Tuesday, October 30, 2007
I stretched my arms up, noticed a bruise and asked her why she hurt me. She maintained her innocence.
I asked lil man, "Did you hurt me?"
"How can you be sure?"
"I don't hurt old people."
PS: His mom did make him apologize for being rude.
I seriously thought about letting y'all know that I love kids and dogs but I thought you might already have figured that out. So, without revealing enough to let the phishers steal me, here goes:
1. I could, at one time, shoot Jose Cuervo like you would NOT believe (27 in one night was the record and no, I did not get sick). Practice does make perfect.
2. I love to drive REALLY fast. I know it's not safe, etc. I don't do it as often as I used to. I just love to drive REALLY fast!
3. My most embarassing moment? Sophomore year of high school, hiding behind the curtains on the stage in the gym/auditorium with some friends watching the guys practice basketball. Does anybody else remember when basketball shorts were short? The stage lights were at the front of the stage with some sort of wooden, hinged covers. Yep, fell through the stage lights, got stuck, and the team coach, with all of the team standing around, had to help me out.
4. My nickname as a child was "faucet face". Go figure.
5. I am scared to death of fire.
6. My natural hair color is actually pretty close to the color I used to dye it all the time. For years, I tried to get the color I already had. What a dingdong. Maybe it was looking in the mirror with those Jose Cuervo eyes.
7. I was raised Catholic, deserted the Church for 28 years (of course I thought they had deserted me) and when I reverted, went to confession. The church did not explode, Father's head did not spin around, and he still looks at me when he talks to me. Life is good.
OK, I am now supposed to tag 7 people. So check your comments, folks. Be afraid, be very afraid.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
I always carry a purse. It contains the usual junk – a wallet, 2 checkbooks, a nail file, 3 sets of keys, 2 phones, old receipts, numerous pens, none of which I can find when I need to write something, letters, stamps, rosary beads, and often a paperback book.
I work in an office but a lot of my work is done outside. I am in and out for the better part of the day. I leave my purse either in my office or locked in my car. I carry the absolute necessities in my pants pockets. My, how feminine that sounds!
Anyway, my left rear pocket is empty. My right rear pocket has money in it. My right front pocket has 2 sets of keys (1 for the office building and 1 for the exterior padlocks on the fences). My left front pocket has these:
These beads were first made popular by St. Therese of Lisieux (the Little Flower). St. Therese believed that there is no act that is small if it is offered to God and joined with the sacrifice of our Lord. Before she made her First Communion, her older sister gave her beads such as these so that she could keep track of all of her little sacrifices.
It is not really scorekeeping; it just brings me to a greater awareness of and union with God. These beads, which, since there are ten of them, can also double as a rosary in a pinch, are what I always have with me.
They are my touchstone during a busy day and a reminder of who I truly am.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
I woke up in the middle of the night in labor. My mom worked graveyard shift at the local hospital and my dad was at home. The hospital I needed to go to (insurance issues, don't you know?) was 60 miles away in the BIG CITY. There was NO way I was waking my Dad, the functioning alcoholic, horrible, terrible driver with the dirty, nasty, used for construction, reeking of beer and cigarette smoke pickup truck to drive me to the hospital.
It was a little after 6. Mom got off at 7. All would be fine.
I forgot that it was the day Mom got her hair done.
Mom got home between 10 and 11 and asked how long I'd been up. I told her since 6:34. She asked how long I'd been in labor. I told her a while longer than that.
Did I mention that I was in labor with my first child for 4 hours?
We got in the car - the 3 day old Ford Grenada. If you do not remember the Grenada, it is because God loves you. This car was SO underpowered it was unbelievable. My mother had always driven big Fords - big gas-guzzling Ford V8s that could GO! Then my first husband was killed in a car accident, we all lost our minds temporarily and went for safety and conservatism and really crappy cars. Anyway, as we were driving to the Big City, me with very little sleep and Mom with no sleep, she kept telling me that if I ruined her upholstery, she would kill me and I kept telling her to put her foot in it then and it wouldn't be a problem and a Volkswagen Beetle, a friggin' VW Bug, passed us. It was mortifying.
We got to the hospital. They checked me over, told me I was not in labor and to go home. I told them I was in labor and that, since home was 60 miles away, I was not going home. They very snottily decided to put me in a labor room and said that they would check on me in a few hours.
Mom made sure that I was settled and went to lay down for just a bit in the waiting room. This, obviously, in the days before "birthing suites". Well, long story short, 3 hours later they came back to check on me and barely had time to wake Mom up.
They wheeled me into delivery and the same rocket scientist who had decreed that I was not in labor was exhorting me to "Wait till I get my gloves on!" He got his gloves on and my mother got there just in time to welcome the child of my heart.
Happy Birthday, Baby. Know that you are loved.
Friday, October 26, 2007
I have been so wrapped up in myself that I forgot to say THANK YOU!
I also forgot to pass it on but better late than never! And it's not yet All Hallow's Eve so I think I'm still all right.
Without further ado, (I almost just typed without further adieu, what the heck?), I am passing this wonderful little guy on to:
Crystal at Boobs, Injuries and Dr. Pepper for making me snort coffee through my nose on more than one occasion - and for making my WalMart look normal.
Junebug at God Put A Smile Upon My Face because the name of her blog always puts a smile on my face, too.
Presumptions of danger
While dressing this morning, the ABC news was on. There was a bit about the police and how they forced this pregnant woman to the ground and how they (the police) then decided to “cover it up”.
I was unaware until I looked the incident up online that it occurred in July.
I am sure that this woman was frightened, shocked, and scared. She has my sympathy.
So do the officers involved.
What I know after listening to the GMA coverage:
JC Penney called the police dept and told the dispatcher that a green jeep was just leaving that had been involved in stealing cars from the JCP lot. The caller gave the license plate and the owner’s name. The officers pulled the vehicle over and forced the woman at gunpoint to lie on the ground. When they realized that the vehicle they had stopped was not the suspect vehicle for which they were looking, they helped her up, apologized profusely, engaged her in conversation, and assisted her until such time as she was calm enough to drive. They then got in their patrol car and began plotting a cover-up.
What I know after reading the newspaper accounts and listening to the 911 recordings:
An employee of JCPenney called the Police Department and told the dispatcher that a green jeep was just leaving that had been involved in stealing cars from the JCP lot. The caller gave the license plate. The dispatcher ran the plate for wants, warrants, and registration. She dispatched the call and provided the officers with the registration information. The officers saw the vehicle, activated their emergency lights and affected a stop on the vehicle. Per procedure on any felony stop that I have EVER heard about, the officers, for their own safety, did not approach the vehicle. They directed the driver to get out and, again for their own protection from a suspected felon (and yes, pregnant women have committed felonies), directed the driver to assume a prone position on the shoulder of the road.
This is an audio clip of the original call to dispatch and the dispatch of the call to the officers:
This is an audio/video clip of the traffic stop from the video camera in the officer's patrol vehicle:
They checked the vehicle for other occupants and determined that there were two children in the backseat. The officer was very polite and attempted to comfort the children. As soon as he determined that he had the wrong vehicle, he apologized, more than once.
At no time did the officers involved display any other than professional conduct.
They did NOT stop the vehicle because the driver was black.
They did NOT have the driver assume a prone position because she was black.
They stopped the vehicle because they had information, through their dispatcher, that the vehicle was possibly involved in a felony.
They had the driver assume a prone position because they had reason to believe that she was possibly involved in a felony.
Yes, one of the officers made a comment, once in the patrol car, about covering their ass. CYA, as it is commonly known in police and other circles, is NOT the same as a cover-up. It is beyond me how anyone, given the existence of dispatch tapes and video from the patrol car, can even begin to believe that there is, or was, a cover-up.
Now for the soapbox:
The public hears these stories and assumes that the citizen is right. We all, and I include myself for the most part, look at people with a perception of goodness. We presume that most people are good.
The police must, for their own safety and for ours, look at people a little differently. They must, for their own safety and for ours, presume, especially during a felony traffic stop, that there is danger.
I actually speak from personal experience in this case and from both sides simultaneously.
In 1976, I was pregnant with my youngest child. I was employed, as a dispatcher, by a Police Department. I was traveling with my husband, in our pickup truck, on the freeway. Unbeknownst to us, a bank robbery had occurred about 70 miles north. The suspect vehicle description matched ours. We were pulled over on the highway. My husband (the son of a highway patrolman and a reserve police officer for the same department for which I worked) was, exactly as in the above referenced video, directed to keep his hands in view, drop the keys, exit the vehicle, back toward the officer and assume a prone position on the ground. I was directed likewise (minus the key deal) once he was on the ground. Only when we were both secured and identified did the officers release us and apologize.
We did not sue.
We did drive our other car for about a week!
My point is that the police are not always wrong. They are not always right. Just because they stop a driver, who is black, does not mean that they stopped a driver because he/she is black. They can only do the best that they can do, which is usually damn good, based on the information that they have. I think, in this case, that is exactly what they did.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Anyway, it was Thursday morning a week ago. On Wednesday nights, I teach 5th grade C.F.C.(Christian Formation Classes) at my church and he attends the 2nd grade class at the same church.
I asked him what he had learned the previous evening and he told me that they learned about saints. I asked him what saints were and he told me that they were holy people who were dead. Close enough for a 7 year old.
He asked me what my class had learned the previous evening. I told him that we were learning about how God "is now, was then, and always will be."
He thought about this for a minute and then, just like my class, asked me who made God. I told him that God wasn't made - that He always has been.
Lil man asked me if God made Himself out of dust. I explained that that was impossible since God, already in existance, made the dust. I told him that some things are not understandable, that you just have to have faith.
He said OK.
A couple of minutes later, he asked about God's mom. Didn't God's mom exist before God?
I explained to him that while Jesus was born of Mary, God had no mother.
but lucky, lucky me.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Lil man and I had planned, tonight, to clean out Buddy's crate and put it in Julie's pickup so we could pick Mae up tomorrow afternoon.
The vet just called.
They had a cancellation, so the surgery was today. Mae is fine. We will still pick her up tomorrow so that she can rest tonight.
There were 9 puppies.
Now, there are no puppies. There will never be puppies. Mae can come home - or at least back to the wrecking yard next to me where she lives.
We will still feed her. We will still love her. She will still wander off and roam the neighborhood.
She will not bring more unwanted puppies into this world.
Thank all of you so much for your support.
PS: The doctor used dissolvable stitches because we are NEVER gonna get our hands on this dog again.
PPS: The bill was less than 1/2 of what I thought it would be!
I have been neglecting my news reading since I started getting more involved in the ever-growing circle of blogs that I now read daily.
Today, I wanted to read about the California fires. We have friends and family living in the area. I went to the website for the San Francisco Chronicle. It is the newspaper that, when I was growing up north of San Francisco, we used to get on Sunday mornings on our way home from Mass.
While my political views are no longer exactly mirrored by this publication, it is still a newspaper that I trust.
There was, indeed, a lot of very good coverage on the fire(s).
Then, partway down the front page, were the AP headlines.
Art Masterpiece Found in Trash
Parents Drown in Water Rescue
6 Elephants Electrocuted in India
Dad Accused of Meth Sippy Cup
I think that instead of reading these stories, I will just pray for all involved and go back to my nice, friendly circle of blogs.
Sunday, October 21, 2007
Saturday, October 20, 2007
Friday, October 19, 2007
Thursday, October 18, 2007
This wonderful idea originated at Hootin' Anni's. Hootin' Anni takes Hallowe'en (and kindness) to a whole new level.
So, paying this forward, per the original instructions, found here (just scroll down), I am giving this to:
Nikki at Simplicity
The Arkansas Songbird at Quarter Notes
and, last but not least
Julie at Ooh, a Shiny Pen
I do so appreciate a Hallowe'en treat that does NOT end up on my hips! I am about to declare the Hershey Company (did you know Hershey makes Godiva chocolates?) as my personal anti-Christ. No, wait, that's just my lack of won't power. I won't buy that chocolate. I won't eat that chocolate.
Anyway, thanks, ChrisB. I really did need that this morning.
The alcohol in the cake cooks off but the booze in the glaze doesn't. Feel free to adjust the amount of vodka in the glaze.
Harvey Wallbanger Cake
1 pkg. (2 layer size) orange cake mix
1 pkg. (3 3/4 oz.) instant vanilla pudding mix
1/2 c. cooking oil
1/2 c. orange juice
1/2 c. Galliano
2 T. vodka
1 c. powdered sugar
1 T. orange juice
1 T. Galliano
1 t. vodka
In large mixer bowl, combine cake mix and pudding mix. Add the eggs, oil, the 1/2 c orange juice, the 1/2 c Galliano and the 2 T. vodka.
Beat on low speed for 1/2 minute; beat on medium speed for 5 minutes, scraping bowl frequently.
Pour into greased and floured 10" bundt pant; bake in 350 degree oven for 45 minutes. Or, pour into 2 greased and floured 9" round cake pants; bake in 350 degree oven for 30 minutes.
Cool in pan(s) 10 minutes; remove to rack and pour on glaze while cake is still warm.
To make glaze: combine all ingredients.
NOTE: If serving this to active alcoholics, you can make enough glaze to fill the well of the bundt cake. That way nobody's cake is too dry (or so I've heard).
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
|Your English Skills:|
I took my other dog, Holly, to the vet yesterday and, while we were there, spoke to him about Mae. He had no suggestions but his assistant suggested that I call the city's animal control officer (he does not handle animal problems in the county unless it is a vicious dog). She thought he could shoot Mae with a tranquilizer and then we could get her to the vet.
I called him. He cannot tranq a dog who is not vicious. He suggested calling the sheriff's office.
I did. They suggested calling the animal control officer.
This is all just so deja vu. Went thought this not too long ago with a neighbor's horse.
He did suggest trapping Mae and then the sheriff's could call him and he would dispose of her. He said to call the Sheriff's Office and get a trap. I called. They have no traps. They're not sure what happened to them. They are gonna try and borrow one from the Animal Control Officer and then call me so I can pick it up. No one has any suggestions on how to make sure it is Mae in the trap.
So, once I have Mae in the trap, I will not call Animal Control to dispose of her. I will take her to the vet. the puppies will be aborted, and she will be spayed.
I love dogs. I love puppies. You literally cannot give away a dog in this town or a puppy. I cannot keep the puppies.
I am certain in my heart that God has a special treat for the assholes who do this to dogs and to those of us who love them. Otherwise, I would hunt them down and do unspeakable things to them.
Update on the update: The Sheriff's Office called. They can borrow a trap from the ACO but a deputy has to do it and then the deputy and the ACO and I all have to meet so that this can be handled. There are no deputies available but when there is, they will call me, and if the ACO is available and I can get off work, this will work. Hurray!
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Last year, some ignorant coward dumped a litter of 5 puppies at the business next to my house. My house was not there at the time, but it is now. 3 of the puppies were run over in the street but 2 survived. The guys at the wrecking yard put out food for the dogs when they thought about it.
When we moved in, we started feeding Maggie and Mae. They hang out at the wrecking yard or in our front yard with our dogs.
Maggie is a sweetheart. She is very friendly and touchable.
Mae is not. She IS a sweetheart and she would like to be friendly and touchable. She just cannot make herself let us touch her. She will sidle up to you and whine and whimper and follow you around and just darn near break your heart. She just won't let you touch her.
The only reason this is a problem is because puppies grow up to become dogs.
A little over a month ago, my daughter took Maggie to the vet and had her spayed. She would have had Mae done at the same time, but Mae will not come to anyone.
Mae came into heat, every male dog within 10 miles was at the wrecking yard (their Saint Bernard came into heat at the same time), and Mae is "with puppies".
Hence the quandary. What do I do?
I already own 3 dogs. I take care of 3 others. The county in which I reside does not have a shelter or an Animal Control Officer. I cannot get hold (literally) of Mae to take her to the vet. I cannot imagine, OK, unfortunately, yes, I can imagine, what will happen to the pups.
The most obvious, the one that sounds the worst but is probably the most humane, is to put her down. Given her refusal to let us touch her, this would entail shooting her. My heart is breaking and I can no longer think clearly.
Monday, October 15, 2007
I pulled out numerous old bank slips, receipts, etc. along with some tampons, condoms, and sunscreen.
Hurray, all those lectures on preparedness, safety, and protection did take hold!
I was putting all of those things back in the console so that I could give them to her later when the principal opened the car door so that my grandson could get in.
|Your Karaoke Theme Song is "Margaritaville"|
You are a true party animal, but your style is mild and chill.
Kicking back with a few friends and a few drinks is all you need to be happy.
You certainly don't feel pressured to be a part of any party scene. In fact, you avoid trendier spots.
You've been known to kick loose anywhere and everywhere. All you need is a cooler.
You might also sing: "Gin and Juice," "Love Shack," and "Red Red Wine"
Stay away from people who sing: "Wind Beneath My Wings"
I had my days off in the middle of the week. So did my best friend. We lived 35 miles apart. On Wednesdays, I would drive 45 miles and she would drive 10 miles and we would meet in a little town that had a very nice bar with a terrific grill and an outstanding bartender.
So, my friend and I (let’s call her Kim) were sitting at a table one night when this guy walked in wearing leathers. Kimmie said, oh look, a biker. I looked up and said, “That’s not a biker, that’s Terry Brawler. If you want to see a biker you ought to meet my sister’s’ neighbor. Now, that’s a biker.”
Please bear in mind that we did not date bikers. We dated cops, navy pilots, firemen, well, you get the idea. Kimmie was just intrigued by bikers. Me, I had known the Big Bad Biker (BBB) for about 4 years. He was just my sister’s neighbor. Besides that, he was blond. I didn’t date blonds. Besides that, he didn’t have a car. I dated cars. Besides that, I was seriously involved with someone totally inappropriate.
Anyway, I called BBB and invited him down for a drink. He had the motor out of his friend’s car and couldn’t get away. He said to give him a call the next week.
I did. He was still working on the motor and suggested I call the next week.
Kiss my butt, that wasn’t gonna happen. I did NOT get turned down and/or ignored twice and then try again. No way, no how.
The next Wednesday came, dinner was eaten, a drink or two or ten was imbibed, and Kimmie wanted to meet BBB. I refused to call. She wheedled, she whined, she plied me with more alcohol, she bribed me and I succumbed.
Now, I used to be a flirt, especially when I was more than half tuned. BBB is a flirt. He flirts like he breathes, without any consciousness at all. We flirted with each other all the time and had for the 4 years that we had known each other. It was harmless.
Until that night. Until March 19, 1985. The day that the swallows return to Capistrano. The day that is the feast day of St. Joseph. The day that my world changed forever. The day that I fell in lust.
We were sitting at one of those small round tables that used to be in every bar. Kimmie, having had her curiosity satisfied, was shooting pool with some of the other guys. BBB and I were talking and flirting and, according to Kimmie, igniting everything with 25 feet of us. She finally walked over to me, leaned in, and not as quietly as she thought, asked me “Why don’t you just tell him that you want to ………..him?” I was speechless. He wasn’t. He just looked at her and said, “She is. She’s just doing it better than you just did.” Oh, my.
We (BBB and I) left together shortly after that.
By noon that same day, everyone (including the incredibly inappropriate person that I had been dating) knew that we were an ITEM. Everyone was amazed and started making book on how long we would last and who would dump who.
We were married just over 2 months later, the day he retired from the Navy (did I forget to mention that he was in the Navy)?
Isn't he pretty?
That was 22 and ½ years ago. Everyone, including me, is still amazed.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
I know that I am not "with it".
I know that the phrase "with it" is probably not even "with it".
I know that I am irked, annoyed, upset, angry, disgruntled and just basically ticked off.
When I was entering the work force, there were rules. You were taught the rules and you learned the rules. There were rules for what went on your resume, what you wore to an interview, and on how to give notice.
To give notice, you submitted a written resignation, wherein you thanked your employer for the benefits of your experience there, told them you were leaving (regretfully, of course) and gave them a minimum of 2 weeks to find your replacement.
I was never taught that you could call your employer on the phone and say *insert whiny voice*, "I'm just not coming back."
Oh wait, I just figured it out.
I was taught.
Monday, October 8, 2007
She never wins.
She has, however, amassed a collection of at least 3 mud flaps and has not lost any teeth yet.
We think her mother may have been a crack junkie - she has visions and her favorite demon to bark at is her own echo.
She is an amazingly good natured dog who has been abandoned, snake bit and stolen enough lunch boxes that she should, by all rights, be dead. But she's not.
She is loved. She stays with me in the office during the day and stays with the guards at night. She has all the rabbits and birds that she can catch, a barn cat that always gets away, and semis to play with. All in all, a pretty good life.
Sunday, October 7, 2007
I want to see what you see on any given morning this week; from somewhere very near where you live. Front porch, back porch, down the street, around the corner. Just makes sure it's your neighborhood. Post a photo that will send me to the travel agent to book a weekend at your local Bed & Breakfast.Post your October View on Monday, October 8 .Write a little or write a lot.Link to this post with the participants listHave fun.
My camera was in San Antonio this week for my son-in-law's retirement so these are some older photos of life in a small town.
Saturday, October 6, 2007
One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there were seen.
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.
But then some stranger’s prints appeared
And I asked the Lord, “Where have we been?
Those prints are large and round and neat
But Lord, they are too big for feet.”
“My child”, He said in somber tones,
“For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made Me wait.
You disobeyed, and you would not grow.
The walk of faith you would not know.
And there I dropped you on your butt
Because in life there comes a time
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand
Or leave their butt prints in the sand.”
Friday, October 5, 2007
While reading other peoples' blogs (no, not too busy to read. Just too busy to write) I came across this quiz.
What scrapbooking item are you?
You are PAPER!You are an all natural basic person who likes to act as a foundation to others. You are willing to take a backseat in most of your relationships and let others take the spotlight, while you show your support and help them shine! Underneath it all, you are the one who makes it all happen. You are the focus and stability in any group, even if you are not the leader. Others look to you to set the pace and provide ideas for ways to get things done. But Paper Beware - sometimes you get a little edgy with the people who look to you for support and can give them some papercut remarks that can hurt their feelings. Remember to watch what you say, because you are best when leading by example.
Take this quiz!
I am also putting together a scrapbooking basket for an auction at my grandson's school. A question for y'all. Would you rather get lots of papers and stickers or an album and trimmer and shape makers
Monday, October 1, 2007
Shoes tell a lot about a person and we wanna delve deeply into your soul sole. Photograph your favorite pair--or pairs--of shoes and tell us a little about why they're near and dear to your toes heart (I can't wait to see how Swampy ties this in to Breast Cancer Awareness!). Follow in Jenny's footsteps and make a foot-family portrait...show us your baby bronzed booties...let us see the shoes YOU HAD TO HAVE (but have never worn)...or all those grotesquely dyed-to-match formerly white satin bridemaid's shoes that were worn ONCE...the reinforced steel-toe boots that saved your big toe from being hacked off in that industrial "accident"...or, just take pictures of your nekkid feet--gnarly bunions, twin toes, or perfectly OPI-pedicured tootsies.
I have no pictures of my baby shoes. I can tell you that I spent the first 8 years of school in the lovely white oxfords that went with the also lovely maroon and grey plaid uniform. Ah yes, nothing quite like the smell of wet wool in the wintertime. I will say, though, that the clamp on roller skates worked really well with these shoes.
Then I progressed to these beautiful navy and white saddle shoes to go with the navy plaid uniform for the next 4 years. I also progressed from the smelly wool sweater to the lovely polyester blazer with crest and padded shoulders. Wow.
I got married right out of high school - who really needed that 4 year scholarship, right? Anyway, shoe of choice back in the day was this beauty. Oh so practical for a young wife and mother pushing a baby stroller, don't you know.