Fleeting thoughts & rambling stories

Eleven Eleven Eleven

2011-11-12T10:05:00.000-08:00

It will be 100 years until Veterans Day occurs on that date again. My Veteran and I went downtown early & got the best parking place for the Veterans Day parade. We could stand on the sidewalk for two & a half hours or, when aching backs (knees, feet) demanded, we could sit in the truck and see most everything. Prior to the parade start we met a nice couple from Boston; they had never seen the Las Vegas parade but had heard it was a good one. He had not been in the military himself but his father had served during World War II. We assured them it was a great parade; they wandered a little farther down the street.

The Marine Riders led the parade... so many noisy (beautiful) Harleys and their super-patriotic riders. Makes me wish I was younger, braver, crazier... I too would ride a Harley. All branches of the military were represented in fine fashion. We all cheered and waved as the four remaining members of the Las Vegas Pearl Harbor Survivors rode slowly down the street. Their president who is 96 years said this will be their last parade. Well done old soldiers... well done.

Once again, many high school ROTC groups marched by... they looked so serious, America's future. One fella standing near us was looking and looking for his daughter but couldn't quite pick her out of the crowd of youngsters. She came by later & he was so full of pride in her. Friends were taking pictures of them; someone told her to 'smile'. She replied "I'm not allowed"... come to think of it... in every formal picture of our military, none are smiling.

The Hawaii Marines are having their annual reunion here so Ray was wearing his Hawaii Marines shirt, along with his Korean Veteran hat. Many people standing near or passing by stopped to say "thank you for your service" to him. There were a lot of 'Semper Fi's shouted to him; a couple of Vietnam Veterans who were marching with their groups came over to salute him and shake his hand. Although these acts tend to embarrass him, I could not have been more proud.

Here is a guy who is so gung ho even his dogs wear the uniform:

After a while, the Boston couple came back to us and said the parade was all we had said it was, and more. The man's red-rimmed eyes told us what it meant to him.

Another fine parade and a fantastic show of patriotism. God Bless Ameria!

By the Dawn's Early Light

2011-09-11T13:43:00.000-07:00

September 11, 2011: we remember...we will never forget.

It was an entire weekend full of memorials for those gone, but not forgotten... and memories for at least one man who was there that day. Terry Revella, a member of the Las Vegas Marine Corps League, and a survivor of that terrible day, was the moving force behind the events here in Vegas. I salute him and all those who helped him make it happen.

8:46 am: the moment the first plane hit the Tower. Today that was the moment for the beginning of the Memorial Parade in New York City. In Las Vegas it was 5:46 am, our Memorial Parade timed to coincide with the one in the city where the terrorists killed without mercy and brought down buildings, but did not even cast a shadow on the spirit of the American people.

Planning ahead for this day, Mr. Ray & I had scoped out the parade route, picked out our parking spot & mapped out how to get there. Silly me... of course all the streets in that area of downtown were blocked off & detour signs ruled in the dark of the morn. However, a quick turn onto Las Vegas Blvd... an opening into a business (which turned out to be the driveway to the Nevada State Bank drive-thru ATMs) & after 'driving thru' we found ourselves in a parking lot which fronted on the parade route & right across the street from the bleachers. How good is that?!?

About half way thru the parade it got noisy behind us. Turned out to be a guy who was marching along and shouting "911 WAS AN INSIDE JOB"...911 WAS AN INSIDE JOB" (he was wearing a matching t-shirt). Then there was shouting even louder than his: "YOU'RE FULL OF SHIT"..."GO STRAIGHT TO HELL".... oh wow... I thought I recognized that voice. It was my beloved, utilizing his right to free speech as well. While I don't happen to agree with the 'conspirator' guy, I recognize that he has a right to his opinion. It simply was not the time or place to disrespect those who perished on that terrible day, or those of us who were there to honor their memory.

I am disappointed in the quality of the still photos I got... even though the flash was working, it mostly lit up the back of the heads of the people in front of me and left the parade in the dark. I did get a lot of video but I won't attempt to include it here (I know my limitations regarding electronic gadgets).

If you are familiar with my blogs, you know how I feel about parades. I love them, large or small. There's just something about the smell of the Harleys & the roar of the crowd... oh, waitaminit... ?is it?... (I always get those two mixed up). This parade was smaller than the 3 hour one last Veteran's Day, but it was well done and made me proud to be there watching & waving & clapping along with my fellow Americans. All together now...

GOD BLESS AMERICA

RV-ing 101

2011-06-18T17:44:00.000-07:00

Some years ago there was a camping trip to Three Rivers, CA. This trip involved a mother & father, three children about 10, 8 and 6 and a baby. Also the father's brother and his two children, ages 11 & 13. Ages are approximate here but you get the general idea. It also involved a rented 13 ft. travel trailer, a station wagon & a 2-seater sports car.

Prior to arriving at the campground, there was a flat tire incident which necessitated that the father & his brother breeze off to Bakersfield in the sports car while the mother sat in the station wagon alongside Interstate 5 on the hottest day of the year entertaining the aforementioned FIVE children and a baby.

Now, get this. Here it is... only thirty six years later... and that mother is...going camping again! However, she has learned a thing or two in those 36 years so this trip involved a rented 25 ft. C class recreational vehicle and fewer people, although it was a much l-o-o-o-n-ger trip (2380 miles).

Here is what we learned: in a C class RV, only the driver & the front seat passenger have access to the view through the windshield. All other passengers get the view from the large side window while they are seated at the table on the bench seats in the 'dining room' of said RV. Those bench seats are quite comfy for about 30 miles (of the 2380 mile traveled); after that, they are simply the dreaded bench seats.

We tried to keep track of 'lessons learned' on our adventure. First lesson: do not place your McDonald's large mocha frappe ON the table while traveling (that's what cup holders are for). We cleaned up that spill about half a block from our house. Lesson Two: be sure to close the refrigerator door FIRMLY... that lesson came some 100 feet further down the road from Lesson One. We had to stop (again) to pick up the rice pudding cups which had spilled out of the open refrigerator door. But never mind all that...here we are at one of our three stops at a KOA campground.

Mr. Ray, ready for another day in RV Land

We ate every breakfast at a Cracker Barrel restaurant; and when we fixed our own meals in the RV, we wished we were eating in a Cracker Barrel.

Our first night out, in Holbrook AZ, we discovered that the RV heater didn't work. We knew that because it was 40 degrees outside & we were freezing our tushes.

We also discovered that it is a rule that each and every KOA campground has a furry, friendly cat to make you welcome. (Ginger was tempted to catnap this one... but reason prevailed).

(I don't think that is a real rule).

Campgrounds... I have limited experience here; however, two of them do stand out in my mind. The first would be the aforementioned Three Rivers. I don't remember much about the grounds as I spent most of my time in the 13 ft. trailer, cooking real food (like a fool) for the nine people who were depending on me to feed them. I do remember one evening (it was hot in that trailer) when I had finally finished cleaning up the roast beef dinner I'd prepared, fixed myself a tall glass of iced tea and walked out to the campfire where all of the seasoned campers were gathered. As soon as I got there, and before I sat down, my beloved informed me that "the baby is crying". So I gave him my iced tea (in the face) and went to get the baby.

Some years after that, (I must have blanked out that first experience), we went camping in MEXICO with a bunch of square dancers who all had nice, self-contained "rigs". We were in a Ford van conversion... meaning it had a couch which would lay flat & a small ice box. Of course our friends were more than generous in sharing their facilities... but I still ended up using the campground bathroom. That would be the one with a dozen toilets... none of which would flush, and all of which were full to the brim. And... showers which didn't drain, meaning you had to step into four inches of someone else's recently vacated water if you wished to even come close to bathing.

But enough of fond memories. Now it is June 2011 and here we are on the road to Oklahoma. The KOA campgrounds were very nice with full hookups and their bathrooms were CLEAN and everything worked in there. I know.. I know.. we had our own traveling bathroom but the shower was a tad on the small side. The toilet flushed fine BUT... if you use the toilet, then sooner or later you must DUMP the 'stuff' (another fact of RV life).

But that is what FULL hookups mean; electricity to run the A/C without sucking up all your gas, water aplenty (if you should desire to bathe in a claustrophobically confined space), cable TV and a place to dump your stuff. To accomplish that, all you need to do is put on your rubber gloves, drag out the 4 inch dia. hose (knowing full well what has recently passed through it), sit on the ground and reach up under the RV siding to connect the hose to the outlet valve, etc. etc. I'm really not complaining here... Ginger did all that.

Anyway, in spite of traveling through the smoke of the worst fire in Arizona history, and in spite of constant winds which forced the driver to maintain a death grip on the steering wheel, and in spite of being pulled over by an Arizona Trooper (for no good reason), the RV trip was... OK. And the two days of family reunions in Oklahoma made every minute of it worthwhile... and then some.

A Granny Story

2011-01-13T20:25:00.000-08:00

In July 2002 after the Mr. and I had both retired from the work force, we moved from Simi Valley to Bear Valley Springs to "test the waters", so to speak and see if we really wanted to live in a rural environment. We did. So, in 2004 we expanded our rural-ness and bought a house situated on one acre which included a chicken house WITH chickens and a goat named Effie. The animals were a great source of entertainment to us (most of the time), and the grandkids loved to come to "the farm" and help with the chores. I remember Grandson Cody at about age four, introducing himself to the chickens: "Hi, I'm Cody"...
Soon, the animal antics inspired me to write stories for the grandkids; I called them the "GRANNY AND" stories and I will occasionally post some of them... I hope you enjoy.

GRANNY AND THE NANNY (GOAT)
A story for my grandkids

You kids all know that here on the ranch we have 10 chickens and an old goat (two if you count Papa Ray). The chickens go in and out of their house through a little opening with a door that slides up and down to open and close it. At night we must close them in so the varmints won’t come and eat them up… (varmints already did that to 4 of my hens and our beautiful Blackjack the rooster). And then in the morning we must go and open the door so they can run out and scratch and eat worms and other interesting things. And of course, each opening and closing requires that someone go tromping all the way across the barnyard, through rain, snow, mud and other unpleasant things underfoot…

So, one day I was thinking how nice it would be if we had a remote control to open and close that chicken door from the back yard (close to the house)… and I figured out just how we could do it with some rope and a few eyebolts and pulleys. So on Saturday, Papa Ray and I set to work and with Uncle Steven’s help, got everything into place and got the rope all threaded through the holes with the end of it attached to the shed right out in the back yard. And the little door slid up and down just like magic.

Well, about that time, Effie the Nanny Goat saw that rope waving in the breeze. You probably know that Effie just loves to eat… and also loves to scratch her head on just about anything… fences, bungee cords, people’s legs & butts… and ROPE!! Before we could say SCAT… there was Effie up on a rock and gnawing & scratching away like we had put that rope up there just for her!!

So we (well anyway me) had another bright idea. We would put a post in the middle of the barnyard and run the rope through an eyebolt at the top of the post, and that would put it high up out of Effie’s reach. So today, Uncle Steve dug a nice hole for the post got that all set into place. Once again we threaded the rope in all the right eyebolts and pulleys… and then watched as Effie (the goat from H---L) reared up, put her front feet on the post and proceeded to gnaw and scratch her head on the rope. Several times she got so enthusiastic about the scratching she got the rope around her neck and almost choked herself… and I almost let her!!

Well, back to the drawing board, as they say. Steve and Emilie have a really good idea to make an electric chicken door opener and I’m pretty sure we can do it. It will require a small electric motor such as you would get with a Gilbert Erector Set (which are no longer in production, but can be found on E-bay for mere hundreds of dollars)… So that will be our next big project… and if that doesn’t work, we will take care of Effie and you are all invited to the BBQ.

So that’s what’s happening on the ranch… Love, Gram December 19, 2004

Curious Effie

I Love A Parade

2010-11-11T19:20:00.001-08:00

I dare to hope... and am reasonably certain that patriotism is alive and well in our country. I know without a doubt that it is alive and RAMPANT in Las Vegas.
Today, November 11, 2010, we watched the full three hours of the Veterans Day parade. I was amazed (and thrilled) at the number of high school Junior ROTC groups that marched... Air Force, Navy, Army and Marine. Just as I was impressed yesterday by the high school students who heard Ray and several other veterans tell the stories of their wars and their military experiences. They were attentive and respectful; some of them came & thanked the speakers and some of them already have plans to go into the military when they graduate.
Most of the 'floats' in today's parade were simply filled with people who were/are in the military or who represented some organization which is connected to our military men and women. Of course, flags were everywhere; when the color guard marched by most people stood... a few did not. (My friend, Jayne, was screaming in my head "go across the street & tell those jackasses to stand up & respect our flag"... but I didn't.. cause I'm chicken).
Las Vegas is full of veterans... and apparently, most of them ride motorcycles... and they were all in the parade. FANTASTIC... there were lots of beautiful machines. We especially liked the three-wheelers. Hm-m-m-m, I think that's something my Raymie and I could do. (Note to children: hope you don't mind... Mom & Dad just spent your inheritance on a BMW three-wheeled motorcycle... see ya later).
The group I loved the best (even though it made me cry) was the Gold Star Families. There were moms and dads, wives, children, brothers and sisters of the fallen. They all wore white shirts, and gold stars. Many carried placards with pictures of their heroes; we must strive to remember not only those who have gone from us, but those who remain and must carry on without a loved one who left too soon.

Yessss... I just love parades... whether it be the 'Pioneer Days' in Watonga, Oklahoma (followed immediately by the bed races) or the biggest Veterans Day parade west of the Mississippi here in Las Vegas. And it is even more special when it includes a patriotic Santa in a pink sequinned suit.

God bless America

Zippity Doooo Dah No. 2

2010-11-09T13:29:00.000-08:00

I guess this proves the apple (acorn/walnut/whatever) doesn't fall far from the tree. This is son Steven on his trip down Fremont St. He was just a few seconds ahead of me... there are four ziplines so four brave souls can be floating above the crowd at the same time.

He and I agreed that this was a great adventure! I hope it remains in place so my other kids/grandkids(?) can take that ride.

Zippity Do-o-o Dah!!!

2010-11-09T06:10:00.000-08:00

It is I... clinging for dear life and sailing along Fremont St. waaaay above the cheering crowd.
Steven & I finally found the 'launching pad' ...after walking the length of 3 or 4 football fields... and rode the elevator up 5 stories. My first thought, as they were strapping me into the harness was: "why is this harness so small and flimsy"? Second thought: "I knew I should have gone to the restroom first".

Then we climbed the stairs to the launch pad where we were hooked up to this (hopefully very strong) cable, and after a few words of instructions which I couldn't hear because I was in the No. 4 spot... the attendant unclipped me and shoved me off into the wild neon yonder.

As I proceeded down the 800 feet of cable, I began to twist and turn and was uncertain if that was supposed to happen... not that I could do anything about it. So when I arrived at THE END platform, my back was turned & I wondered how I would stop this thing... but not to worry. Trained operators were there to bring me to a screeching halt and, of course, a photographer was there to capture the moment.

THE END

The Monument

2010-09-30T07:54:00.000-07:00

When the eagle makes a stand
Upon a distant land
The spirit of the Corps in in his eye,

He lays his anchor down

Upon the troubled ground

And the world knows the words Semper Fi

The Korean Peninsula was under Japanese rule from 1910 to the end of the second world war in 1945. At that time, the victorious allies divided the country at the 38th parallel into North Korea, occupied by Russian troops and South Korea, occupied by U.S. troops. By 1948 the political division had deepened beteen the two Koreas and North Korea established a communist government.

On June 25, 1950, the North Korean army invaded South Korea and pushed far into the south before being confronted by U.N. forces which came to the aid of the South Korean Army. These 15,000 men of the Tenth Corps included the 1st Marine Division (Reinforced), two battalions of the U.S. Army's 7th Division and a force of British Royal Marine Commandos. They routed the enemy and advanced north to the Chosin Reservoir, about 30 miles south of the Yalu River, the border between Korea and Red China.

On September 15, 2010, I was privileged to be at Camp Pendleton for the dedication of a monument to the Chosin Few. It was a perfect California day, early morning overcast skies giving way to soft rays of sun, accompanied by gentle ocean breezes.

The U.N. high command had assured the commanders in the field that the Chinese Army forces were not expected to cross the Manchurian border; the men would be home by Christmas. On November 27, 1950, in minus 30 degree temperatures, an estimated 125,000 Chinese communist troops poured over the border, isolated and surrounded the Tenth Corps there on the east side of the Chosin Reservoir.

September 15, 2010: The 1st Marine Division band played; there were prayers, there was a helicopter flyover. We pledged our allegiance, we sang the National Anthem and we listened while GySgt Joel Daniel played "Amazing Grace" on the bagpipe.

The U.N. forces were almost overwhelmed by the seemingly unending wave of enemy troops; the situation was so critical the U.N. high command had written these units off as lost. The fighting men however, not knowing all was lost, battled their way through enemy lines and road blocks, aided by air support from Navy, Marine and Air Force planes. From that action came the phrase "Retreat Hell! We're fighting in the other direction". On December 7 they made it to the village of Koto-ri, the entrance to the only road leading down the mountain and then on to the sea.

It must have seemed impossible, given the number of casualties and the conditions which hampered movement and treatment but the Division fought its way to the sea, bringing its dead, wounded and equipment. By December 24 the Tenth Corps was successfully evacuated to South Korea by the U.S. Navy and U.S. Air Force, along with nearly 100,000 North Korean civilian refugees.

September 15, 2010: We heard moving words from General James T. Conway, Commandant of the Marine Corps and keynote speaker, Captain Dale Dye, USMC (Ret). The monument was unveiled, the wreath was placed, echo/taps was played and we watched a dozen white doves fly away into the blue sky. We bowed our heads and prayed again.

In this epic battle the 15,000 allies suffered 12,000 casualties including more than 3,000 KIA, 6,000 WIA plus thousands of severe frostbite cases. The enemy sustained more than 45,000 casualties. A total of 17 Medals of Honor, 70 Navy Crosses and many Distinguished Service Crosses were awarded for the campaign, the most for a single battle in U.S. Military history.

"Whatever we were in that frozen long-ago and whatever we are now, we are bound as one for life in an exclusive fraternity of honor. The only way into our ranks is to have paid the dues of duty, sacrifice and valor by being there. The cost of joining, in short, is beyond all earthly wealth."

If you ever knew a combat veteran who came home from his war and would never talk about it, I recommend you see the documentary "The Chosin" by Brian Iglesias. It is available on Amazon.

Much of the information related here is taken from the Chosin Few News Digest and from an article and a song by Frank Gross which appears in the Dedication program. This event was sponsored by the Col. William E. Barber Chapter of the Chosin Few in Orange County.

Tidbits & Nitpicks

2010-08-30T07:58:00.000-07:00

TIDBIT: Sunglasses... whatever did our parents & grandparents do without them? Oh yeah, now I remember... they wore hats and/or bonnets. Me... I am grateful for my new prescription, polarized sunglasses (thank you, son John for showing me polarization). They are great for driving and make the world look beautiful (even when it's not). No longer do I need to wear those clunky sunglasses which fit over my seeing-eye glasses. The trick now is to remember to always take my clear, seeing-eye glasses with me... before I schlep all the way across a parking lot in the blazing sun with the asphalt melting & sticking to my feet only to discover when I'm inside the store that I can't see a thing... with my (wonderful, Rx, polarized sun-) glasses.

NITPICK: Berber carpet... who needs it?? Wickipedia says it was first invented by the Berber tribe in North Africa, using natural fibers (insert picture of beautiful, colorful rug). Today the carpets are more commonly made of nylon, olefin or wool. I don't have a clue what "olefin" is, but if it is a material that, once woven into a rug, is the color of dust, hurts your feet to walk on and is just plain U-G-L-Y... then that is what is in the house here in Vegas. It is difficult to keep clean and sooner or later, we will need to replace it (emphasis on sooner). 'Traffic areas' are beginning to show; and I'm not bothering to go after spots with a bottle of Resolve. I'm keeping an eye on carpet sales in the area... and seriously thinking of inviting all of the grandchildren over for a spaghetti dinner and setting up the kiddie table in the middle of the living room.

TIDBIT: Speaking of carpet, many years ago we bought a house in Texas with 'off white' carpet. That was OK because it was only the two of us. Then, along came John... and along came Ginger... and David was on his way, so by that time we really needed to replace the carpet. So, with trusty Sears card in hand, new carpet was purchased and installed in every room. I was ever s0 protective of it... admonishing the children (yelling at the kids)... "don't walk on that carpet with your shoes on".. don't you dare eat that cracker in the living room"... etc. One day when John was just over 3 years old and Ginger was about 1-1/2, I walked into John's room & he was standing there with a Dixie cup full of water. I said to him (nicely) "you mustn't bring water into your room... you might spill it and ruin your new carpet". He drank it very carefully... I turned and there was Ginger with a Dixie cup of water in her (tiny, shaky) hand. Thinking fast, I said "can Mommy have a drink?" She happily complied, handed me the cup and Mommy drank it all down in one gulp. Then John said "Ginner got hers out of the potty".

TIDBIT: One evening recently, we discovered a baby bird in our front yard. He probably tried to fly too soon and was on the ground in the blazing Las Vegas heat. We filled a bottle cap with water & watched as he drank, and drank, and drank. We then filled it with sugar water and (reluctantly) left him to his fate. After all, we're not exactly a bird sanctuary, and if we had brought him inside, Smokey the cat would have thought we had just expanded the menu. Next morning, the bottle cap was completely empty and the bird was nowhere to be seen. Although I am well aware of the many scenarios which might have happened overnight, I prefer to think that Baby Bird was so filled with strength and energy by our ministrations that he flew away to begin a better life.

BYE BYE, BIRDIE

We Will Never Forget

2010-06-14T05:07:00.000-07:00

LEAVING FOR KOREA, 1950

On June 13 there was an "Appreciation Event" held at the Orleans Hotel in Las Vegas in honor of the American Veterans of the Korean War. This event, commemorating the 60th anniversary of the beginning of the Korean War was hosted by the organization "Friends of American Veterans of the Korean War". Most of the speakers, including the MC, were Korean; most were too young to have experienced the war; all of them said how humbled and honored they were to be in the presence of the men and women of the U.S. Military who saved their nation from communism.

South Korea is a nation which has not forgotten that the United States, along with Canadian and Australian troops, fought for their freedom alongside their own military to rout the North Korean army and then to defend against the Chinese threat which poured into the conflict, 200,000 strong.
I myself have been the beneficiary of South Korea's gratitude; that government has a program called "Revisit Korea". In 1999, Ray and I flew to Seoul and from the moment we touched down, we were guests of the ROK. They put us up in a five-star hotel, furnished all our meals, hosted all our travels into the countryside. Our buses had banners reading "Korean War Veterans", and when we drove down the streets, the Korean people came to attention and saluted and waved. Our hosts were more gracious and appreciative than we could have imagined.
The Appreciation Event was a fine evening; many Korean ladies were dressed in traditional costumes. The hall was lined with young women in white suits, each with different colored collars and lapels, who bowed and said "Thank You" in Korean. There was music from the Global Symphonic Band. We sang our National Anthem and (listened to) the Korean National Anthem. General Douglas MacArthur was there, or at least someone who looked just like him and spoke eloquently about the "police action" in Korea. Each veteran in attendance was presented with a medal of honor in appreciation for their service.
The four services were recognized with their own marching songs and as the music played, "Caissons Go Rolling", "Anchors Aweigh", US Airforce Song" and the "Marine Corps Hymn", the old soldiers and marines got up and began to 'march' around the room. There was white hair and no hair; many leaned on their canes, some on walkers; some stood straight, some bent. One speaker had commented: "when you went to Korea you were young... and good looking. Tonight you are still good looking". And they were; it made me proud to see them.
In our own country, I think the Korean conflict is not well known. There are a lot of books out there from which we can learn more; I intend to do just that. But one thing I do know: the South Korean people will never forget.

VETERAN OF THE KOREAN WAR, 2010

Lessons I Have Recently Learned

2010-04-19T05:33:00.000-07:00

Have you noticed? It's not only pickle jars that are more difficult to open these days. Have you tried to pry apart a 'zip-lock' bag of sliced Muenster cheese or Black Forest ham? Or even a bag of potato chips?! It is nearly impossible! And don't even get me started on those 'childproof' caps on my medicine bottles... you know what I mean.

I have come to realize that after one reaches a certain age one should not attempt to keep on doing those things which were nearly effortless in times gone by. For example, recently we had the "opportunity" to participate in the clean-up, fix-up, paint-up of a rental property. This is what I learned from that experience:
1. If you decide to help paint, you should not get on a ladder to paint all the way to the ceiling. This is dangerous.
2. Because you are unable to bend over much nowadays, in order to reach down low on the wall you can sit on a little short stool. However, you will be unable to get up from there.
3. You should certainly never sit on the floor to paint the baseboards (see above).
4. Even though you wear "paint clothes" (you know what I mean... the jeans you never wear in public because they make your butt look big), and even though you go through the whole day without a drop of paint anywhere on you... as soon as you put on your jacket so you can leave this chamber of torture, you will lurch into a wall and discover that the paint is still wet there.
5. You will HATE the word "mini-blind" after you have thoroughly washed every slat of every blind in the house.
6. While replacing the cover plates on all the electrical switches and outlets, you will drop those teeny little screws over and over again. Eventually, at least one of them will fall into the heater/AC register located on the floor and be lost forever.
7. Your body will ache in places you didn't know existed and in ways heretofore unheard of.
8. You will curse the day you ever invested in rental property.

Putting all that aside... here we are on the Las Vegas monorail with Gus:

A very good day, April 3, 2010

Life in the big city

2009-12-27T12:53:00.000-08:00

So, the cat's favorite place is cuddled up next to (or on) his master's tummy... second fave is in the office chair with his new little buddy. Buddy looks really real and he purrs and his tummy moves in and out (like breathing). He can't get into the litter box but now and then squeezes out a couple of little plastic poops.

waitaminit... I just made that last part up...

Okay, so our garage door is one of the five you can see here... could you pick it out while driving backward... and slightly tipsy? (j/k about that). Finally figured out how to spot our garage door... open it before you get there!! Duh...

We went out yesterday (day after Christmas), headed to Henderson for a few errands. First of all I discovered the (heretofore undiscovered) LAS VEGAS PREMIUM OUTLET MALL which happened to be situated right on the way to the freeway I was attempting to enter. Thirty minutes and two dangerous traffic moves later, we were on I-15 north. After a while I became aware that I wasn't recognizing anything along the way, glanced at the vehicle compass & discovered I was heading to Utah... not Henderson as planned. Long story short... we made a very big loop (all the while thinking I knew what I was doing) & finally crossed the original freeway we should have taken in the first place. That's OK... in general, the Mr. and I agree to view these excursions as an "adventure"... and enjoy the view.
We ended our day at the Sunset Station Casino where I was playing nickel Keno... betting the MAX of course (20 cents). But I hit 5 out of 5 numbers which won me 3200 nickels (that's $160 folks)... So... after that we ate a Fatburger and came home (opening the garage door prior to getting there). Life in the big city...

2009-12-04T16:50:00.000-08:00

Wow! It's been so long since I blogged I forgot my own password. Lucky for me, I keep a list of passwords handy. Lots has happened since I last wrote... for starters, the Mr. and I moved to Las Vegas (yeah, moved) and we are still getting settled. We'll still be living in Bear Valley part of the time so didn't bring much from there. We bought some new stuff and have been haunting garage sales & thrift stores to fill in the gaps. Fun... like being newly wed & broke (again).
Today I was backing into our driveway to unload our 'haul' & kept wondering why the garage door opener wasn't working. Ray finally said "you're in the wrong driveway"... the opener was working fine... our door was going up & down like crazy.
Another change for us: one of our 2 kitty boys disappeared in BVS (probably a coyote snack) so his brother (Smokey) was elevated from outdoor/garage cat to house cat. And since we've been here in Vegas he has pretty much taken over... we just refer to him as "Your Kittiness"... such as: "excuse me for sitting in your chair, Your Kittiness". That would be the (previous) office chair, made extra comfy for YK with one of Papa Ray's warm, furry sweaters.
I witnessed a near miracle this morning on the (always busy) I-15 freeway. Guy in a Cadillac swerved to avoid a chair in his lane; lost control, spun back & forth across all lanes a couple of times & finally did a complete 360 & stopped upside the median wall... all this without hitting or being hit. My advice to that boy would be: as soon as you change your pants, get yourself to the nearest casino... today is your LUCKY day!!

Hello Dolly

2009-08-25T12:54:00.000-07:00

When I was very young, we lived on a rented farm called the Pitts Place. The house on that farm had two rooms and a basement; eventually, seven of us lived there. One of the rooms was a kitchen/dining room with a big wood-burning cook stove which contained a 'reservoir'... a container of water that was always warm from the heat of the stove. This is the room where we took our weekly (?) baths in the winter, in a big round galvanized metal wash tub. In the summer we had our outdoor shower, consisting of a big barrel mounted high on a platform on the side of the barn which was near the windmill. There was a pipe in the bottom of that barrel (with an on/off valve) & hanging from that pipe was a tin can with holes punched in the bottom. The barrel was filled from the windmill and warmed by the sun so (if you were first in line) you could have very comfortable shower.
The other room was a bedroom for my folks and my sister, Nora and me. The basement was a bedroom for my two older brothers. When little brother came along (see previous blog) he slept with Mom & Dad.
This was late 30's, early 40's and money was tight. There were not any frills in our lives...but of course, we didn't know that. At Christmas time, I don't know what my brothers received; it seems to me that Nora and I always shared a gift. Once I remember us getting a little red wagon, and when I was five, we woke up on Christmas morning and there in the bed between us was a doll. This story is about that doll.
After my parents both passed on we siblings gathered at their house and in a very civilized manner, divvied up the remains of their lives. Somehow, brother Ed got the box which had the doll in it. Evidently, Mom had kept her all those years, even though her head was broken. Some time later, Ed was about to toss the doll but my niece Cami rescued her and even took her to a doll doctor who gave her a new head and repaired some other blemishes.
Just recently, much to my surprise and delight, Cami sent me this doll who is now more than 67 years old. Thank you Cami, for being so thoughtful. I got her a new dress and bloomers, shoes & socks and she is now on display in the china cabinet. Neither my sis nor I can remember if we named her, or if so what the name was... so I have named her Toots. That was my mother's nickname.
Welcome home Toots

My three brothers

2009-07-14T08:27:00.001-07:00

I am sorting through boxes and boxes of pictures (again) and came across this one... my three brothers, date unknown but taken in the kitchen of the 'home place' in Oklahoma. On the left, brother Don, second oldest who just celebrated his 80th birthday this year. He was/is a preacher... still getting behind the podium at any & every opportunity. He recently performed the marriage ceremony for his grandson (Jake, you might want to check if he is licensed in Georgia just to be sure everything is legal).
On the right, brother Vern... the brother who abruptly ended my reign as the baby of the family which, I am convinced had an adverse effect on my ability to mature into a responsible adult. He is the only one of the five siblings who never left Oklahoma and I'm pretty sure the state is better off for that.
In the center is brother Edwin... the short brother. He was nicknamed "Big Shorty" early in life and I can still remember my dad calling him that even after he was a grown man. You can see from the grin on his face that this brother was all about having fun. He never missed giving everyone a call on their birthday... and no matter what time zone you were in, that call would come at five o'clock in the morning. "Good morning! Happy Birthday", his trademark calling card.
Brother Ed left us in 1997 and I imagine he is making sure everyone in heaven is getting up early, birthday or not. When my time here is done and I get that celestial phone call, I am sure it will be Edwin who is on the other end... and I am positive the call will come at 5:00 a.m.

Alas, poor Morty

2009-05-29T17:50:00.001-07:00

Recently, as I was shuttling groceries from truck to kitchen, I noticed that both cats were out on the lawn, crouching and pouncing and, in general, acting like cats. At one point, Smokey had his paw stuck down in a hole-in-the-ground... up to his little cat elbow, and evidently he managed to scare up an underground creature which I'm pretty sure is a mole.

Above, you see Smokey and Morty Mole (he was so cute I had to name him) taking stock of each other. Bandit Cat is just to the left, keeping a sharp eye on Morty while Smokey alternately cuffed him around and then completely ignored him (it's a cat thing).

You want a piece of me???

I'm pretty sure that's what ol' Morty was saying to Smokey at this moment. He was such a feisty little guy I was tempted to interfere and set him free, but didn't because I don't really want a bunch of little Mortys burrowing under my lawn. Eventually, Smokey got tired of the game & took Morty to his going-away party. I didn't witness any more of that exercise... just noticed next morning, the obligatory body parts which had been left where we would be sure to see them and know the kitty boys are earning their keep. Ah, life can be cruel... but then you don't want to mess with Mother Nature.

Addendum to previous blog

2009-05-15T07:25:00.000-07:00

I have more to say about this little electronic marvel; I call it "RT"... short for Ruby Tunes... Ruby because of its color & tunes because of what it does. We're learning new things about it most every day. For instance, the first time I was 'loading' music onto it (with Steven's help), it went into a "synchronizing" frenzy & when it finished, had used up one of the four gigs of space it has. That is a bunch in terms of memory! We were puzzled until we noticed that while it was fooling around inside my computer, it had grabbed a bunch of pictures & documents which it can display on its 1.2 x 1.6 inch window. I haven't looked at all of that yet, but did see (and will keep) the photo you see here...my beloved being Mr. Texas a few years back (well, actually 50 years ago). We have loaded music from Patsy Cline to Pavaroti, Elton to Elvis and we're not finished yet! We still have CDs and LP albums (from the 50's) which, with the help of yet another electronic gadget, we will convert to CDs & then transfer to Ruby Tunes. Occasionally when we are listening, a strange song will come out of nowhere (we finally figured out that some 'music' was preloaded on RT). I'm pretty sure it is Heavy Metal since I think it is the sound one would hear immediately after a musician had dropped a heavy metal cannonball on his foot... (no offense, Kim K). So, we have some clean up to do on the files...next project is to find the delete button on little ol' RT so we can truly personalize our music.

Technology runs rampant

2009-05-13T15:06:00.001-07:00

Things have certainly changed...the crank phone shown here is the one I grew up with, back on the farm. It actually belonged to my grandparents, who owned the farm before my parents bought it when I was about 8 years old. In those days, the phones were all on a "party" system... eight homes on the same telephone line. Individual 'rings' (two longs, two shorts, one long/one short, etc) determined who the call was intended for... however, that was irrelevant to the neighborhood ladies who listened in on every call... no matter whose 'ring' had rung. My own mom never missed an opportunity to know what was going on in someone else's business... I think that phone was the forerunner of the TV soap opera.

That might very well explain my own aversion to telephones today. As a teenager, knowing that any 'private' call would be shared by at least 4 or 5 neighbors made one hesitant to make or receive calls. To make a call, you had to twirl the little crank on the right hand side of the phone... one lo-o-o-o-ng crank would get you the operator in town & she would then put you in touch with the telephonee of your choice.

The little gadget on the left is, of course, today's cell phone. What a marvel of technology! It affords us the luxury(?) of never again being out of touch with friends and family... or even the telemarketers who can now plague us even when we are not at home! My cell phone is fairly simple... I don't text... in fact I am lucky to hear it in time to answer before it goes to voice mail; then I have to get the manual to figure out how to hear the message.
But, my latest technological goody is a teeny gadget which can hold about 1500 songs (as if I ever even heard of that many songs) and play them to me in my ear, or in the truck, or on the new boombox which can go from room to room or outside on the patio. It's pretty easy to 'load'... I just had to "rip" and "sync" and there were a bunch of our CDs (a marvel in themselves), now residing in that 2 inch x 3 inch piece of technology... it boggles the mind!

Sometimes I wonder what my parents would think... I recall that about 1985, I was telling my Dad about using an ATM (new technology at that time). He heard me out and then said, "I was sort of hoping I would miss the computer age". I'm glad I didn't miss the computer age, although keeping up with it all can sometimes make one weary. I think I have to take a nap now.

Just for the smelluvit

2009-04-28T12:58:00.000-07:00

We noticed that when Ray takes off his shoes, Bandit Cat goes berserk... twisting & wiggling until he gets his head as far as possible into the deep (and smelly) recesses of said shoe. He is not a small cat so you can see he is not able to get all of him in there. Evidently, whatever he finds in there causes him great pleasure, as you can see by the look on his face in the picture above.
Those two kitty boys tried my patience severely a couple of nights ago. I was trying to get them to come in for the night (into the garage) and Bandit ran into the sunroom with a large mole dangling from his mouth. Of course, Smokey tried his best to share in the prize & they were both running around the room with me screaming & trying to drive them into the garage. Finally, Smokey (in a snit) ran out the back door into the dark & I got Bandit (and his mole) into the garage. I kept checking every 20 minutes or so, calling "kitty, kitty" out the back door but no Smokey. Meanwhile, Bandit was still in the garage and after a while he started having a fit to get into the sunroom. By then the mole had disappeared... I probably don't want to know where. So I opened the back door again, walked away and when I turned around... there was Smokey rolling around on the floor and playing with his very own (dead) mole...looking for all the world like he was telling Bandit "see... you're not so smart". More screaming & chasing and they finally settled down out in the garage... and next day... there was not hide nor hair of either mole. Sometimes I wonder... but, like I said... I don't really want to know.

Sometimes I wonder...

2009-04-15T12:47:00.000-07:00

Like today... I wonder why a temperature of 34 degrees feels so much colder on April 15 than it did on January 15? Additionally... WHY are we having temps in the 30's in APRIL for heaven's sake??? But I guess I can't really complain after the beautiful, sunny Easter Sunday we just had.

And I wonder why every now and then this thought flashes through my mind: Omigosh! The cleaning lady is coming tomorrow and this place is a mess! So I wonder why I spend a whole day getting ready so the CL can spend half a day getting rid of our dust collection and vacuuming in places I can't reach. And then I spend a few more days looking for the things I hurriedly stashed away so the CL wouldn't have to deal with the clutter. Just wondering...

Like yesterday as I was sitting through the process of being "permed" I began to wonder... what possesses us ladies to submit ourselves to this modern day torture? After the B.O. (beauty operator) shampoos & creme rinses us, he partitions our locks into small sections and rolls each one of those sections onto a small plastic rod after first wrapping those hairs with a cigarette paper (anyway, it sure looks like a cigarette paper). That takes a while and is a little bit painful as the rods have to be rubber-banded tight to your head. Then he squirts some awful smelling liquid all over the rods & puts a plastic shower cap on your head, and you wait. Not too long, or else the permanent wave you went in for will be a permanent frizz for the next few months. The next step is a rinse with warm water, then the rods are squirted with another liquid, the 'neutralizer' (sounds a little ominous doesn't it) and then a final warm water rinse. You now have little ringlets all over your wet head. But... the B.O., using a hand held hair dryer and a brush, will attempt to pull those little ringlets into a straight line... so that he can then, using a hot curling iron, put some curl back into your hair... only not little ringlets, something larger and softer and more to your liking. Finally, you are combed out, fluffed up, sprayed down and sent on your merry way. Sometimes I wonder...

That's allotta bull...

2009-04-06T11:35:00.000-07:00

This story is about a bull, but first a little history. My dad (born 1902) had an eighth grade education but was one of the smartest (self-educated) men I've ever known. He devised an irrigation system for his farm in Oklahoma in 1953 when no one else around was irrigating. Long story short... the irrigation well consisted of a six-sided hole in the ground, twenty feet deep and maybe 10 to 12 feet in diameter. There was a pump in the bottom of that hole which drew water from six sandpoints which had been driven another 20 feet into the ground to reach the water. Please don't ask me what is a sandpoint or much of anything about that well cause I was a teenager then and had more interesting things to think about.
Well... eventually the irrigation system was no longer used and somewhere in the sixties the well was abandoned and covered with a wooden lid. One day in 1968 or '69, Dad's big ol' black bull came up missing. By then I was living in Texas so obviously, I was no help but the folks still living there looked and looked for that bugger. Finally in desperation, my little brother walked out into the field where that irrigation well was; wel-l-l-l... there was a big hole in the lid of that well and... there was that big ol' black bull standing at the bottom of the well... unhurt, but mad as hell!
So... how do you get a big ol' bull out of a 20 foot deep hole? And still be alive after you do? Not to worry... little brother went to the neighbor & got him and his dozer to come over and they began to push dirt into that hole... a little bit at a time. When there was a pile of dirt built up they would throw dirt clods at BOBB (big ol' black bull) until he climbed up on the dirt and then do it all over again. Eventually the dirt built up to the point that BOBB could climb on out of that hole... by then the clod throwers were hiding out and giving him plenty of room.
When my little brother told this story at the recent Texas reunion I told him to be sure and write it down but I figured he never would so I just did it myself (with his permission) and am giving him full credit for the whole thing. Thank you, Vern.
Oh yes... after hearing that story one of my nieces said "up until then those machines had been called dirt dozers... but ever since have been known as bulldozers."

Eager beginnings, iffy moments and happy endings

2009-03-24T11:56:00.000-07:00

Brother Don, his daughter Becca, my Ginger

We just completed a whirlwind of a (driving) trip to Georgetown, Texas. Prior to leaving, Mr. Ray wasn't feeling the greatest, what with a bad cough & all. So we dutifully doctored up & got all the meds (we thought) he would need and headed east... after picking up Ginger, Bob and Gus. However, as we progressed in mileage, Ray felt worse and by the time we got there Friday night, it was obvious to anyone who ever knew Ray Huecker that he was not himself. So, Niece Teresa (aka Angel Girl) took us to the ER and patiently waited with me while they did a multitude of tests, most of which ruled out any bad stuff. Turns out, along with the (by now) terrible cough, the Mr. was also dehydrated, so very soon after the IV fluids went in, he began to look and sound like his real self (thank goodness). Long story short... he got a lot better and continues his recovery even now.
We have that and many other things to be thankful for now that we are back home with our cats and chickens. For starters, we are just so glad we were able to be in Texas to observe and celebrate my brother's 80th birthday, and the fact that he had made it to that ripe old age without becoming a curmudgeon.** We are surely grateful to his wife, his kids and his kids-in-law for putting the party together in a (seemingly) effortless way. Food, drink and entertainment all coming our way ad infinitum, with plenty of time to relax, visit and reminisce.
Brother Don and wife are thankful for the beautiful weather which allowed folks to sit outside all day & into the evening... thus saving wear and tear on the rugs & furniture inside. Don likes to take credit for that, claiming he has an "IN" with certain forces of nature.
On a personal note, the Mr. and I are so glad Ginger, Bob & Gus were able to be with us on this journey, giving moi much relief from driving duties... and we are eternally grateful to whatever forces (heavenly or otherwise) that kept us safe even as we were hurtling across the Arizona desert at 85 (or 90) mph when moi was not behind the wheel.
Final thought: getting together with loved ones at every opportunity is an effort richly rewarded. I recommend it.

**This is the perfect spot for a snide remark but today I am feeling kind (and don't want to chance that maybe he really does have an "IN" somewhere).

Time Change

2009-03-08T09:57:00.001-07:00

Did you remember to 'spring forward' this morning? We have a variety of clocks in several rooms so it is a bit of a chore (not even counting trying to change the time on my watch with its teeny little stem). Just before Christmas, the kitchen clock with its (appropriate) rooster motif, fell off the wall and broke... so, I hung up a lovely Christmas clock which is still there, caroling to us every hour. Maybe that's a little out of date now, so I'll replace it with the office clock (shown here) until I can find another rooster that can tell time. Maybe this would be a good time for me to put away the banner tacked to the outside of the garage... fall scenery with a Thanksgiving turkey in the middle. Oh... and while I'm at it, I might as well pull out the red, white and blue plastic flowers which have been putting on a patriotic show since before the fourth of July. One thing I'll say for myself: I always get things done... although not always in a timely manner.

Reclaiming our territory

2009-03-02T08:18:00.001-08:00

I love our sunroom. At one time it was a patio but is now all enclosed, with many big windows, good views, lots of sunshine. It was a great place to have a meal, walk the treadmill, listen to music, read or work the crossword puzzle.
Enter the cats. When we got those two kitty boys last spring we fixed them up a 'cat lair' in the garage... carpet, chairs with cushions, rugs, blankets, food and water and a covered litter pan. What more could a cat want?? Well, come winter, it seemed a little inhospitable for them to be out in the cold garage, so we let them come into the sunroom... big mistake! Despite our efforts at shooing them off the table and out of the bookcase...they had their way. Smokey's favorite place was in the middle of a big flower arrangement (which he consistently dumped onto the floor). I'm pretty sure Bandit was the one who frequently rearranged my cookbooks by taking them off the shelf and putting them (in random order) on the floor. Ditto the DVDs and CDs... nothing was off limits. Eventually we just gave in and the sunroom became the CATROOM. Cats ruled!
The weather has now become warmer... hey, kitty boys! Guess what?? The cat lair in the garage has been refurbished; yesterday I spent several hours vacuuming, cleaning, polishing in the sunroom and an equal amount of time convincing the 'boys' that they will no longer rule that particular roost.
I love our sunroom.

Birthday Girl

2009-02-24T07:53:00.001-08:00

February 24, 1967, driving down Central Expressway to Baylor Hospital in Dallas, the Mr and I decided we really should pick a girl's name... just in case...even though we were convinced this baby was a boy. (Back in the day, there were no sonagrams, ultra sounds, etc to detect what sort of plumbing the baby had... consequently... ya just paid yer money & took yer chances). So, hours and hours later... our baby girl whirled into the world and never looked back! Last Sunday we were able to celebrate the event at a new Claim Jumper restaurant in Palmdale; good food, good company.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY GIRL!!!

Questions without answers

2009-02-22T07:59:00.000-08:00

Question: Why is this snowman eating Steven's hands? We'll never know the answer, but I am happy to report that (as of 2/22/09) the snowman is reduced to a small pile of dirty snow while Steven is perfectly fine (and still has all his fingers).

Question: Who or what is pulling out all the feathers on Dixie Bell's butt? Especially now in the dead of winter? Does that barearseness cause DB to have goose bumps... or would she necessarily have to have chicken bumps? Can someone out there knit her a pair of chicken bloomers?

Question: If the expiration date is (long) past on your carton of buttermilk... and the milk has "turned"... how would you know?

Question: What is a 'cob web'? I know what they look like (I have plenty)... but where do they come from? I have observed a spider spinning its web... a fascinating sight by the way, but I'm pretty sure cobs don't create webs. Having grown up on a farm, I have seen many a cob. Incidentally, it is a myth that corn cobs were used in the outhouses of yesteryear (that's what the Sears catalog was for). Ah yes, the outhouse... a distant memory. It was a simple structure with a 'bench seat' which had two holes cut in it... one small/medium for little or half grown people and one big hole for the grownups. When I was about 8 years old, I saw my first indoor toilet... and thought how clever that when the seat was down, that was for small/medium folks and when the seat was up, that was for the fatasses to sit on. But, I digress... and I still don't know who makes cob webs.

Itsno joke!

2009-02-14T12:37:00.000-08:00

Yesterday (Friday the 13th, to be exact) it snowed like a fury in the morning hours... then, like magic, the sky cleared, sun popped out and it was just beautiful. Of course... yers truly just couldn't resist laying out and soaking up some rays. Unfortunately, I dozed off... and the snow came back... and, well... you can see what happened. Lucky for the Mr. he likes his women a little on the chilly side!

Washing the washing machine

2009-02-05T00:25:00.001-08:00

Am I the only one whose washing machine gets dirty... on the inside?? Isn't the thing always full of hot soapy water? And doesn't the agitator always have lots of towels and shirts and undies rubbing up against it? I understand that the grime comes from the towels and shirts and undies, but shouldn't it all just rinse away and not stick to the blades of the bloomin' agitator??
And the fabric softener dispenser... don't even get me started! It holds back a smidgeon of that yellow (or blue or green) stuff in every load and pretty soon... (well, four years later)... there is a coating on the inside of that little cup that has to be scraped out with a bulldozer!
I just don't get it... how can that stuff stay in there against the torrents of rinse water that pour through the system? I don't know but I suspect it is the same law of physics that allows (encourages, even) tiny specs of dust to cling like velco onto a fan blade that is twirling around fast enough to cool off a roomful of middle-aged women in the midst of a hot flash.
Life is full of mystery.

Flashback!

2009-01-25T16:49:00.000-08:00

There is a small cafe here in our town which actually started out as a sort of coffee and tea house and a place for aspiring poets to go and hear themselves recite. We had never been there, but on a recent day, saw that they are now serving breakfast and lunch. So, not being ones who ever pass up an opportunity for a new adventure... we dropped in for lunch.
Shades of the sixties!! It was hippyville all over again from the very colorful walls to the somewhat beat-up overstuffed love seat & coffee table taking up a large area in the small 'cafe'. The tables and chairs were an eclectic* (translation: nothing matched) combination, and there was not much room to move about the room. The paraphenalia of the 60's (people with their bongs) had been replaced by people with their laptops. We weren't ever hippies, altho we did dress up as hippies once for a costume party; however, we do remember that era.
So, we stepped up to the counter and ordered... a salad and a sandwich, both of which involved chicken salad... than sat at a teeny table to await our repast. There was one nice-sized table there but it was covered with jigsaw puzzle pieces and hovered over by a very serious puzzle lady who did not welcome any company. After about 20 minutes, we were told that they didn't have any more chicken salad & would I care for turkey... and would Ramon care for salmon salad on his salad. He would. So finally, I got my organic whole wheat bread* (translation: very dense and very dry) sandwich and the Mr. got his salad with a blob of salmon salad (he swears it was tuna) and we finished up & left the sixties... hopefully for the last time.

What's with these Huecker feet??

2009-01-21T17:37:00.000-08:00

It started with me last August. I tore a tendon in my foot while doing nothing more interesting than taking a step. So I hobbled around for six weeks in very stylish casts (purple, pink and blue). In December, grandson Anthony was a passenger in a Rhino, an ATV which is all caged in (perfectly safe). Somehow, it turned over and all would have been okay except that, instinctively, Anthony stuck out his foot... and broke a couple of bones. He was sporting a cast for 3 weeks but is castless now and doing fine.
Then, just last weekend, d-i-l Emilie managed to kick the raised brick platform around their wood burning stove and O-U-C-H... broke her middle piggy. Since it is almost impossible to put a cast on a piggy, she is taped up and wearing a special shoe. And... walking very carefully.
Listen up Hueckers! Be careful out there...

A New Love

2009-01-19T19:52:00.000-08:00

Yes, ever since Christmas Eve 2008, there is a new love in my life. He is round and flat and I call him Sparky. He is a little robotic vacuum cleaner and, listen up girls, every woman's dream! I just set up a couple of electronic barriers to keep him from straying too far, push his button and he zips around back and forth, in circles, in loop-de-loops cleaning his heart out. He will eventually run out of energy but if he is in the same room as his charger, will mosey over to it and hoist his little butt up onto the magic buttons all by himself. In a couple of hours he is ready to do it all over again. Who could ask for anything more?

What now??

2009-01-15T17:32:00.000-08:00

Oh wow... I just signed up to be a blogger... and I don't even know what that means! Maybe I'll just ramble for a while and see what happens.
Today the Mr. had an MRI on his head at the VA in West Los Angeles (translation: a six hour drive gets us there and back home). The good news... there IS a brain in there and we think it's in pretty good shape. I'm only too happy to chauffeur my beloved to his various appointments... even though mostly... when I drive for more than four hours... when I get out of the truck, I want to be standing in front of a casino!!