Beer Can Chicken

This weekend seemed like a good time to try out some new recipes on my hubby and son Steven. So, on Saturday night I made a salad which featured black beans and Feta cheese, and also a corn casserole which just might be the best one I ever made.  Months before, I had happened on a bargain Beer Can Chicken gadget, complete with slotted pan to roast your veggies and custom built "cone" to hold that bird upright while he was turning brown & becoming delicious.

Why not? Flush with my Saturday night epicurean victory, Sunday seemed like the perfect time to 'do the chicken'. With advice from my friend Mike (king of beer can chickening) I set about the task but... soon discovered... it ain't easy!
The aforementioned gadget was outfitted with a place for the beer can; however, I only had bottled beer. I improvised. Found a long neglected bottle of Guiness in the back of the fridge; seemed like it would be a good one to get rid of so, I poured it into an empty black bean can and inserted it in the beer can place.
Time now to mount the chicken on the cone. He was all covered with a spicy rub, looking delicious already but, that chicken was not thrilled with the idea of the "CONE". He refused to sit down far enough that the hood of the grill could be closed. So the Mr. and I performed an emergency episiotomy on him... to no avail. Now we're getting desperate... the heat is escaping from the grill and all that spicy rub is falling off that damned bird!
Finally I removed the black bean beer can, poured the beer into the can holder and then replaced the cone-with-bird-atop which was now short enough to fit inside the grill. Two plus hours later... who would have thought that red potatoes could roast for two hours and still not be cooked...(finish in skillet). The bird was (mostly) done but required a quick trip to the microwave oven... all in all, it seemed like an exercise in futility. I was glad we had some leftover Black Bean Salad.

Goodbye Viola

Ginger will be participating in a Breast Cancer Awareness event later this year. She is doing this to honor the memory of her good friend Viola, who lost that battle in December. Ginger expressed to me that she wanted to speak at Viola's memorial service but was not sure she could manage to do that. After much thought, she wrote a poem to Viola. This is what she wrote:

If love could have cured your illness

You wouldn't have been down a day.

I know that you weren't ready

We all prayed for you to stay.

 

They tell me that God has a bigger plan,

Though I don't know what it is.

What I do know is, that you are so loved,

And very dearly missed.

 

We will see each other again someday

I don't know the time or date.

What I hope is that you will hang around

And meet me at the Pearly Gates.

 

We will all find out one day, I think

When our day on earth is through

That Viola has painted the Pearly Gates pink

Just to show me and you.

 

So, until we meet again my friend

I will think of you every day.

And I will be so glad you are waiting there

With Jesus to show me the way.

 

Ginger is a Deacon in the Presbyterian Church that she and her family attend. Each year the Deacons are expected to write a "devotional" for the Lenten book. This year the subject is: THE LORD MADE ME LAUGH. This is Ginger's devotional:

 

THE LORD MADE ME CHUCKLE

The day was Sat. Jan. 5th 2013. My dear friend Viola was being put to rest after having lost her battle with cancer on Dec. 5th 2012. I really felt a "need" to speak at her service about how much we loved her and will miss her. However, I think I would rather eat live worms than stand and address a crowd. For a week or so, I wrote and wrote, 5 pages in all. There is no way I could stand and read 5 pages of words without crying and boring everyone to tears, no way. I instead decided to sum it up with a poem. I tried to practice reading aloud to Bobby and couldn't get past the 2nd stanza. For 3 days I prayed about this. I had sleepless nights, it really wore on me. I prayed for strength, I prayed for grace, I prayed for courage and a clear voice. I prayed for God to get me through it. On that day, the church was very full. Probably close to 200 people. The pastor started to ask if anyone wanted to speak. I stood up and as I grabbed the mic, "Oh God, please help me do this" I thought. The words flowed from my mouth like a rainbow. When I was done, I almost couldn't believe that I did it. I didn't even stammer. As I sat down, I chuckled and said to myself, "Wow, thank you God". That was the day God made me chuckle.

 

 

Thank you Ginger... that was beautiful. I love you, Mom





Christmas Years Ago

I was sitting in a doctor's office recently and there was a Christmas tree there. Among its other pretty decorations were silvery foil 'icicles' resting on the branches. You don't see those 'icicles' much any more and it sure brought back memories.
I don't think Christmas tree lots existed when I was a youngster; even if they did... never in a million years would my parents have gone there to buy one. BUY a Christmas tree? Ridiculous! We would go out to the 'back pasture' where the cedar trees were plentiful, pick a good one and bring it home.

I can remember making strings of popcorn & (I think maybe) cranberries for the tree; we must have had some shiny balls to hang on the branches. I was 9 or 10 years old when electricity became a part of our household so likely we began having electric tree lights then. And the icicles... we always had the icicles.
 On the tree I saw recently the icicles seemed to be mostly tossed up & let to fall where they would.  On our tree, they were lovingly hung... each individual little strand of foil put precisely in place. And when the tree came down... each individual little strand of foil was gently draped onto a piece of cardboard... to be used again next year.  We did not waste.
I think of those icicles sometimes when I am about to toss away something perfectly good but no longer useful to me. You can only save so many glass jars...plastic containers...very sturdy cardboard boxes (in various sizes). I do recycle, but probably not enough.
I blame it on our 'throw away' world.  I wish corporations...and people.. would think more like my Mom. Use those plastic bags, aluminum foil, packing peanuts, pickle jars again and again. And most important of all... save those icicles for next year.

Marine Corps Birthday Ball 2012

 This one was held at the Orleans Hotel in Las Vegas and, even
though we live only a few miles from there, we booked a room
so we would not have to worry about foul weather... or... driving
home after dark.
So, with the Mr. looking spiffy in his tux, and me, I was doing all right too...except for the shoes!  I had been pleased to find a shoe
box in the closet marked "gold" and, inside, sure enough a pair of 'gold' shoes looking like they'd never been worn.  They were my size so I surmised they must be mine (and who knows why I never wore them?)  Actually they felt good on my feet for a while... until I started walking... but that was okay.. I managed. Those shoes are now back in the box marked "gold" and will soon appear at our nearest Goodwill Center.
We easily found our assigned Table 75 and, since we were the first ones there, took the two best seats (naturally).  As time went on it became obvious that there would not be any occupants at the ten  empty place settings and we were left to ponder if the table simply didn't 'sell'... or if we missed the sign proclaiming this to be the Leper Table.
At any rate... there is something to be said about being the only two people at a table set for twelve. First off... you avoid that awkward situation where the first guy to grab a roll uses the wrong bread plate.  And then everyone is confused about whether your own bread plate is on your left or your right and by the time you figure it out all the butter is gone.
And another good thing...you avoid altogether that smiling and nodding at the stranger seated next to you who has been talking non-stop since she (or he) sat down and you haven't heard a word because of the music blaring and the racket all around you.

 

We had a delicious meal and a wonderful evening together...it just doesn't get any better.

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY USMC

Eleven Eleven Eleven

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

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

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

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

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

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!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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.