Livin' Till I Die & Other Fantasies

Sadness and Celebration

2009-04-07T20:13:00.000-07:00

Today is April 7th, the day Suz, my best friend ever, was born. One year ago today, she passed from this world. Today I celebrate both her birth and her death. Her birth because it brought her into my life at the most perfect time for both of us, giving birth to a wonderful and lasting friendship and an enduring love for one another; her death because it took her into a perfect environment where I know she is young again, she is with family and friends, she knows no pain, she is filled with joy, and is embraced by her Father and Creator, with a perfect and non-judgemental love and, Who also celebrates her return to her real home where time has no meaning, love has no end and every moment is perfect. My comfort is in knowing, without a doubt, that the friendship and love we share, will continue forever and that she will be there, waiting with my family, to greet me when my time comes; probably with a hot cup of coffee in hand, blue eyes sparkling and a great big grin on her fabulous face. The thought of that happy moment brings tears to my eyes and fills me with joy and anticipation.

There is also sadness in my heart today; sadness for the friendship I miss so much in this life. I think of Suz so often which always causes a lump to well up in my throat and brings an empty ache into my heart. Being sad is not necessarily a bad thing, for I know in my heart, that it draws the attention of those loved ones who have gone before, letting them know that our love for them is alive and well. Sadness is not grief nor is it depression. Sadness is an expression of love and caring.

Suz...today I celebrate your eternal life and am sad because I love you and miss you.
So here's to you my friend and soul sister.........until we meet again.

Love you forever,
Dort

Treasures From My 'Creative Treasure'

2009-03-22T11:23:00.000-07:00

1961...I was madly in love. March, 1962...the first of the fruits of that love came into my life, namely my lovely daughter Michelle. Like all Mothers, I fell in love instantly with this little bald headed, blue eyed beauty. It's hard to believe; that beautiful day in March was forty-seven years ago! In the jewelry box of life, I have stuffed all the priceless treasures which mean so much to me. Michelle is certainly a contributor to that box; in honor of her birthday this month, I would like to share a few of the tangible treasures she has added to my life.

The first two pictures were created by a very young Michelle from rocks, glue, paint and and imagination that never stops creating, to this day. The others are a drop in the bucket of what she has given to me and the world.
Hope you enjoy and join me in wishing Michelle a very happy and joy filled 47th year.

My Treasure gallery

2009-03-22T11:21:00.000-07:00

49 Questions..More Likely Less

2009-03-12T17:56:00.000-07:00

I can't even get Twitter to work so why would anyone think I could somehow get the 49 questions thing copied to my blog. Therefore, I shall make an attempt to see how many I can remember on my own. I've read Sandee's for a month, so you would think I would have the list memorized.......hehehehehehe. Here goes.

1. Are you named after anyone? Yeah, all the people born BEFORE me. Had to wait my turn you know.
2. When was the last time you cried? Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. It was a long term stay on the pity potty, what can I say.
3. Do you like your handwriting? Yes I do. If it weren't legible, Miss Ziebarth, who insisted all her students have "perfect" penmanship, would come back and make me do the "exercises" in my sleep, if necessary.
4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Hands down........meatloaf with mayo and catsup/ketchup (whichever you prefer). Mike....start cooking!
5. Do you have kids? Yes I do, four. And yes, they are the best looking, most intelligent on earth! So there!
6. Would you have yourself for a friend if you were another person? Absolutely! With are my charm, wit and personality, who wouldn't want me for a friend? Don't answer that!
7. Are you sarcastic? Every chance I get
8. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes, I do and the damn things remind me of their existence every once in a while. And it ain't in a fun way!
9. Would you bungee jump? Are you out of your mind! Why would anyone jump off a perfectly good bridge, or whatever, with a big rubber band tied to his/her leg. My mental illness has more sense than that!
10. What is your favorite cereal? Honey Nut Cheerios or mini shredded wheat.
11. Do you untie your shoes whenever you take them off? Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. It's part of my mystique. Or........depends on how tight the jeans, which I happen to be wearing at the time, happen to be..
12. What is your favorite ice cream? Plain old vanilla with Hershey's choc syrup and sliced bananas. Oh yeah, chopped walnuts and caramel or butterscotch syrup too, if I happen to have some. Excuse me while I go to the freezer. Boy! Howdy!
13. What is the first thing you notice about people? The eyes have it.
14. Red or pink? Red when I'm feeling dynamic, pink when I'm feeling demure.
15. What do you like least about yourself? I suppose it is my Republican tummy. (Jelly Belly)
16. Who do you miss the most? Living? see no. 5 above. Gone before? My lovely mother, Beth
17. What are the colors of the pants and shoes you are wearing? "Can't untie my shoes" jeans are factory faded blue; the shoes (with ties) are white sneakers.
18. what are you listening to right now? Two TV's, four dogs and two cats.
19. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Lavender Blue, dilly, dilly
20. What is your favorite sport? Avoiding sporting events
21. Hair color? Natural........silver. Right now........thank God it's fading, red.
22. Eye color? more green than blue, but some of both.
23. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. Scary, huh?
24. What color shirt are you wearing? Pale peach....matches my hair.
25. Summer or winter? Mix the two, add a little color and you've got it........Indian summer in the Fall.
26. Hugs or kisses? Both with a few dog slobbers and cat purrs for good measure.
27. What book are you reading now? I'm not, I'm answering these questions. However, I have Gold Coast and Cathedral, both my Nelson DeMille, waiting in the wings.
28. What did you watch on TV last night? Hauntings. Everything else is a blur.
29. What are your favorite sounds? A brook, babbling something I can't understand, the ocean, roaring in the wind, wind chimes tinkling in a gentle breeze, laughter from a small child, piano music, a church choir singing "How great Thou Art", a philharmonic orchestra playing anything and oh, so much more.
30. Where were you born? Pocatello, ID. It was a beautiful day in March. The birds were beginning their Spring song, flowers struggling just below the surface, in the warming earth, to raise their little heads........oh, sorry. Sometimes I do get carried away.
31. How did you meet your spouse or significant other? The former spouse, I picked up, while Friday night cruising with my friends on the streets of Blackfoot, ID, the significant other.......I picked up at the Sunshine Saloon in Boise, on a girls night out with my BFF, Suz. They chased me until I finally caught them.
32. Is the cup half full or half empty? The majority of the time it's half full. If it's half empty, I didn't like the contents to start with, but swallowed all I possibly could at the time. Man! That was certainly profound.

This is it.......the questions I pulled out of my memory. Obviously the 17 I missed were not memorable or I would have answered them. I do not ask or expect anyone to send this on or any of that stuff. I'm sure this little bit of information is sufficient to confuse the best of minds. Do have a good evening and remember.........Life is indeed, good!

'Taking Chance'

2009-03-09T16:40:00.000-07:00

I'm on vacation this week but Mother Nature stepped in, ruining my plans. Driving to Boise to visit with my family was foremost in my thoughts; not to be...the ISP road reports were of hazardous conditions for most of the trip down US95. Ok, so I argued with myself for a few hours and decided to book a flight to leave Saturday 7th at 4:10 PM. The airport is probably 15 minutes from my house; I left home, stopped at the ATM, then headed for Pullman. The wind was blowing a little, the skies cloudy, but otherwise it seemed like there would be no problem with flying that afternoon. Maybe two miles from the airport, it started to rain a little; by the time I reached the parking lot, the rain was a whiteout blizzard. Needless to sat, all flights were canceled for the day. The weather reports for the next couple of days were not encouraging (they were right, for once) so on Sunday I unpacked my bags and have felt sorry for myself ever since. Sunday was my 64th birthday which I wanted to celebrate with my kids, grandkids, and twin sister, Dewe. Instead, I pouted, refused to get dressed, slept a lot, and watched movies until 4:30 AM Monday because I'd slept a lot on Sunday.

I was going to go back to work (cancel my vacation) this morning but obviously, after watching tv all night, was in no condition to be productive, Guess what I've done all day? Watched movies on the tube and snow through the windows. And, my butt aches from sitting/laying on it so much the past few days.

All is not bad, however. While flipping channels as fast as my arthritic hands are able, I happened upon an HBO, fact based movie, titled "Taking Chance', starring Kevin Bacon. I feel it was meant for me to be here to see it. It is about a Marine officer who volunteers to accompany the body of Chance Phelps, a 20 year old soldier, killed in Iraq, home to Montana. If you have not seen it, you must! It made me cry for nearly the entire movie. In addition, it made me realize how much I have to be thankful for and that trivial things, like a canceled trip, which can be done at another time, are so unimportant compared to a life that has been willingly canceled by the bravery of a young man who died to save his comrades, and the freedoms that you and I take for granted every day of our lives.

I will never think about the death of a soldier the same again, for my heart will accompany each that I hear of, on that last journey to home, as well as the soldier who is a steadfast companion on that journey; who assures that his fallen comrade is treated with the utmost care, love, honor and respect. Please watch this poignant film.

What the Heck is That?

2009-02-23T20:31:00.000-08:00

I'm speaking of the gobblety gook in the previous post. I use Firefox as my web browser and just for the heck of it, clicked on the Scribefire button to see what it is. Well, it is a word processor that is supposed to allow me to post to my blog, or yours, from my web page. Just so it doesn't drive you nuts, the words were testing, testing, testing. Obviously, I failed the test. Don't have a clue why. However, I shall do my best to try to figure the damn thing out because it has some cool features...I think. Besides, my brain has been stuck, like a broken record, on nothing but work related stuff, for months. I would hope that maybe, just maybe, I might have something to contribute to the world other than the price of a can of beans or which bacon is the best. It may take me a while, and the loss of some of my thinning hair, but I, like Martin Luther King said, shall overcome. Come hell or high water...I swear!!

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2009-02-23T20:26:00.001-08:00

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Where is the Wise Old Owl When I Need Him?

2009-02-03T18:35:00.000-08:00

Will someone please tell me how to tweet on Twitter? I signed up, posted a couple of useless tweets and haven't been able to utter a peep since. I can operate a multi-million dollars business and manage a staff of 120 people but can't chirp a few little words about my aching feet? What's up with this? ARRRRRRRGGGGG!

I Pledge

2009-01-19T19:48:00.001-08:00

I have not seen such hope and enthusiasm among the people of this nation since John F Kennedy was elected President in 1960. I am not so naive as to think that every person in this country is as hopeful and enthusiastic as others. However, it seems to me that this hope is spreading like rich, soft butter on warm, home made bread, and once you get a taste of the goodness of it, you want more and you want others to taste the deliciousness of it too.

I've been watching news programs or listening to the televised celebrations going on all over this country. The songs, the joyous words, and tears of hope for a better America have affected me more than I would have ever thought.

I'm in love with the thought that maybe, just maybe the people of this nation and the whole world are beginning a spiritual shift that is bringing the realization that we are one people who, like the flowers of the fields, have many colors, sizes, shapes and needs. Alone, we are unique and beautiful in our own way; gathering together, if we stand back and look with open eyes, we will see the exquisite beauty this blending can create.

President Obama strongly believes this, and has asked, throughout his campaign, that we believe it too, and to pledge, individually, to contribute in any way we can, to making this nation one of exquisite beauty. He is not talking exclusively of money, although it is crucial, he is speaking of trusting in our greatness, giving of our time, speaking out of our belief in the innate goodness of every human being, being willing to get our hands dirty to help our neighbors, cities and states, putting our families first; not with "things", but constructive time spent together; talking, laughing, reading, playing, teaching, working, volunteering to help others.

Tonight, I heard a black man, waiting for tomorrow's inauguration, make a profound pledge. This quote may not be exact, but close. He said, with great emotion "Barack Obama has given me hope for the first time in my life. Tonight I pledge to be an American, for I no longer have the need to be an African-American." The cheers his words arose, from the crowd of many colors, told me that he is not alone in this.

Obama is not perfect; certainly mistakes will be made; his enemies will try to bring him down; critics will take pleasure at picking him apart. Regardless of this, he is our President and I, for one, pledge to be an American first, supporting our Commander-in-Chief in his sincere desire to bring this country back to being the most respected, powerful, generous, well educated, and prosperous nation in the world. I have the utmost faith that this successful journey begins at noon on Tuesday in Washington DC, United States of America, with every citizen. Together, we can do it!!!

Peace and blessing to all........................

Amazing Grace?

2009-01-18T08:56:00.001-08:00

Thanksgiving day was nothing special at my house. I was tired from working ten straight days to get through the much appreciated frenzy of people coming into my store to fill their carts with all the ingredients for the feasts they would enjoy with their family and friends on this day. The weather was lousy and I had canceled my plans to drive to Pasco for dinner with my sister, not just because of the weather, but because I was feeling a little punk.

I was all nestled up it my bed that morning, my favorite flannel jammies keeping me warm and comfortable, determined to spend the day reading or watching old movies..or both at once. However, I have these four little furry creatures who can't stand it when I've found the perfect position of pure comfort where I can enjoy my laziness. Oh, no... it is only then that they demand to be let outside to do their "thing". So... I get up for the third time that morning, pad to the doors off the deck to let the little rascals out, while telling myself they could just stay out for an hour or so, after all they do have thick fur coats. And, just maybe they would appreciate staying in a little longer when they came back into "their" cozy, warm abode. I nestled back into a comfortable position, eyes drooping and ready for a little nappy-poo, when I heard a loud chorus of snarling, snapping and yapping creatures, wondering what the H.. is going on out there? The Fireman was oblivious to anything except the latest book he was reading, so I jumped out of bed, forgetting my slippers, and ran to the deck to investigate. My feet were freezing as I looked down the stairwell which lead to the yard. There they were, my four little darlings, attacking something. I was thinking maybe it was a field mouse or one of those little brown rabbits living in the neighbor hood, when Mumz pulled back to reveal a tiny little kitten whose was obviously scared to death.

I yelled to Mike that the dogs were trying to murder a kitten as I ran past him to get my slippers. By the time I retrieved them and got back to the door, (a matter of seconds) Mike, who loves animals with a passion, was coming in, kitten in hand, with four rabid dogs nipping at his heels. He handed the poor, helpless little thing to me. She was shaking with fright, soaking wet from dog slobber, and had pooped all over herself. What could I do but give the little ceature a bath, dry her, feed her, and try to soothe away her fear while keeping her away from those other brats who thought she was some kind of toy to knock around.

I'm not sure where she came from, but I couldn't just put her back into that cold weather and snow, could I? It took a few of days of isolation and slow introduction, but soon she and the dogs were cool with each other and playing like kids do. I admit..I payed a lot of attention to her for the four days I was off work and when I came home that first night, after going back to the job, she saw me, stood up on her hind legs and reached up for me, like a little kid! For the first couple of weeks, (no one ever claimed her) she followed me like a puppy dog, licked my face and let me hand feed her. (she still likes that ). It was amazing! That is why I call her Gracie. What can I say? She is now a part of our family, curling up next to Buddy, to sleep with me every night. I am such a wuss!!

Anyway, though hard to capture, here she is: Amazing Gracie........................................

By the way, Maggie Mae, my other cat, tolerates her to a point, but Gracie loves her anyway. LOL

YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU...............................

2009-01-11T16:38:00.000-08:00

You maaaaaaaaade me love you.
I didn't wanna do it, I didn't wanna do it.

Anyone remember that old song?

Well, here's the reason I am bringing it up at this time. As I have mentioned before, it is that damn global warming which has made the North Pole slide down over the Northwest, making it impossible, on many days, for me to get my vehicle out of the driveway so that I can get to work. Since the buck stops with me at the store I manage, I have to figure out a way to get there, come hell or high water. On the worst days of snow, and after the plows have left a two to three foot berm in front of the drive way, I get up extra early and wait with anticipation, shovel in hand, to spend an hour or three digging my way out. Not fun for a worn out old body like mine!

Last week I finally found someone who was willing to shovel my entire driveway. He brought his eight year old son, they went to work, (yes, the eight year old worked like a man) and two hours later, after several weeks of wading through snow to my knees, I could see the concrete and had a clear way to back out onto the street. It was awesome!
The next night we had a huge snow storm and I woke up to about 14" of snow covering that same driveway. It was Monday morning, I had to be to work because my Assistant was on vacation, and the snow plows were not running because school was cancelled for the next few days. I called work, told them I couldn't get out but would try to find a way to get there ASAP. When daylight came, I went out to assess the problem and it was still snowing heavily. I was stuck and panicking. The hills of Moscow were not alive with the sound of music. It was more like snow blowers, spinning wheels, and strong winds howling with laughter as they made impassable snowdrifts across the streets.

I watched out the window, willing the snow to stop. I watched as a snowplow finally made a quick pass, leaving me another beautiful berm to dig through. Damn! Then, a few minutes later, I watched as a huge four wheel drive pickup, with a commercial type snow blower on the trailer it was pulling, stopped across the street at my neighbor's house. In a matter of thirty minutes, he had her walks and driveway clear of snow. A beautiful sight. I put on my coat, waded through the snow, approached the stranger and sweetly asked if he could possibly fit another job into his schedule. I introduced myself, explained my job position and why I had to get to the store. Turned out he is a loyal customer, and a business owner who understood why I needed to be there. He was glad to clean my driveway but explained that without following that snow plow, he would not have made it up the hill to my neighborhood, even with his four wheel drive rig...the roads all over town were treacherous and he doubted I could get there in my car that day. So........he offered to give me a ride after he finished clearing another neighbor's driveway. I accepted. Then I went into my house, packed a bag for a couple of days and reserved a room at the motel across the street from Winco. I would worry about how to get home later.

This was the last straw! I couldn't take any more of digging or begging for rides to work, or paying $100 bucks a night for a room when I had a perfectly good one three miles away. Winter is in it's infancy, leaving me with no choice but to give up the vehicle I have loved more than any I have ever owned. I fought the battle with my Azera last winter, I just couldn't do it any more...so on the first good day that I could get around, I started calling dealerships to see which would be open after my work hours so that I could go in to look for a vehicle with the ability to maneuver throw these awful Winters. I started with a Mercury Mariner. Very nice and very pricy. I was honest..telling them I was comparison shopping and would not buy until I found the right vehicle at the right price. My secretary recommended a dealer with a certain type of vehicle, which she owns, so I went there next. I fell in love! It had everything I wanted...leather heated electric seating, six disc player, air, a fabulous reputation for getting around in snow, energy saving gas milage, almost zero emmissions, and best of all an affordable price.

No, it is not as luxurious as my Azera (I will always love you) or as big, and the ride isn't as smooth, but this morning, after it snowed again, I backed out of my driveway with no problems whatsoever! Yes, my precious little Subaru Forester, you made me love you...even if I didn't wanna do it! Let me introduce you to the world............................

2009-01-11T16:29:00.000-08:00

Yes, most of the snow melted by this afternoon and life is indeed, good..................

Facebook and Twitter????????????

2009-01-01T20:17:00.001-08:00

I have never been ashamed to admit this fact: when it comes to electronics of any kind, i.e., remote controls, video players, computers, cell phones, etc., I am somewhat challenged. For example: my first cell phone. I am not a telephone person; that is, I could live life perfectly well without one even though I love it when someone calls to talk to me, sometimes even a friendly salesman. (is that sick, or what?) Anyway, I do realize that phones are a necessary part of life from time to time. When I was promoted to Assistant Store Manager in 2000, I decided it was important that anyone at work, especially my boss, be able to contact me at any time in an emergency situation, regardless of where I might be. Thus the cell phone. It was a pretty little thing, (candy apple red) and seemed quite simple to operate. Like the dedicated-to-my-job person I am, I carried it with me everywhere, even making a call now and then. (I have over 4000 rollover minutes, if that tells you anything)

One day, Blaine, my store manager, asked me why I never answered my cell phone when he had tried to call me on several occasions. Of course i quickly answered that the phone had never rang, assuring him that it was always on my person and that I charged it faithfully. He asked to see it. I handed it to him; he looked it over; he got a silly looking grin on his face; he told me I had to turn it on; my face matched the candy apple red of that phone. What can I say? The damn things are wireless; some nano size little phone faerie is supposed to magically make it ring, right?

Ok, so this is basically the same experience I am having with Facebook and Twitter. I have managed to do just enough with each to be in danger of losing what little mind I have left. This baffles me because I have no problem with the programs I use on the computers at work on a daily basis. Therefore, for those who send me flowers, drinks, kisses, hugs, snowballs, invites, etc., etc., or who may be slightly interested in anything I might "twitter" about, you are SOL for a reply....I do try. I would tell you to read my mind for my responses, but I do have enough wits left about me to realize... that would require 'thinking' on my part. Apparently, I ain't good at that either. But........keep in mind.....I am lovable! And, I may just be the tool God gave you to learn patience.

Winter? I wonder.............

2008-12-27T09:35:00.000-08:00

Everyone knows that the Northwest has been hammered with snow and wind for the past two or three weeks but this is getting to the point of rediculous! Can you imagine Seattle and Portland coming to a complete stop? And, Spokane too? Last winter was enough to last for the rest of my life; apparently, Mother Nature doesn't care what I think. I'd take pictures of what's happening this very minute but you'd can't see anything because of the heavy snow falling.

Reports are coming in every few minutes of more road closures. Luckily, I am off work for the next three days so I don't have to worry until Tuesday morning of how to escape from this snowy prison, otherwise known as my driveway. There is three feet of snow in front of my garage door so my poor vehicle is having to endure this pounding out in the cold. Oh, how I long for the flat lands of the Boise valley!

This storm is supposedly coming from the south Pacific, near Hawaii, causing the air to warm. By noon, the snow is reported to be turning to rain. Straight across the road from my driveway, is a road that is quite a steep uphill grade. Now, my imagination is limited; however, visions of a river invading my garage keep running through my head. This is troublesome since I have procrastinated building that Arc I've been planning all my life.

I don't mean to be a complainer, many people are suffering from this onslaught, but my arms and back can't get enough Aleve for the pain resulting from all the shoveling I've done recently, not to mention the cold feet and hands that barely get warmed up before the next round.

The environmentalists say the globe is warming. The proof is at the North and South poles. Well, I believe them because the North Pole is sliding over Moscow and the whole Northwest as I speak.

Winter? I wonder whether (no pun intended) it will ever end.......another something to visualize and hope for. In this case, life WILL be good again, the sooner the better.

A Bundle of Joy for Christmas

2008-12-22T20:18:00.000-08:00

December 22, 1970 was a cold, snowy Winter day. I was nine months pregnant and tired from all of the Christmas preparations for the big day coming up. Darrell and Michelle were out of school for the holidays so the they, Sandee and I slept past our normal 6 AM arising time that morning. When I did get up, heading for the bathroom to empty what seemed to be an extra full bladder, I noticed something I'd never seen with my other pregnancies; I had a (don't mean to be gross) bloody mucus on my panties. You'd have thought I had never had a baby before, but this scared me so I called my Mom, who was a nurse, to ask what this meant. "Well, Honey", she said, "you are starting labor and that mucus is what is known as "show". She advised me to call my GYN, which I did. I was so sad to find that his mother had passed away so he would not be available to deliver my baby that day if I was in labor. His nurse told me I should go to the hospital to be checked, just in case.

I didn't really want to have a baby that day, being so close to Christmas and, with three young kids whom I wanted to be with to celebrate the day. However, I always (at least in those days) listened to my doctor or his nurse, so I took a bath & made myself beautiful, got the kids dressed and fed, then called my husband at work to tell him I needed to go to the hospital. He was home in a flash, we took the kids to his sister's, and headed for Pocatello, about thirty miles from our home in Moreland. By the time we arrived at the Bannock Memorial about 11:00 AM, I no longer had any doubt that I would give birth on that day.

We were so happy to be having this baby, and we were absolutely certain it would be a boy. My only disappointment was that Dr. Olsen would not be there to do the delivery. I had such absolute trust in him and knew nothing about the on-call Doctor which made me a tad uncomfortable. However, it was also the "new" thing to allow fathers into the delivery room for the birth, which we thought was pretty cool and made me feel better because I would have at least one person in the room with whom I was familiar.

I really had a pretty short, but very hard labor and was glad to be wheeled into the delivery room around 3 PM. The doctor gave me a Saddle block, numbing me from the waist down to my toes and the work began. Between contractions, Archie and I were having a little argument about whether our new son would be David Craig or Craig David. I wanted the latter. However, much to our surprise, Craig David didn't have the right plumbing for that name. I'm so darn smart, I figured that out as watched her delivery in the overhead mirror. It didn't matter...we were thrilled to have her. The doctor did give us a fright when she slipped out of his hands toward the floor, but he caught her and all was well. She went to the nursery and I stayed on the table for the tubal ligation that followed her birth. She was the last precious baby I would ever give birth to. Again, on the advise of Dr. Olsen.

Oh, how beautiful this little angel was. She was my biggest baby of the four, but she seemed so tiny and fragile to me. I don't know why, but I was a nervous wreck with her, like I had no clue what to do. I would watch her every breath, worried that her tiny nostrils were too small too breath enough air. My doctor basically told me to get a grip on that one.

She was born on my oldest sister, Carol's birthday, and it was nearly Christmas, so we named her Cristie Carol. Because of the Ligation, which was considered an operation in 1970, I had to spend four days in the hospital so we didn't get to be home for Christmas that year. I was feeling sorry for myself on Christmas day because I missed my other kids. However, early in the afternoon, Archie brought them to the hospital with their gifts for me. They weren't allowed to actually come into the hospital, but he arranged for them to stand down below the window to my room, where we could smile, wave, and blow kisses to each other. That made the day much more bearable. Two days later, the Nurses put Cristie into a red Christmas stocking and we took her home to be loved and enjoyed by the whole family.

She will always be my baby and has been a joy to me her entire life. I am so proud of the sweet, intelligent, funny and talented woman she is today. I love you sweet baby girl, Cristie.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU..........AND MANY MORE

Music, Music, Music

2008-12-16T17:19:00.000-08:00

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My daughter, Sandee, posted, on her blog Kitty Krazy, a couple of videos of Jim Reeves singing songs my kids learned to love in their very early years. This brought back memories of when the kids were very young and I would lure them to sleep with music.

I've always loved music, almost every type. I recall a great neighbor who would allow us to go into her side yard to swing on the only swing set in the neighborhood. I would often go there by myself, sit in that swing and sing at the top of my lungs for what seemed, hours. My young mind thought I was very good at it, my adult daughter, Sandee, who is indeed, very musically gifted, tells me I can't carry a tune in a bucket. Huh, what does she know anyway! Hehe. I sang (alto) in every choir I could during my school years, and at church in adulthood; even sang a solo performance of "Wouldn't It Be Loverly" in an original musical play while in my last year of Junior High School. Oh, yeah, and then there was the duet I did, with my friend Vash, of "Rye Whiskey" for a health class on alcohol consumption. Got an A+. So there, Miss Perfect Pitch, Sandee! (maybe it was the acting drunk, while singing?)

Back to the kids. They were young, we were at the upper end of poor, or maybe it was the lower end of middle class counting both of our incomes, so in the latter part of the Sixties, we bought a beautiful, state of the art RCA stereo console, built into a cabinet of solid walnut; no particle board in those days. It was a low profile, with modern sleek lines and was five feet wide. On either end was a large speaker connecting to the stereo components in the center which consisted of an AM/FM radio and a record changer which would play what was known as 45 singles or 78 albums. In addition, and what was so special about this particular stereo in those days, you could stack up to ten 45s or six 78s and listen to music for hours. With this awesome machine, I had no choice but to join the Columbia Record Club to save some money. I ordered Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Andy Williams, Jim Reeves, Marty Robbins, Elvis, The Everly Brothers, Frankie Avalon, Connie Francis, Paul Anka, The Kingston Trio, Ricky Nelson, Eddy Arnold, Frankie Lane...the list could go on and on. My husband and I worked opposite shifts, 7-3:30 or 3:30-midnight. When he was on the swing shift, I would get the kids into bed, stack the stereo with albums, turn up the sound so they could hear from their beds; they would fall asleep, listening to all of these great artists. I swear, they knew the words to every song, on every album.

That stereo was with us for many years, bringing us the sounds of the forties, fifties, sixties, seventies and eighties. Sometime during the early Eighties, I bought a set of albums from the 1940's, a mixture of big bands, the Andrew Sisters, and other artists from those years. My kids literally wore those albums out. It tickled me pink that they would love music from that era so much. Oh, yes. That RCA stereo was one of the best investments we ever made, instilling a love of music with all four of my kids. They in turn have passed this love onto their own families.

Yes, indeed, music is medicine for the soul and life is good!

Christmas's Past

2008-12-15T20:00:00.000-08:00

It's been a long time since I have felt such a longing for Christmas celebrations with my family. I miss them every year but this one is the worst.

Today is icy cold. Snow blankets the ground, ice covers the byways, the air outdoors frosts your nose and lungs with your first breath. Lights, white and colored, sparkle on the homes and businesses along the short ride home. A lump rises in my throat as I remember these same sights and feelings from years gone by. Icy roads, 26 below zero temperatures, miles of driving in barely running vehicles with bald tires; nothing could stop us from attending our annual Kinghorn Christmas party.

When my siblings and I were in our youth, with very young children, the Christmas season was filled with planning and anticipation of gathering together to celebrate with each other, kids, spouses or "partners" and our dear Mom, Beth. Like most young families, none of us were independently wealthy, so we would draw names among the kids and adults, setting a dollar limit affordable to all, for a gift exchange at our annual party. In the beginning we would gather at the home of the sibling with the most room. Everyone would bring hot foods, salads, pies, cakes and goodies to share for the feast we would enjoy all evening long. There was always roasted turkey and baked ham. Home made rolls, hot for the initial feasting, were made in abundance, leaving enough for the "sandwiches", made from the leftover meats, for later evening hunger pangs. I must say, my family was gifted with an abundance of fabulous cooks.

As the years passed and families grew larger, we had to rent a church hall, or the Senior Citizens center to hold everyone; for in addition to immediate family members, there were friends of kids, friends of siblings, friends of friends, in-laws & out-laws, aunts, uncles and cousins included. The welcome mat was always at the door for anyone.

We would visit, eat, sing carols, play games, eat more, show off the talents of our kids, then eat some more. (I said it was Feast) My brother Bob, who loved kids and making them happy, would slip out to dress in his Santa suit for the gift exchange. The kids would be thrilled, even those who were suspicious because "Santa's nose sure looks like Uncle Bob's". Everyone, adults and kids alike, would sit on Santa's lap, tell him their Christmas wishes, receive a candy cane, then the beautifully wrapped gift from the exchange. Hysterical laughter would accompany the unveiling of the "treasures" a couple of bucks would buy. In later years, we opted for white elephants only, so that those with near empty wallets could participate without pressure or embarrassment. Those were the best gift exchanges of all, a fact we all concurred on. Oh, how precious and joyous are those memories.

Years passed, our kids grew into adulthood, starting families of their own, scattering hither and yon until the annual Kinghorn Christmas celebration is no more. It was a sad passing, yet opened the door for many other family gatherings as the family tree has branched out. This is my fourth Christmas away from my family and yes, I am having a pity party for myself because I miss them and long to be singing off-key to the karaoke machine Sandee takes to Michelle's house for the Christmas gathering they have each year. I long to see my (maybe even myself) family get tipsy and silly; my grand kids get noisy and sometimes obnoxious; my tummy to bloat from too much food; to feel the warmth, love and hugs from these very important people in my life, and to just sit back and watch, knowing this will continue into forever. Maybe next year... 2010 for certain!

The Christmas Program.....I was so proud

2008-12-01T18:26:00.000-08:00

Darrell, my only son, was nothing less than a handful as a very young boy. I suppose in today's world, he would be drugged with Prozac or some other "calming" medicine for overly active (now known as ADD) kids. When he was at his "best", if you get my drift, we simply dealt with it using old fashioned parenting. He knew who was "in-charge" but never stopped testing the waters to see how far he could go. Today, as a grown man, he is one of the most mellow people I know. So let me tell you about the Christmas program.

I don't recall the year, but it was during the Christmas holidays. We lived in a small community where most people were active participants in in their religious practices. My husband and I were not. However, we allowed our kids to participate as much as they chose. They did just that, attending Sunday school and other programs for kids at the church. As most Christians do, a program depicting the birth of Christ was planned with the kids playing the various roles needed. Darrell was to be one of shepherds. Rehearsals went on for a few weeks before the night of the program. That day arrived, the program planned for early evening. I helped the kids get dressed for the parts they were to play; Archie and I loaded them into the car and off to the church we went.

Darrel was dressed in his little plaid robe and I had used a white flannel diaper to wrap around his head. With a borrowed wooden cane, he fit the part perfectly. I'm sure I wasn't the only Mom who tried to encourage her child to do his best, but to remember he would be in the church and he had better behave...or else!

We arrived at the church rec center, a little nervous to be around all these people who took their faith so seriously, hoping the roof wouldn't cave in from the shock of our attendance. However, our apprehension was quickly dissipated by the warm welcome we were given. I escorted the kids backstage where their teachers would make last minute preparations. A welcoming speech was given to announce the evening's agenda, lights were dimmed, chatter stopped and the curtain opened. Cameras flashed from proud parents as their darling children performed their parts to perfection. Knowing the story well, I knew it was time for the shepherds to appear. Two came from stage left, reverent demeanor intact. Silence. No action. I was holding my breath, waiting for the third, who should have been with the first two..namely, Darrell. It seemed an eternity passed when suddenly, like a bolt of lightening, Shepherd no. 3 came stumbling over his own feet from stage left followed by the long arm of his teacher who had obviously had to shove him onto the stage. There he was in all his glory, little plaid robe open, barely hanging onto his shoulders, exposing his Micky Mouse T-shirt, the white diaper head dress holding onto his head by one ear....my face burning hot and crimson, eyes bulging in disbelief. As I was thinking, "Why me, Lord"? the room burst into loud and hysterical laughter which seemed to last forever while I sat there horrified, imagining people judging my child rearing abilities. The laughter died, the play continued to it's finish while I was trying frantically to find a plausible answer for this humiliating disruption to this otherwise holy story.

I admit, no one said a word which was a relief. Following the program, the kids were surprised by a visit from Santa, himself. Parents and Grandparents sat in their chairs as the kids lined up, waiting for their turn to sit on his lap, give him their wish list and receive the bag of candy he had brought for each one. It was fun to listen to those innocent little angels and watch the awe in their eyes while sitting on that lap. Then came Darrell's turn..........still askew in his dress, he climbed onto Santa's lap. Santa asked the question.."And what would you like to find under the tree, young man"? Without hesitation, my precious child answered, "I already know what I'm gettin', I saw in my Mom and Dad's closet"! More laughter, more red cheeks from Mom.

It was a wondrous night..................I was so proud.

A Long Ago Saturday of Holiday Shopping

2008-12-01T18:00:00.000-08:00

It all started with several weeks or months of saving, planning and anticipation. "The" December Saturday arrived with a burst of sunshine, extra bright as it reflected off the glistening snow blanketing the landscape, then flowing right through the crystal clear icicles hanging gloriously from the low eaves of the roof. As luck would have it, the sky was blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds way to high to worry about walking through a snow storm during the walk to downtown.

As with most mornings, breakfast came first; thick slices of homemade bread, toasted to perfection, a couple of fried eggs and a big glass of the ice cold milk which had just been delivered by that handsome young Milkman on our route. Since going downtown to shop was a big deal for anyone in the fifties, getting "ready" was as important as the shopping itself.

The claw foot tub was filled with water, hot enough to make my butt cheeks rosy without actually scalding my tender young skin. I would settle into the warm water, bubbles courtesy of shampoo, (actual bubble bath was a luxury) rising to my chin as I daydreamed of the fun Vash, my best friend, and I would have that day and of gifts I would buy with the twenty or twenty-five dollars burning a hole in my pocket. Using the Ivory soap and a good rough textured washcloth, I scrubbed myself until my skin was shiny, finishing up with a double shampooing of my hair; had to shine, you know. Bathrobes were for movie stars, so panties and a bra had to do while I put the goop on my hair to hold it into place until it dried, brushed my teeth, combed my eyebrows with a little Vaseline, brushed on some cake mascara, and finally, applied the white/pink lipstick all the girls were wearing then. Soon someone was pounding on the door for their turn, so I wrapped myself in my damp towel, going to the tiny bedroom I shared with my sisters to get dressed.

Since it was a Saturday, and cold to boot, I wore my only dressy slacks, which were not allowed at school, a sweater borrowed from a friend (everyone borrowed clothes) and my precious T-Strap shoes which I knew, but didn't care, would leave my feet freezing. Socks were for sissies. I visited with my siblings and Mom while I waited for my hair to dry enough to go out into the cold for the walk to Vash's house. At 10:00 AM I arrived at her back door (couldn't use the front..it would doom her to be an old maid, according to her superstitious Mom) and was warmly greeted by her parents while she finished making her bed. She finished, we were off!

Winter in Pocatello was harsher in those days, so the walk downtown was like walking through a Courier and Ives post card. Thick blankets of snow on roof tops, icicles hanging from the eaves, white smoke rising from chimneys; boys bundled in heavy coats, hand knit mittens and hats, having snowball fights in the park; little kids in snowsuits making snow angels in their front yards while their Fathers hung Christmas lights; high school boys on their wooden sleighs, hooky-bobbing behind their buddy's hot rod. Sometimes even a girl in Junior High would be lucky enough to get a wolf whistle as those "older" men whizzed by on the snow covered streets. Funny how the beauty of this picture was lost to us at the time.

The walk from home to downtown was probably a little more than a mile, passing quickly as we chattered and giggled about boys, school mates and other things long forgotten. As we went into the Center Street underpass, we knew we were almost there.... for waiting on the other side was downtown and mysterious treasures for our shopping pleasure. Vash, list in hand, knew exactly what she wanted. I, on the other hand, preferred the adventure of "spur of the moment" decisions.

I can still feel the thrill of coming out of that dark walkway through the underpass, seeing the Christmas decorations along the streets, hearing the sounds of holiday music coming from the shops, and watching people, carrying their beautifully wrapped gifts as they hustled along the sidewalks from shop to shop.

There was The Peoples department store, Blocks, Adair dress shop, Woolworths five & dime, (where we got the most for our hard earned dollars) The Paris, a dress shop to die for, where there was never more than one of any dress style, and where every high school girl in town bought her prom dress..if she was lucky enough to be asked to attend. There was a Lerner's shop; a jewelry store where you could buy the very much in fad, dog tag everyone had to have AND get it engraved with your name, all for a buck; the drug store with a soda fountain for the cherry coke you just had to have, along with all kinds of special knick-knacks, costume jewelry or perfume that would thrill your Mom to no end on Christmas morning; the music store with sheet music and the latest 45 records, by Elvis, Fabian, Bobby Darin, Paul Anka, Connie Frances, and all the other great rock and rollers of that time, which you could play before buying (while dreaming of dancing with the boy who wore YOUR dogtag 'cuz you were "going steady"). And of course there was the little mom and pop cafe where Vash would always insist on buying Fish and Chips for our lunch, knowing I couldn't afford it but loved that special treat. She was such a special friend!

We would hit every shop, buy our gifts, enjoy each other's company and the festive cheerfulness surrounding us everywhere, then, after hours of this fun and frivolity, walk back through that dimly lit underpass to our respective homes to wrap and tag those precious gifts, content with the knowledge that we had completed our once- a -year Christmas shopping trip, looking forward to the excitement and activities of the next two weeks until the Big Day arrived.

Those simple and stress-free days, when less truly was more, are a treasure to those of us who lived them. Everyone should be so blessed in their life experience.

May the Holidays bring much joy and happiness to all. Yes, indeed......Life is good!

Careful What You Ask For

2008-11-29T10:20:00.000-08:00

Virtually every religion, philosophy, or belief system known to mankind teaches to ask and you will receive, seek and you will find. The problem is in how we go about the asking part. We pray, we beg, we supplicate, we promise to be good, better or best if only "You" will give me what I want. I want to be healthy... please make me so; I want to be happy...please show me the way; I want to be financially secure...please let me buy the winning lottery ticket or lead me to a dream job; I want to be thin...give me the willpower to leave those damn sweets alone; I want a new home, I want a new/newer car, I want peace in the world, I want to be safe and secure, I want to loved unconditionally, I want to be debt free, I want, I want....................

Think hard about this and you will realize that God, The I Am, The Universe, All That Is, The Creator...whomever or whatever you have given your faith to, will give you exactly that. Wanting. I personally am working on the premise (which I have learned from my life long search for answers) that the desires of my life will be granted by being thankful in advance of receiving.

Thank you, God for the good day I am about to experience, thank you for the good health I will enjoy for the remainder of my life; thank you for the abundance which continues to flow into my life; thank you for the love and happiness that comes to me in many ways, every day; thank you for the retirement coming my way and the new adventures it will bring to me; thank you for the peace and love which is developing at a rapid pace for all of humanity; thank you for the success and happiness life brings to my children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, my brothers and sisters and all of my extended family; thank you for the leaders of this country and the world who are working together for peace, goodwill and prosperity for all of mankind...to name a few.

Now I admit, this is not easy to do. However, with baby steps, I go forward with great faith that being thankful for the future and all the good it will bring to me and my fellow men is worth giving up that four letter word that leads to nowhere. Goodbye WANT. Hello "Thank You God", for the blessings coming every day to all, believers and non believers alike.

Thank you God, for the ears that will hear and the hearts who will believe.

Thanks For...........

2008-11-19T16:50:00.000-08:00

There are many things in my life for which I am truly thankful. First off is the very good job I am privileged to have which will keep me so busy from tomorrow through Thanksgiving day that I will not have time to express my thankfulness. Therefore, I will do that today by a simple random listing of the aforementioned "things". So here goes:

My green eyes, which go much better with my silver hair than say..brown?
My four darling children who are filled with charm, wit and personality.
My mother, Beth who kept our family together under extremely hard circumstances and always had more than enough love to go around; who taught us that work is not a four letter word, who earned the love and respect of all who knew her, who gave more than she ever received, who was beautiful from the inside out.
My home, despite the fact that the license I obtained from Fish and Game to kill the dust bunnies has yet to bear fruit.
My vehicle, which warms my butt in the Winter (I love that feature) is large enough to sit grown men comfortably, gets great gas mileage for a large car (32mpg-highway) and keeps me from walking uphill both ways to work each day.
My "first love", Jon, who actually believed I was something special...me and about four other girls.
The fact that love is blind which kept me from knowing about the "other" four for a very long time.
Being born and raised in Idaho.
Being born into poverty which makes me more appreciative of all I now have, and keeps my spending in check to this day. (do I really need that?)
My six adorable and brilliant grandchildren, my two incredible sons-in-law, my fantastically handsome great-grandson and my beautiful and wonderfully opinionated great-granddaughter-in law.
Seven fantastic siblings who have added so much to the tapestry of my life.
Sisters and brothers-in-law, nieces and nephews, aunts and uncles, grandparents, my dearest friend Suz........all loved and appreciated for various and sundry reasons.
The hard knocks in life which have made me so appreciative of the good times.
The good old days and the "best" which is yet to come.
Coca Cola in a glass bottle.
Daisy, BetziBu, Alyce, Mumz, MissieLoo and Maggie Mae-the furry creatures in my life who have in the past, or now bring me great joy and unconditional love. (yes, even the cat can love)
Books
Music
Dancing until my legs cramp.
Tiny little people who look at me with big bright eyes and say "Hi!"
People with a sense of humor.
The ability to laugh until my sides hurt.
The Doctor, the Baker, the Candlestick maker...all the people in the World who make life easier for all of us.
The physical beauty of the earth (when I really take the time to look at her wonders).
Good times, bad times, all the in-between times.
The Fireman who has taken me on the roller-coaster ride of my life.
Being an American
Being imperfect which gives me something to work toward.
Being loved in spite of those imperfections.
Everything automatic.
Flannel jammies and fuzzy sox............................

Just to name a few, but reminding me that Life is indeed good. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

Religion and Politics

2008-11-11T19:40:00.000-08:00

Either of these subjects can lead a person into dangerous territory..that is; heated arguments, loss of friendships, judgement of one's sanity, hatred and ridicule, just to name a few. With that said, I will jump right in and state that I am a moderate "Demo-pendent" when it comes to politics (I shall avoid these today) and finally, after a lifetime of searching, reading the Old and New Testaments several times, along with many other religious books, participating fully in church services and activities, and seeking truth about religion and life's purpose since I was a very young girl, I have found an answer for myself.

This answer began to germinate nearly four years ago, when simply by gut feeling, I was compelled to go to the book store. Having no idea what I was looking to buy, I was led, again by this gut feeling, to the metaphysical section of that store. Yes, I have read many of this type book, some very thought provoking, others just plain ridiculous. So as I browsed through the titles, finding nothing pulling me in, I wondered what in the world I was doing there spending my precious time in futility. However, that darn gut feeling kept tugging at me until, on a lower shelf, I saw a small book entitled Conversations with God, Book 1, by Neale Donald Walsch. I somehow knew this was the book I should purchase that day, which I did. I went back to work and thought of this book for the rest of the day, anxious to read what MY self was trying to tell me. Later, I learned that these books (3) had been on the New York Times best seller lists for long periods of time. I had never heard of them.

I arrived home that evening, ignoring the Fireman, dinner, the dogs and the cat, taking time to get into my favorite flannel jammies, making myself comfortable on my bed, propped up by four big down-filled pillows, and started reading. I read those words with an increasing feeling of joy in my heart until all 211 pages had filled my head with a thousand questions when I finished that same evening. In the coming weeks, I read it over and over and over again. I shared it with some friends, co-workers and family members; some who read it and heard the message and some who read it and heard nothing. Either was OK by me. Later that same year, I obtained the trilogy of Conversations with God on CDs which have brought the words to life for me many times over. Certainly there are some things contained in this work that did not resonate as strongly as others in my heart. However, with each reading or hearing of these "conversations" my understanding becomes more clear.

In all honesty, there have been periods of time when I have not spent time with these words but when my soul thinks I need a refresher, it has nudged me into re-reading or listening once again.
I have been actively doing this for the past few weeks, sometimes forcing myself into stopping so that I can get the necessary duties at home done.

Today, after four years of studying these works and others by the same author or recommended by him, I am ready to declare that I have found my truth; something that rings true to me. It doesn't matter to me whether I am judged to be out of my mind, a heretic or anything else, I only care about what is truth for me and my soul and the joy this "knowing" brings to me. I love my God, my God love me equally. Of that I am 100% certain.

This post is in no way my attempt to proselytize anyone; it is simply my way of crying out, with no shame or reluctance, to the world of the joy I feel for the truths that make my soul sing.

Life is indeed, a bowl of cherries, even with the pits along the way! Love and peace to the world of humanity. Amen and goodnight.

The People Have Spoken

2008-11-05T11:06:00.000-08:00

My first thought, at the end of a long evening last night, was: "Thank God and greyhound they're gone!" That is, the negative advertising, hateful comments and half-truths inundating the television, newspapers, and talk radio, and the division of family, friends and neighbors over this 2008 election.

I voted for the first time in the very early sixties and this truly is the most historical political moment I have known in my lifetime. Those of you born in the seventies or later can never know the division in this country during the Vietnam war or the Civil Rights movement. It was painful then and has been a struggle ever since. Today is our opportunity to once again become what the founding fathers, intended, "One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

Certainly, every person has the right to his or her opinion and beliefs. However, our first responsibility is to be loyal to our country and it's leaders, supporting them in their efforts to bring us together as "One People" to bring this country out of the darkness of hatred (fear) into the light of love and acceptance for all.

John McCain, spoke of this with great eloquence, sincerity and grace in his speech last night. It is my hope for all of humanity that each of us, whether we supported or voted for him or not, will listen to those words and accept our responsibility to work together to bring the peace, hope and vision that was born when this nation was brought forth so many years ago.

The tears of joy shed last night should be a sign that God does indeed bless America.

Yesterday

2008-10-16T18:29:00.000-07:00

YESTERDAY:

You could lay out on your lawn at night and see so many stars that it was hard to notice the black velvet sky surrounding them
You knew the names of every neighbor on your block; kids, parents and pets, included.
Houses and cars were never locked; doors and windows were left open all night to allow cool breezes to ease your sleep.
Door to door salesmen were allowed into your home with no fear; even if you were alone.
Kids could play outside all day long with no supervision, summer or winter.
Children had to complete their chores, do their homework, be responsible before any Play came into play. No exceptions!
Children respected adults and never dared to talk back to them or ever, ever used fowl language. (well maybe with very special friends who would never squeal on you)
School was an eight hour day; class size was 25 to thirty pupils; teachers were respected; students got individual help; no one ever heard of a teachers "Aid".
PE was just that...."Physical" Education; jumping jacks, squats, bending, stretching, running, sweating. Potatoes and gravy were a staple and kids were very rarely fat.
Girls dressed like girls and boys, like boys. There was never a question of gender.
People who didn't grow a garden and can food for the winter were rare.
Going to a "Drive-in for burgers, fries and a coke, or ice cream was a rare and huge event.
Pizza! What's pizza?
Canned soup for lunch was for the very, very wealthy.
Popcorn and candy, at the rare movie you were privileged (had to earn it) to attend, was affordable for anyone.
Learning to drive at nine or ten was normal; having a license to drive at fourteen was expected.
Traffic jam? What kind of fruit is traffic?
Television? Only on rare occasions if one of the more affluent neighbors happened to own one.
Radios were on all day and all night. Music, comedy, drama and, believe it or not, soap operas were listened to, rarely seen.
Sex was always S.E.X. but only adults knew what it really meant.
Cold cereal was a treat. Your choices: Corn Flakes, Shredded Wheat, Rice Crispies, Wheaties, All-bran, Puffed wheat or rice. That's it folks.
Soda Pop? Maybe on the Fourth of July or if your rich uncle came to visit. Kool-Ade, Koole-Ade. Tastes Great! Kool-Ade, Kool-ade. Can't wait!
A severe summer rain storm meant hours of play in the ankle high water covering the streets of your neighborhood.
If you were lucky enough to have living grand parents, they were damned old. Sixty years old? How can anyone possibly live that long?
Having a baby meant three or four days in the hospital where you were pampered by nurses. (back massages, body lotioned, feet rubbed, hair shampooed for you, assisted baths), good, REAL food cooked by someone other than you; it was a terrible way to treat an exhausted new mother. Having a large family meant you got a little vacation every year or two. Hehe.
Buying on credit, except for a house or rarely a car? Do people really do that?
Three pairs of shoes: excessive-compulsive.
An automatic washing machine can't possibly get your clothes white enough!
Wadda ya mean, a machine that can wash dishes? That's what kids are for!
People who use mop sticks are just plain lazy!
Vacuums were available from the door-to-door salesman or the Sears catalog. Otherwise you didn't own one.
A compact car was a Volkswagon. Real people drove "tanks".
A dime and a nickle would buy you enough gas to "cruise" downtown for hours on Friday night; that is if you could find enough pop bottles to sell to get the fifteen cents and were lucky enough to borrow the family car.
October was for Halloween, November for Thanksgiving, December for Christmas. Stores decorated and stocked items for those holidays ONLY in the month pertaining to the holiday. Same for all other holidays.
Every home owned an iron and ironing board and actually used them!
Only GIs and construction workers used the "F" word and never around women and children.
Gay was a woman's name or meant you were in a happy mood.
Pink, blue, orange or green hair was for Halloween only.
Pierced noses, chests, cheeks, etc were only seen in the National Geographic magazine.
Respect for others was a way of living, not a top hit on a music chart.
Being late for school or work was totally unacceptable.
Not going to school or work because you were sick meant you were near death.
Being lazy was equivalent to being a crack addict or drug dealer.
Discipline at home, school or work was not a dirty word. No one was sued for applying it.
Visiting with neighbors every day was normal.
Strangers were not people to fear.

More yesterdays at another time.

A Tribute

2008-09-27T17:44:00.000-07:00

He wasn't the most handsome man I've ever met; in fact, over the years of knowing him, I've heard others say he was downright ugly. Slightly built, he was rather short, had the worst case of adult acne I've ever seen; his watery blue eyes drooped at the outer corners like those sad eyes of a Basset Hound and his teeth needed the services of an orthodontist desperately.

At one time in his life he had been married, producing a daughter who was very important to him; he talked of her often to me during the years we worked together. The only other person I knew about from his private life was his mother whom he adored; it was easy to tell she felt the same, though I only met and talked with her when she came into the store to shop or go to lunch with him.

He was a quiet, unassuming man who spoke softly; I never once heard him raise his voice in anger; nor did he ever complain even though years of hard physical work had played some havoc with his back. He wasn't the speediest cashier I ever worked with, but he was steady, accurate and dependable. His customers loved him. Why? Because he was so genuinely friendly and real.

Anyone willing to look beyond the facade of his looks found a man of extreme intelligence and a sense of humor that could have made him millions. Unfortunately, some people were unwilling to do that, which was their loss. By some stroke of luck, I've been fortunate enough to be a person who doesn't care what a person wears around for a body, or what bad habits, weaknesses or flaws they may have; I try to see past all those unimportant things into the heart and soul.

My friend, Bob Looney, was a beautiful person in my eyes. Though I had few opportunities to see him in the last ten years, it was always a pleasure when I did, always involving a great hug and hilarious laughter. Bob passed away a couple of days ago, his body riddled with cancer.

I am truly grateful for the opportunity to have known such a great soul. So... here's to you Bob Looney. May your new life be filled with laughter, be pain free and have all the beer you could ever possibly want. I will miss you!