Once Upon A Time . . .

Many, many years ago, there was a young woman raising three very small children by herself during a not very pleasant divorce. It was the first Easter that the Easter Bunny would be coming to the house with the help of one parent instead of two. This woman was tired all the time because of working a full time job and working as a full time mom of a 4 month old, a two year old and a four year old. To help the EB do his job this lady had prepared by purchasing a bunch of candy and gifts, green grass and baskets for the children of the household. She placed these things in a little shed outside the house, way up high so the kids wouldn't find them before the EB could put everything together and place the completed baskets for the children to find on Easter morning. All was ready and the woman was pleased to be so prepared.

The morning of Easter - or the night before, however you look at 3:30 am, this woman was sound asleep and dreaming sweet dreams. Suddenly, this woman went from sound asleep to standing on her feet with her heart beating a million miles an hour. OH MY GOODNESS! She forgot it was Easter and had not gotten up to let the EB in the house! She rushed outside in the cold night in her pajamas. Like a crazy person she got the baskets down (I guess the EB must has put them together?) and rushed inside to place the baskets for the EB. Of course, by that time the adrenalin was pumping and sleep would not come for the weary.

Easter morning the children woke to find the EB's work and they lived happily ever after.