Politicians....Try This!

Election day will be here in 2 weeks and I'm still looking for the perfect candidates to spend my vote on. Oh, I know in the big picture my one little vote doesn't amount to much but, I take it seriously.

It's kind of like going to the candy counter when I was little and having only one quarter to spend. I couldn't decide whether to get the hard candy that lasted for a long time or the Mallow cup which was gone in a short time. I liked them both but almost always went for the chocolate covered marshmallow treat which never lasted long enough and left me wishing I had invested in a candy that lasted longer.

I've only got one vote to cast and I want it to be a wise investment. I don't want my vote wasted on a piece of fluff with a good campaign manager and no substance. I'm looking for some old fashioned hard workers who firmly believe that nothing is beyond repair as long as you're in it it for the long haul. Young, old, career politician, farmer turned politician, whatever, I don't care as long as they are willing to work and are honest about their intentions. That's where things get complicated and I don't have to tell you why.

It's too bad candidates can't state their position and honestly intend on seeing it through, shake hands with their opponent and say "may the best man win". Oh no, that would make it too easy for the average voter. They have to muddy up the playing field with accusations, double talking, and other nonsense until we are all so confused that we consider staying home on election day.

Personally, I think our local boys could teach some of the big city politicians how to conduct themselves during a political campaign. The fellows in the Lauderdale County School Board race have tried a unique approach in their attempt to be elected. Would you believe they have had the audacity to be respectful and pleasant toward each other? In today's politcal arena that kind of behavior is unheard of.


The only problem is that out of the 4 only 2 will be elected and with that in mind I offer a unique solution to the dirty politics in other parts of the state. I say we pack up the 2 candidates who don't win a BOE seat and send them down to Montgomery to teach the good ole' boys how it's done.

Trick or Treat .......or Trick?

I remember a time when a Jack O Lantern was a real pumpkin with a face carved with a kitchen knife and a candle inside to make it glow at night. There were no fake pumpkins with hundreds of faces to choose from and a light bulb with a cord attached to light the dark night, beckoning trick or treaters to stop in and grab a Halloween treat.

Costumes were either a plastic mask with an elastic band that fit around the back of your head to hold it in place or some of your momma's make up and old clothes. We never really cared about the costume we just wanted some candy.

Momma would drive us around the area we lived, stopping only at the homes of people she knew. She would pull in the driveway and we would jump out and yell, "trick or treat, score some candy and occasionally a homemade cookie shaped like a pumpkin. That was the plan and we stuck to it faithfully until the year I strayed from our normal routine by reciting a catchy little rhyme I learned at school.

I can't help but laugh when I think about that Halloween night when momma pulled up to Mrs Opal Springer English's beauty shop which was located right behind her home. We jumped out of the car ran up to Ms Opal's back door... knock, knock, knock. Ms Opal opened the door and before I lost my nerve I belted out," Trick or treat, kiss my feet, give me something good to eat". The look on Ms Opal's face was enough to let me know I had picked the wrong person to try out my new found poetry reciting skills on. She was very clearly not impressed. The only thing left to do was get the candy and run.

And run I did back to momma waiting in the car with the windows rolled down where she had overheard every word of my rousing performance. I could tell from the look on here face and the tightly drawn lips that she was even less impressed with my performance than Ms Opal was. That was our last stop for the evening.

Momma never was much of a disciplinarian but Lord, she was a natural born lecturer. I can recall numerous occassions when I would have preferred a good whipping rather than listen to her go on and on and on and on and well,....... you get the picture.

That particular night, I was treated to an hour long lecture about how embarassed she was by my behavior and was repeatedly asked why I chose to do it at Opal's from the beauty shop because now, everybody was going to know all about it. She would ask why and before I could answer she was back to how embarrassed she was. I don't know where her sense of humour was because I thought it was a riot, despite the lecture and the abrupt end to the trick or treating which knocked a huge dent in the Halloween candy stash.

That was over 40 years ago and I've done my share of trick or treating since that night and never, not once have I told someone that was about to give me candy, "to kiss my feet and give me something good to eat". I learned the hard way that some folks just don't find their humour in the same places I find mine.

I don't worry so much about trick or treating etiquette these days. I just go directly to the source and buy my own candy. Cutting out the middle man leaves out the possibility of embarrassing momma. Well, that and the fact that the last time I tried trick or treating somebody called the police, who refused to believe that the house next door was passing out rolls of toilet paper instead of candy.

I Found the Key......Now What?????

I've just finished reading a book that is so far over my head that I had to constantly google words for definitions just to be able to understand what I was reading. Why? You might ask? I wanted to challenge myself and expand my intellectual capabilities. Okay, so that's a lie.

I'm not going to tell you why I read the book. The important thing is I'm pretty darn proud of myself for muddling through it and finishing with a better understanding of the many different religious customs, rituals and beliefs throughout the world. I was in awe of the devotion that some of the people I was reading about showed their God. During the times when I was at my best it did not compare to their worst. Prayer many times throughout the day, good deeds done at every available opportunity, helping hands extended regularly, worship services not only attended but anticipated, self denial, diet restrictions all in the name of religion were just a few of the things I read about in this book. I was exhausted by their efforts to please their God and disgusted with my lack of effort.

As ashamed as I am to admit it I have done a little backsliding lately which is evident given I began this post with a lie. It's not something I planned or ever thought was possible. There was a time that if Sunday work was unavoidable I would get up and go to work in the wee hours of the morning so I could be finished in time for worship services. Now I am ready for any excuse not to be present.

Isn't it funny how something can make an impact on our life when we least expect it?
Somehow between all the googling for definitions and the struggle to understand the words written in this book I found cause to examine my own beliefs. This book was not one that I would have ever read. In fact, I would not pay attention to it in the bookstore unless it was accidentally shelved in the romance section at Books a Million and I needed to move it in order to reach the latest SEP book (that's Susan Elizabeth Phillips for all of non romance readers). Somehow through an unexpected chain of events the book landed in my hands and I was agreeing to read it. Regardless of how I got it, I'm happy I did. When I say I got it I mean more than just getting the book and reading it I mean I actually got IT!

They key to enlightenment may unlock a door but it is still useless unless you open the door and go in. My key is laying on the table I'm still working on actually using it to open the door.

Grab Your Rake and Sing Along

Being a parent has been a privilege God blessed me with and to this day I don't know if I am worthy of the children he gave me. I'm thankful for my kids, the two that I gave birth to and the two that I got when I married my husband. What an empty life it would be without the four of them and their families.

One of my dearest customers stopped by today for a donation for the leukemia walk taking place soon in Florence. We talked about her son who has been in remission for some time now. With tears in her eyes she spoke about the day her son was diagnosed with leukemia and the treatments he underwent to get to where he is today... cancer free and helping others with the disease. What an inspirational story!

Things are not picture perfect here at the Tate house. There is a fair amount of bickering and a few knock down drag outs. Sometimes we get mad and barely speak. Some of us are jealous and hold grudges for long periods of time and that's just me talking about the grown ups in the family. I won't even start on the children. But one thing is for sure through it all and even when we say we don't.... we do love each other in our own way. All it takes to realize that is a conversation like I had today .

I spent years trying to force our two families to blend into one big happy family. I thought that I could make everyone love each other and me as much as I loved each of them. That was an epic failure (stole that from the teens on fb). It took me some time but now I realize that things like love and acceptance happen in their own sweet time. I can't control that anymore than I can control the weather. If either were under my control we would all be raking leaves right now and singing Kumbayah.

As difficult as it is for me because I'm a fixer...oh alright, I'm a tiny bit controlling, I am leaving things alone and hoping it works out. If it happens then, epic unfailure (thought that one up on my own. It's the opposite of epic failure). I accept that we are never going to be the Brady Bunch but that's okay because I couldn't afford to pay Alice's salary, anyway.

"THE BOX"

I'm about to share something that I've never told anyone. I have this special thing. I call it my box. It has 4 walls that are the same height as me, they have grown with me though the years. It fits directly over me with a ceiling just above my head. The walls are clear like glass but not made of glass. They don't shatter and they don't break. When I'm in my box nothing can penetrate it's walls to harm me.

I discovered the box when I was very young. Something terrible happened that I hated and that I didn't understand, that was when the box first came. It covered my entire body, a perfect fit, as if it was custom made just for me. The box came a lot during that period of my life. Then the terible thing went away and the box didn't come as often. I guess I didn't need for it to be there as much.

When I am in the box pain can't come in or at least it can only come in a little at a time. Only in manageable amounts would be an accurate discription. If you saw me while I was in the box you would never know it. It's not something others can see or feel. It's only concern is me.

I would best describe being in the box as being aware, yet being closed off from whatever is happening. For instance, pretend like someone is throwing rocks at you and you want them to stop but you don't know how to make that happen. The box can't stop the rock throwing but it can stop the pain that the rocks inflict as they hit you body.

The box also helps in other ways. Again, pretend you're having serious problems with a spouse, family members or someone very close to you. Nothing you say or do is right and you have reached the end of the rope. The box comes. It will surround you and close you off to whatever hurtful thing is going on. Honestly I don't know how I would have made it in life if not for the box.

This is where everyone is shaking their head or rolling their eyes, thinking this chick has completely lost her mind. NOT TRUE! It is because of the box that my mind is just fine. I think it is something God blessed me with and I'm also thinking if I have it someone else does, too.

Home

My granddaughter, Caraline, was excited to show off her newly pierced ears the other day. She danced around pointing to the sparkling pink stones in her ears, "Look, Nanny, I got my ears pierced".

I remember my first attempt to have my ears pierced. I didn't have the money to get them done professionally so my Aunt Reeder Faye, volunteered her services free of charge. I was so ecstatic that she was kind enough to offer that I forgot to ask about the "do it yourself at home piercing procedure".

I walked through the front door of my aunt's home expecting to leave the same way but wearing beautiful new earrings. I calmly perched on her kitchen countertop while she held ice cubes on either side of my earlobe to deaden the area so there would be less pain when the actual piercing took place. It was uncomfortable but I perservered dreaming of dazzling ears. Finally, my aunt determined the popsicles that were once my earlobes were ready to be pierced. I waited anticipating the moment when she would hand me the mirror to admire her handiwork.

She reached behind me and drew out a needle that was longer than her little finger and as big around as the Winston cigarettes my momma loved to smoke. "Whoa, wait a minute! WHAT THE HECK IS THAT THING," I screamed, as I ran out the back door and down the hill, across the highway until I reached a place where there were no lunatic aunts yielding giant needles with plans to stab young girls in the ear. Home, sweet home.

I'm not running from anyone these days and home is a different place. One thing remains the same, I still feel safer when I'm home than any where else in the world.

Skip the Worry and Enjoy the Punch

My dad was laid to rest 45 years ago in the cemetery behind the Centerhill Church of Christ. I believe he was the first of many in my family to be buried there. I can still remember parts of his funeral especially the sound of taps being played by a bugler, the firing of rifles and the flags.

Throughout my life I have visited daddy's gravesite many times but one particular time stands out in my mind. I was a young girl probably around than 6 or 7 years old. It was my first visit to the cemetery since learning to read. I was standing by my daddy's grave reading the inscriptions on his tombrock when I discovered my daddy's name was not the only name engraved there. I was stunned to see momma's name right there on the gray marble next to his.

"Momma, what is your name doing there?" I asked her.

"That's where I'll be buried when I die," She answered.

"But momma, you ain't gonna die."

"Well, I reckon I will someday. Everybody's gonna die one of these days," she bluntly replied. No sugar coating for momma, she laid it all on the line.

Waves of shock shot through my body. That was the day I realized that everybody would one day go to meet their maker. It wasn't that I was worried about meeting my maker. I just didn't want my momma going off to meet hers. Who would make Koolaid and buy Apple Jacks for my brothers and me?

That was more years ago than I care to remember and as most of you know, momma is still here. She hasn't made Koolaid in a long time but she makes a mean bowl of punch for our annual Christmas open house. People come by the shop every year on the first Saturday in November to get a glass of her punch.

I wish I could rewind life to that day in the cemetery. I would tell the young girl that I was, not to worry about momma going anywhere anytime soon.
Unfortunately, life doesn't come with a rewind or fast forward button. Worrying about tomorrow is just wasting today and there are better ways to pass the time like sipping on a glass of momma's special punch.

Catching Up on "50 Before 50"

I have been busy thinking of things to add to my list of "50 before 50". I can strike 3 things off with only 47 to go.
1. Seven Days of the "Pledge of Allegiance" - done
2. Become a volunteer - done
3. Kiss a man with a mullet - done

Yay me, way to go.
In the coming months I plan to:
4. Get a manicure - something I've never done.
5. Try sushi for the first time
6. Walk on the beach in winter (already in the works)
7. Make a scrapbook (thanks, Anne)
8. Write a letter to Donnie Osmond
9. Visit the Cowboy Church
10. Enter some type of amateur writing contest

I am creating a fun list full of adventure and new opportunities for myself. Life is full of opportunities, sometimes they happen when you least expect them to without provocation and sometimes like now, as I'm doing with my list you have to make it happen. It remains true, at least for me, the best opportunities of all are the ones that you give to someone else.

Well, Hello September

Happy September! I am glad to see August get behind me. If I could rearrange the seasons we would have 5 months of fall, 1 month of really cold, snowy winter, 5 months of spring and 1 month of summer. I do love and look forward to the fall season.
I especially enjoy when the trees are clothed in the many different colors of fall. I love the mixture of rich orange, red, gold, yellow, olive and even the brown hues that fall brings each year. The amazing part is that the colors are never exactly the same. As much as I admire the decorations used by my friends and neighbors in their front yards here in North Alabama each fall, none compare to God's beautiful fall designs.
When I was a child fall meant it was time for the fair to come to town. Early on we picked cotton to have spending money for the fair. Unfortunately, I wasn't much of a cotton picker so I enjoyed the fair on a shoestring budget. I can still smell the corndogs frying. The taste of an original hot, crispy, batter coated weiner on a stick from the fair was something my children never got to experience. Oh, corndogs are still for sale at the fair but, somewhere along the line corndogs got modernized or something and the taste factor went out the door. During those days cotton candy was only for sale when the fair was in town. There were no plastic tubs of the sweet fluffy treat for sale at local stores. Cotton candy was always on my list of thing to purchase at the fair along with a candy apple.
Other attractions at the fair included livestock which I skipped, we had that at home.I did look forward to a spin on the tilt a whirl and a couple of other rides. I never ventured into the haunted house or anything that might frighten me. I hated being scared. I watched from the sidelines as other brave children boarded the tiny carts for a ride through the dark tunnel. I envied their brave nature but never enough to climb in a cart and take the trip myself.
I saw a billboard announcing George Jones will be performing at the fair in Lawrenceburg, TN this year. I imagine that will draw a few of the old timers out to see the show and enjoy the fair. Even though, it sounds like a great time I think I'll make my own premade frozen corndog, pop the lid off a tub of cotton candy to enjoy while I sit in the front yard and watch the leaves change colors.

"50 BEFORE 50"

My 50th birthday is fast approaching. Don't feel bad for me.........I really don't mind. I have approxamietly 9-1/2 months until the big day and I fully intend to live each day to the fullest. That's where the "50 before 50" thing comes into play. I'm doing 50 things that are either important to me or that I have never done, before my 50th birthday.

Don't worry Deb and Rachael, skydiving is not on the list, never wanted to try it don't expect I ever will. I'm not exactly what you would call a risk taker. Nope,I'm a realist who wears her heart on her sleeve. I might mention that this is not going to be a bucket list kind of thing either, just a list of things that are do-able and personalized for me. Could get a little boring, so bear with me. I might throw in a shocker every now and then to keep you on your toes.

Have you ever heard a person say "I don't want to live to be that old?" Well, you've never heard me say it. I love living! Wanna do it for as long as I can. I just want to make the most of what is left of my 40's.

Okay, let's get this party started. Most of you know I'm a pretty patriotic person, thanks to my dad, which brings me to number 1 on my "50 before 50" list. I realized today that it's been a long time since I said the "Pledge of Allegiance" and really thought about what it means. Pretty pathetic, huh? Beginning tomorow and every morning for the next 7 days I will go outside, face the flag hanging from the front of our house and recite the "Pledge of Allegiance" with sincere consideration of the meaning of the words.

•I pledge allegiance - I promise my loyalty
•to the flag - to the symbol that stands to represent
•of the United States of America - each and every of the 50 states that form the united nation of America
•and to the republic - a country where people choose their representative to form the government and represent them
•for which it stands, one nation - the flag that stands for one country
•under God - there is one Supreme entity for every citizen
•indivisible - a country that cannot be divided
•with Liberty - complete freedom of life and living being given to the citizens
•and Justice - fair treatment being promised by the law of the land
•for all - for each and every citizen of the country.

Boys of Fall

Are you ready for some football???????
Apparently Kenny Chesney is and he's got a great new song to prove it. I admit it. I don't just like it .........I love it. Makes me feel like a teenager again every time I hear it. There was a certain feeling I got from going to the games in high school that I've never been able to recapture. I'm not sure if it was the game itself or the running back on the school team I was dating. I had finally given up on Donnie Osmond and my love life was back on track.

My boyfriend was a running back on the football team and my momma was not willing to provide transportation to the away games. Being the resourceful gal that I am I tried out and made the school drill team which guaranteed me a bus ride to and from all away games. Although the position on the team was in the beginning only a means to an end for me, I really enjoyed it. My drill team routines were getting better everyday and my romance was blossoming.

It was a great fall filled with practices, pep rallies, and football games. I performed with the band during half time shows and my boyfriend hustled for a first down during the game under the bright stadium lights. Life was good and love was in the air. Before long my boyfriend and I were going steady and I was wearing his class ring. I was positive that eventually I would be wearing his last name as well. There was no doubt in my mind that this time it was the real thing.

Football season ended as it always does and not long after so did the relationship with my football player. I survived another broken heart just one of many I was destined to experience. Had I known then what I know now I might have converted and become a nun.

I am still waiting on an offer from some cheesy movie producer to do a movie based on my love life. When the time comes and no doubt it will, I hope viewer's will have a large supply of Kleenex on hand. Until then grab your tissues and enjoy

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AlXDo5WhQXI "The Boys of Fall" courtesy of Kenny.

Forums, Blogs, and Opinions

Why blog? The question was posed recently on a local forum by my husband. He does enjoy a good prank and has been engaging in some foolishness on the Times Daily Forum. Hubby loves to get a rise out of some of the more intelligent posters on tdf (or at least they think they are more intelligent). It is so funny watching them try to rise above!! I read and wonder how long it will be before one of them bites when good ole JR goes fishing on tdf.


There are one or two in particular that my sweetie loves to aggravate. He tries to get under their skin any way he can and often succeeds. He really got a rise out of one of those guys by asking what the purpose of a blog was and included some very unflattering remarks about blogs. Shame on you, Mark. If you don't like it .......don't read it. That includes mine or any other.

This resulted in the offended party retaliating by posting a blog today devoted to Mark's post on the tdf. It was apparent he did extensive research on the definition of a blog. Gotta love wikipedia. His blog was looking good until he proceeded to make fun of my husband's spelling and typing. Then he wondered in his blog about my husband's ability to procreate. Our children are proof that he is. Quite frankly, I would venture to say that our children are likely as successful if not more successful than the children of the author of the abhorrent statement. It is offensive that a grown man feels the need to include distasteful and off color remarks directed toward the children of his cyber enemy in what would be an otherwise decent blog.

Now back to the question posed concerning the purpose of a blog. I'm not going to consult with wikipedia or anyone else for that matter. I blog for three reasons (1) I enjoy it (2) I like the idea of leaving a written account of stories from my life for my children and grandchildren. I would love to have something similar from my dad or grandparents. (3) I often include stories or thoughts about family members who have passed. I don't want them to be forgotten.

As for the bickering and aggravating on the forum. It is a huge waste of time. I have been there and done that. Everybody stays busy trying to one up everyone else. I can sum it all up right here. Let's see.......There is a God. Obama is a terrible president. There is nothing either beautiful or fashionable about Michelle. Glen Beck is a crybaby. Gary Dobbs may or may not have run a red light (I wasn't there so I don't know). The Shoals is a great place to live....bad drivers, senior citizens, and all. Of course, these are just my opinions. I'm sure you have yours.

Going Places

A new bike was big news to a young girl growing up in a small community in Alabama. The bike was a bright purple similar to the color of a grape Popsicle. The plastic grips covering the ends of the handlebars were the perfect size for the hands of a primary school age girl. The pink, purple and silver streamers dangling from the handlebars added just the right amount of feminine flair. The glittery seat comprised of the same colors made the bike a dream come true for me. I was a princess on a royal bike. Trumpets sounded each time I made the circle though the driveway and across the yard back to the starting point at granddaddy's garage. Dadada DAAAA.....here she comes on her shiny new bike.....Princess Sandra.

It mattered not one bit that no one else thought of me in those terms. I was kind of a homely child and sported a short haircut that often called my gender into question. The words princess and Sandra just did not come together very often unless it was me combining the two words. I did not care because I had a shiny new bike. Princess Sandra was going places now and the world she was leaving behind could kiss her.....ahhh. ..better not go there (my auntie Betty is a reader).

A week or so passed and I blissfully rode my bike everyday. I rode it to explore the jungle behind Grandmother and Granddaddy's house careful not to disturb the wild animals who made their home there. I rode my bike in the open pasture careful to avoid the piles of you know what. I pretended the bike was my car and I had an apartment in a big city where I was an overpaid paid fashion model. The bike was my ticket out of Center Hill. I was going places now!

One morning as I was washing my bike my older brother, Timmy, approached me with a proposition. "You like your bike now? Wait til I get through with it." I should have known better but the idea was just too tempting. "What can you do to make it better?" He stuck out his chest and said "I can't tell you I have to show you. Just let me work on it for you" I should have been suspicious because he kept staring at me. I now know it was the big red S for sucker written across my forehead that he was looking at.

Timmy was given a new bike on the same day I got mine. His bike was red with a blue seat. It was a nice bike but no where near the level of coolness that my bike had. I agreed to allow him to make my bike better. He proceeded to take both bikes apart, unscrewing bolts and and placing bicycle parts in a pile near the door in Granddaddy's garage. I began to feel a little nervous when I realized he was "working" on both bikes at the same time. How was he going to know which pieces came from which bike? I voiced my concerns to Timmy. "You're going to have to get out of here and leave me alone if you want me to finish this." My gut feeling told me I was never going to see my bike again.

I hoped that my gut feeling was wrong and it sort of was. I did see pieces of my bike again. Timmy had combined parts of both bikes together. My sparkly glitter seat had been replaced with his blue seat. The basket was missing, apparently it was too much trouble to put back on. The streamers were gone from the handlebars and various parts of my bike were now on his bike and visa versa. Both bikes were covered in grease and so was my brother.

I learned a lesson that day, a lesson that cost me my bike. If it ain't broke, don't let Timmy fix it. If it is broke, don't let Timmy fix it.

Put the pumpkin down

Fall is just around the corner. I know because stores are stocking their shelves with Halloween merchandise. Big orange pumpkins some with big toothless grins and others with slanted eyes and ghoulish grins stare at me from their temporary homes in the department stores. They want me to take them home with me but I'm on to the seasonal retail game.

I have compiled a list for the inexperienced shopper regarding seasonal items you are bound to encounter during a weekly shopping trip.

1.Put that bright orange pumpkin back on the shelf. Your old plastic pumpkin will still do the job. Replace the bulb, set it on your porch and call it vintage.
2. Purchase Halloween candy on Halloween day and not one minute earlier. I don't think I need to explain this one.
3. Never spend over $10.00 on a Halloween costume. A cheap or homemade costume will get your kid just as much candy as an expensive costume will.
4. It takes more than avoiding the seasonal aisles when you shop. Mr WalMart is really smart. He will place pumpkins, bloody hands, cackling witches and other such nonsense in strategic locations throughout his store. It will be difficult to grab a 4 pack of toilet paper without some kind of ghostly encounter. I recommend buying enough toilet paper in August to last until January.
5. Leave your kids at home while shopping. How do you think I got my collection of 110 plastic pumpkins? My boy has outgrown a lot of childish things but he still loves the overpriced Halloween crap.
6. Leave your husband at home while shopping. My hubby has outgrown a lot of childish things but he still loves the overpriced Halloween crap.
7. Candy taste the same in it's everyday packaging as it does in holiday packaging. The only difference is the price.
8. If you don't have trick or treaters you'll be the candy eater. If you haven't had a trick or treater for the past 25 years chances are you won't have one this year. Do you really need five 10lb bags of Halloween themed candy?

Enjoy the last few days of summer............. before you know it we'll be trimming the tree.

Memories, School Clothes & Bears

Gotta love those grand kids! My Caraline can make me happy on the worst of days.

My daughter, Rachael, my granddaughters, Kassidy & Caraline and I were driving home from our annual back to school shopping trip in Huntsville this past Saturday and out of the blue Caraline says, "Mommy, Nanny and Kassidy, thank you all for one of the most specialist days of my life". Too sweet.....right.

Now I'll go in reverse, on the way to Huntsville she has chattering non stop. Her conversation went something like this" I didn't eat breakfast, I just had a sucker and I licked it a few times and I threw it in the garbage. My teacher gave it to me. Can we go to Build A Bear? Can I spend the night with you? Nanny, my Mommy yells at me". Whoa, where did that come from?

Kassidy had the "ear disease" the entire time we were in the car so she did not speak or respond when spoken to ( Ipod inventor, I'll get you someday). I was happy to see she brought along a book to read in the car, something by William Shakespeare or Stephanie Meyer's, I believe. Okay, it was Stephanie Meyers. We were left with Caraline to entertain us for the hour long drive and she did a great job!

I had earlier in the week received my coupon book from the Build a Bear store which I shared with Caraline. She held an open forum for the next hour on build a bears discussing the pros and cons of purchasing a blue peace bear vs the black peace bear. The bunny was really cute, too and the puppies were adorable. School clothes were now a secondary concern as getting to the nearest Build a Bear store became our main objective.

The excitement mounted as we pulled into the Parkway Mall parking lot and headed straight for the store. Caraline only took minutes to decide on the blue peace bear. She picked out a heart for her bear, kissed it and placed it inside the bear, a little cotton stuffing was inserted into the bear and we were good to go, right? WRONG! It is illegal to take a naked bear out into the world. We had to find suitable apparel for the bear and fortunately bear clothing was for sale right in the Build A Bear store. Thank you Build a Bear creator for having the forethought to include a line of clothing for your critters.

Two malls, dept stores, a trunk full of shopping bags, two meals, a milkshake stop and one emergency french fry stop later and we were finally home. Isn't life funny? Special days can come out of nowhere when we least expect them to. I guess life is better when you let it happen without expectations. Caraline wasn't expecting a new bear on a back to school shopping trip and look what happened.

No trench coats....the kid's will freeze

Unless you are the parent of a school age child you will most likely find today's blog a boring one. Don't knock me off my soapbox just yet.........I enjoy it too much.

As many of you know today was the first day of a new school year so I am spending much of my evening signing off on all the papers that my 16 year old son has so responsibly brought home. I extend a BIG HATS OFF to you parents with 2 or more children in school. It takes some effort to sign this many papers and a devoted parent to read everything they sign.

PLEASE, please read this stuff before you sign it, make copies of the papers you sign and return and most importantly keep your student handbook. File them away in your filing cabinet or do what I am doing put them in a Wal Mart bag and throw them in the bottom of your underwear drawer. It's really not important where you keep them just keep them. After hearing a teacher or principal say to me on more than one occasion "it's in the handbook or it was in the paper I sent home for you to sign at the beginning of the school year," I now read, sign, copy and save.

There are a lot of interesting things in the county school handbook and particularly in the 4 page Brooks High School handbook distributed to the students today. Page one of the BHS student handbook regarding student absences states that excuses must be turned in within 3 days after the absence and before 7:50.... will the excuse be refused if a student attempts to submit it at any other time of the day? Students are only allowed 3 parental excuses per trimester. What about children with chronic illnesses that might render them incapable of attending school on more than 3 occasions but do not require a visit to the doctor's office each time? Oh, and parents make sure you put your child's full name, date of and reason for absence and also include a contact number on that excuse. If you send a note for your child to check out of school it must be in the office by, you guessed it, 7:50 with the reason for checking out clearly stated. Only 3 parental excuse notes will be allowed for checking in or out per trimester.


The dress code section declares that baggy pants and pants that are too tight are not acceptable. Should we hire tailors to design custom made pants for our children so they will not violate the BHS dress code? Is a perfect fit required or will the administrators be happy if their little cracks aren't showing and they can bend at the knees without busting a seam? I guess I'll be one of the first to know considering the fact that my son's pants have never been a perfect fit.


No hair in the eyes, no non-traditional hair colors , trench coats, decorative contact lenses, visible piercings except ears also made the list of no-no's at BHS. Most of these don't concern my child since he has no piercings, does not color his hair, and wears glasses (so decorative lens are out). The hair in the eyes might be a problem but if worse comes to worse I can whip out my kitchen shears and give him an emergency trim.

I am on the fence about some of this stuff. I really hate body piercings. Every time I see a pierced tongue or lip it literally makes me hurt. Do they distract me to the point that I can not function in whatever capacity I need to? Never. Strange hair colors don't bother me at all. In fact, I think pink hair looks good on some girls.... just not mine. I secretly admire people who don't conform and I hate to see that taken away from the kids who want to harmlessly express themselves.

I think it is important to have rules and regulations. I fully intend to have my child comply with the rules whether or not I agree with them. At least I won't have to say no if he has an urge to dye his hair green and pierce his tongue. I can rely on BHS to take care of that for me.

A frend sent this to me in an email today and I thought it was worth sharing with my friends.

"One Sunday morning, an old cowboy entered a church just before services were to begin. Although the old man and his clothes were spotlessly clean, he wore jeans, a denim shirt and boots that were worn and ragged. In his hand he carried a worn-out old hat and an equally worn, dog-eared Bible.
The church he entered was in a very upscale and exclusive part of the city. It was the largest and most beautiful church the old cowboy had ever seen. The people of the congregation were all dressed with expensive clothes and fine jewelry. As the cowboy took a seat, the others moved away from him.No one greeted, spoke to, or welcomed him. They were all appalled by his appearance and did not attempt to hide it.
As the old cowboy was leaving the church, the preacher approached him and asked the cowboy to do him a favor. "Before you come back in here again, have a talk with God and ask him what he thinks would be appropriate attirefor worship in our church." The old cowboy assured the preacher he would.
The next Sunday, he showed back up for the services wearing the same ragged jeans, shirt, boots, and hat. Once again he was completely shunned and ignored. The preacher approached the cowboy and said, "I thought I asked you to speak to God before you came back to our church."
"I did," replied the old cowboy.
"And what was his reply?" asked the preacher.
"Well, sir, God told me that he didn't have a clue what I should wear. He said he'd never been in this church"

Parents.....can I get an Amen?

Getting ready to send my youngest son back to school next week has had me reminiscing about my own school days. I find myself comparing the way things were then to the way things are now. Boy, have things changed, from lunch menus to the teachers. Some things are better others not so much.

I can't believe my son has only two years left before graduating from high school. I regret that I have not been more vigilante during his high school years. He was fortunate to have been a student at Brooks Elementary during a time where there were some fabulous teachers along with a first rate office staff. Mrs Walker is an absolute genius when it comes to doing her job. All that was left for me to do was make sure he was prepared for class and there on time. There was no reason to ask questions about faculty members behavior or be at the school constantly because there was a problem. The teachers were there to teach and they did it well without interference from me. Thank you Brooks Elementary! My son was ready for high school and I expected the same professional atmosphere we experienced at BES. WRONG!! WRONG!! WRONG!!


There were issues in junior high that I chose to ignore rather than cause problems. I was still advising my son that he was to follow rules set by a teacher in the classroom. I wanted him to understand and follow the chain of command to prepare him for life as an adult life when he enters the job force. He complained about silly things like being counted tardy because he was on his way to the trash can to throw away a snot filled tissue when the bell rang. I stood behind the teacher and told him to in his seat when the bell rang. In other words, the teacher is always right. I even ignored it when a teacher confided in me with an air of disapproval that a student in her class was an atheist. I should have asked what his lack of religious belief had to do with school? I ignored when politic views where discussed in the classroom inappropriately during an election.

Man, have I changed my way of thinking. I'm sorry to say it but teachers are human just like the rest of us and they are not always right.......God love 'em. They make mistakes for whatever reason perhaps, they are misinformed..... in that case they should listen more. Could be they just don't care...........then they should leave the profession to those who do. Whatever the reason I am keeping my eyes and ears open for the remaining two years.

I watched an interview with Colts Coach Dungy yesterday and was inspired by many things he said. He quoted his father who was a teacher,who said that it was his job to help ALL his students get A's. Those were the words of a true educator. I wonder how many teachers are returning to the classroom with that attitude?

I realize it must appear as though I kind of have it in for teachers. I am not anti-teacher I am pro-equal opportunity classrooms. I have the utmost respect and admiration for those who teach our children. I am of the opinion that somewhere along the way a few of our teachers have allowed their personal feelings to interfere with their job performance. Especially, if they have children in the school where they employed or even worse, in their own classroom.

As a mother, I cannot imagine how difficult it would be to have a child in the same school I worked (if I were a teacher ) and not want to give into the natural parental urge to give my child a little motherly attention. I would hope that I would have enough self control to resist doing little favors for my child or their friends. I would hope my judgement would remain clear and I could distinguish right from wrong and make the best decision for ALL students and not just the ones that call me mom. And God forbid I would willingly or unknowingly harm another student while trying to make things easier for my own little darling.

Please don't assume I include all faculty members who have children enrolled at their place of employment. I certainly do not. The point I am making is that one teacher behaving this way is one too many. I would challenge administrators, superintendents, and school board members to address this issue.

I do not expect that my child or any other child be coddled during their high school years. I expect faculty and administrators to perform their job objectively showing no amount of favoritism or aversion to any student regardless of their family connections, athletic ability, choice of apparel, personality, social standing, hair style, religious affiliation, lack of religious affiliation or political views.

Okay, now that I have finished my sermon.................Can I get an AMEN???

Mr Mailman...you are forgiven

As a child I had a pretty wild imagination. I spent a lot of time daydreaming and fantasizing about people, places and things that were far beyond my reach.

Around the age of nine give or take a couple of years I was convinced that I was destined to one day become Mrs Donnie Osmond. In order to do that certain things needed to happen. I had to meet my future husband.
The "Win a Date with Donnie Osmond" contest advertised in Tiger Beat magazine provided just the opportunity I needed to make the connection with my soon to be groom. I quickly filled in the blanks on the entry form and mailed it to the contest headquarters.

While waiting to hear from Donnie much thought was given about what to wear and whether or not to curl my hair with pink sponge rollers. These were life changing decisions.....sponge rollers gave me a terrible head ache and nothing made me crankier than a head ache except an empty stomach. I vowed to take a dose of Bayer and eat a large meal prior to Donnie's arrival. Some character flaws are best kept hidden until after the nuptials.

I clearly remember discussing this with my Aunt Betty who carefully listened and pretended to give consideration to my plight. I also turned to Betty when momma thought it was downright hilarious that I requested a new dress for the date. I was quite pleased that Betty agreed to buy a dress when I won the contest.

Donnie did not call and there was no date but it was not because he did not want to. Again, it was Betty who came to the rescue with a reasonable explanation. There was a very logical reason for Donnie's puzzling behavior. My entry had been lost in the mail and there was only one person to blame......the mailman. That no good, bill delivering jerk was the one person responsible for my broken heart.

I've often overheard my peers expressing the things they dislike most about getting older. The most common complaints include hair loss, gray hair, weight gain, bad vision, loss of hearing and the list goes on and on. I would put loss of imagination and the ability to dream without doubting the outcome at the top of the list. There's nothing quite like the childish suspense of knowing deep in your heart that something wonderful is going to happen at any moment.
On the upside of being a realistic adult I am happy to announce that I have forgiven mailman.

Wipe out teen boredom

Being a teenager in the Shoals is really tough these days. There is absolutely nothing for these young people to do. I blame the parents, myself included. After all, aren't we responsible for the entertainment portion of our teen 's life? We should all be held accountable for the herd of discontented teenagers wandering aimlessly along our city streets. Perhaps a few well placed mug shots of parents in the local edition of Hard Times arrested for refusing to provide their teen with the proper amount of recreational gratification would result in less boredom for our youth. Yes, laws should be written to facilitate punishment for parents who refuse to comply.

What can be done to eliminate a problem of such epic proportion? We as parents must endeavor to fill our teens days with adventure and excitement. Not to worry, I have already given much thought as to how that may be accomplished and have compiled a list to help guide parents through this process.

1.Encourage your teen and even your younger children to explore by beginning at home. Almost every home has a special room that most teens avoid. Often the location of this room will be obscure and may go unnoticed by your child for years. Ask your child to try and locate the room. They will be excited to learn the room contains special machines designed to transform dirty clothes into clean clothes. Allow them to operate the machines and watch their glowing faces as they master laundry 101.

2. Take your teen to work with you if possible. Explain the concept of swapping skills for a paycheck. After work have you teen accompany you to the bank where they will observe you exchanging the aforementioned paycheck for some cold hard cash. You have their attention now! Use it to your advantage! Explain to your child how he/she can do the same thing. Before you know it your teen will be spending many blissful hours flipping burgers or babysitting the neighbor's children.

3. Show your teen where those delicious meals they enjoy actually come from. Start with a trip to your local market where they will learn to purchase food. Take their little hands and place them on a shopping cart, guide them through the market all the while explaining the art of feeding a family of 5 on a tight budget. Resist the urge to reward them with frivolous items such as cookies, candy or ice cream that you will later eat yourself. Afterwards teach your child the steps to preparing a fabulous dinner. By the time you finish, they should be able to operate a can opener, turn on the stove and oven, set the table, distinguish the differences between the refrigerator and freezer. Don't be disappointed if it takes a while for your teen to master step 3 and don't be surprised if they resist your attempt to keep them entertained in this manner. Think about how embarrassing it will be if your mug shot makes it to the big time.

4. Fathers may fulfill their obligation by offering your teen the opportunity to fill those dull summer afternoons with a few outdoor activities. Several opportunities for fun in the sun exist right in your own back yard. There's mowing, weed eating, weed pulling, garages to be cleaned, pressure washing, and for the very lucky teen gardens to be tended. The possibilities are endless. Aren't dad's great?

5. Your child will be fascinated to know there is a place where they can go that will allow them to borrow a book for free. Take them to the library but a word of caution....watch them closely so they do not embarrass you or themselves by asking where the double vanilla frozen tutti fruity frappaccino's are served.

Along with the suggestions listed above I recommend exercising, volunteer work, spending time with the elderly. Add to these your own suggestions and I am certain that together we will one day contain the boredom virus that contaminates the youth of our community. With these suggestions I extend the offer to other parents to join the Shoals chapter of WOTB (Wipe Out Teen Boredom) dedicated to offering amusement to thousands of teens across the Shoals.

Back to School

Oooh, goody!! Almost time to send the kids back to school. I know all the kids in our family are delighted at the prospect of a new school year (slightly exaggerated). My husband and I have one straggler left at home, our 16 year old son, who will be a junior this year and 5 grandchildren in various stages of their school going career.

A lot of preparation goes into getting kids ready for school these days. When I was a child we got new underwear, a couple of outfits, some socks, shoes, notebook, pencils or pens for the older kids. Toss in the ceremonial night before school starts back bath which yielded raw skin and bald spots and you were good to go another year. I never understood why we were required to be extra clean for the first day of the new school year or the need for new underwear. I don't remember ever showing off my new drawers to anyone. No sir, didn't happen.

Kids today require a great deal more preparation before jumping on the big yellow bus to begin a new and exciting school year (another slight exaggeration). Don't even get me started on the back to school wardrobe for kids these days. Aeropostle, American Eagle, Gap, Old Navy...............what the heck happened to good old K Mart?

Along with clothing comes the additional cost of school supplies. A second mortgage is often needed to finance getting ready for back to school especially for families with 2 or more children. Parents need to buy hand sanitizer, Kleenex, Lysol spray, liquid soap, paper towels, a certain kind of folder, specific type of paper, pencils, blue pens and or black pens, binders, and the list goes on.

I do what I must to ready my son for the big day as I am sure other parents do. I begin ordering him to bed earlier two weeks prior to the first day of school in anticipation of his soon to be changing schedule. I order ............he ignores. The important thing is I try to do the right thing.
I give lectures about the upcoming year, fresh starts, new opportunities, so on and so forth. I'm really pumped. I'm proud he is patiently listening. A sponge soaking up all the words of wisdom I am offering until I glance over at him and see the wires dangling from his ears attached to his ipod. I would gladly kick the rump of the ipod inventor but I'll save that for another blog. I try to schedule appointments before the school year begins, doctor, dentist, hair cuts checking each one off my to do list as I complete a task. I'm a woman on a mission step outta my way or you might get hurt. Finally all systems go with the exception of the ceremonial night before school starts back bath. The boy is just gonna have to manage that one on his own.

From a can, homemade, frozen.....

Name your biscuit. ....honestly I'll eat any of them and like it.

Pillsbury ain't got nothing on my family. My Maw Maw Cox was freezing biscuits long before Pillsbury came up with that beautiful blue bag filled with your choice of either flaky, southern or buttermilk biscuits found in the freezer section. Personally I would have gone for the flaky, southern, buttermilk biscuit and marketed it as three biscuits in one. But who am I to tell Mrs Pillsbury how to sell her biscuits? Maw maw just froze her biscuits on aluminium pie pans so paw paw could make his own breakfast. I always ate toast when I visited their house.

I liked my Grandmother Holden's biscuits the best. I always knew it was almost time to eat when I heard her whack a can of biscuits on the counter to open it. Opening a can of biscuits takes a certain amount of finesse. A swift hard whack of the can along the edge of your kitchen counter will usually do the trick but you can always use a knife to pry open a can. Grandmother baked her biscuits on the lid saved from a five gallon can of lard. My favorite way to eat a canned biscuit was for breakfast when they were covered in chocolate gravy. Throw in a couple of spoonfuls of butter and my day was off to a good start.

My momma almost always gets her biscuits from a can like her mother but when she does dip into the White Lily bag you won't find a better biscuit. I like momma's homemade biscuits with gravy or some white Karo Syrup poured over them .

Me, I don't discriminate when it comes to biscuits. It depends on which of the three biscuit choices suits my current mood. If I'm feeling all domestic you will find me in the kitchen mixing bowl and spoon in hand working to produce a homemade biscuit that is worthy of my wonderful family. I visualize my family rising from their seats to applaud as I place my platter of hot fluffy biscuits on the table. I smile as they place a diamond studded biscuit shaped tiara upon my flour covered head and pronounce me biscuit queen.

For those times when I'm in a hurry but still feel the need to impress I rely on Mrs Pillsbury and the blue bag. No standing ovation but no complaints either. Frozen biscuits are best served with a bowl of chicken and dumplings and a slice of garden fresh tomato. I've head many of a "nanny this is so good" after serving this trio to my grandchildren.

When I'm in a hurry and financially challenged I reach for the can. Mine never turn out like grandmother's but they are quite edible and if you use enough butter anything taste good. I can't help but wonder if the secret to grandmother's canned biscuits was the lard can lid baking pan she used or the whole lotta love she served along with them. If I was a gambler I'd be betting on the latter.

Cycle of Life..........Wash, Spin and Rinse

Deepak Chopra says,“There are no extra pieces in the universe. Everyone is here because he or she has a place to fill, and every piece must fit itself into the big jigsaw puzzle.”

I have wandered aimlessly for 40 sumthin, sumthin years not knowing exactly where I fit in the giant jigsaw puzzle of life. Was I a corner piece? Did I proudly line the edge keeping other puzzle pieces from losing their place in life's big puzzle? Or was I one of those less important pieces that tends to get lost in the landscape surrounding the focal point of the puzzle? I think for a while I was one of those difficult pieces worn around the edges from being forced into the wrong position in the universal puzzle where I did not belong.

Today I came to a stark realization as I loaded the washing machine for the third time before heading out the door to go to work. A revelation...an inner peace..........years of soul searching and it all comes down to something so simple, so minuscule yet so necessary. My purpose in life is laundry, loads and loads of glorious laundry. "That's what it's been about all along," I told myself as I proudly marched though the house with laundry basket perched upon my bony hip gathering soiled clothing, wet towels, bed sheets, anything in need of wash, rinse and dry.

I am blessed in that my life's purpose shall never end. As long as there is life there will be laundry. I vowed to meet each and every load with a bottle of Gain (unless Tide is on sale) and a box of Bounce( or store brand) fabric softener. I will wash, dry and fold every article of clothing that might find it's way into my laundry basket. I will fill drawers, linen closets and cabinets with clean clothes, sheets, and towels.

I won't iron, though. I have to draw the line somewhere with this whole purpose and puzzle thing.

To Love a Vampire.....or Not

The vampires have invaded the romance section of the bookstore. What is up with that? This just doesn't work for me. I am totally confounded at the notion of how any woman in her right mind is gonna go gaga over a vampire. What woman wants to kiss a guy with blood breath? I don't care if he does look like Edward.........I'll pass. Thank you very much.

I've been an avid reader since I discovered the magic of Dick and Jane. When I read the words "See Spot Run" I envisioned Spot galloping full speed ahead across a well manicured perfect shade of green lawn to greet the perfect family. Oh, how happy they were and not a one of them a vampire!

I soon outgrew Dick, Jane, mother and father moving on to the more sophisticated antics of Ramona Quimby. That Ramona could get herself into some situations but I don't recall ever reading about her having a crush on the cute vampire next door. I just cannot imagine strolling into the school library to check out a copy of Ramona Bites Back.

I loved going to the book mobile at the little country store a mile or so from our home during the summer months. I could score a Grace Livingston Hill book, a Mallow Cup, and a Pepsi all at one location. That Grace sure knew how to make you fall in love with her hero. I can't imagine any of Grace's heroine's falling madly in love with a long toothed blood sucker hundreds of years her senior.

I soon graduated to a more mature level of romance books. I was reading Patricia Matthews, Rosemary Rogers, and Kathleen Woodwiss long before I should have. These ladies all had one thing in common.......a great love story that would keep me reading non stop from beginning to end. I fell in and out of love with handsome men, average men and the occasional ugly man. I struggled with tragic losses, celebrated great wealth, and was devastatingly beautiful all courtesy of these and other great writers. Guess what??? Yep........still no vampires

It's not that I haven't tried to love a vampire. I do not discriminate when it comes to love. If it involves some good old fashioned, heart wrenching, playing hard to get romance........I am there for the story. I just can't go there if it involves vampires.

Death

My experiences with death came early in life. First with the death of my father and a few years later when my much loved Grandmother Holden passed away . Memories of my dad are vague to say the least since I was only 4 when he died. My grandmother is a different story. I could write a book about her.

I remember getting a whipping from my dad for wetting the bed. Don't be outraged on my behalf because this happened back in the days when it was not only acceptable to whip your children but expected. I am certain that at that time my dad did not realize that I could not help waking up in a wet bed. If you have never been a bed wetter then you have no idea how unsettling it is to wake up in a cold wet bed. YUCK! I would have alerted my dad to that fact had he been in the mood to listen to a 4 year old bed wetter in the middle of the night. Please don't feel sorry for me because I was the recipient of an undeserved spanking. I had years of misbehaving without receiving any punishment ahead of me. My dad had only a short time left. I like to think this was fates way of giving my dad a one up on me for all the whippings I would later deserve that he wouldn't be around to administer.

As I said earlier I could write a book about my Grandmother Holden. I recall wonderful gatherings at Grandmother and Grandaddy Holden's home with cousins, aunts and uncles. At one of these gatherings I remember grandmother proudly placing a very unappealing casserole on the table which consisted of some kind of canned tuna concoction with canned biscuits floating on top. I will never forget the look on Granddaddy's face when he asked her "What the devil is that thing?". That casserole is the only bad thing that I remember coming out of my Grandmother Holden's kitchen. To this day I cannot understand why anyone would want to eat hot tuna covered in biscuits but I would gladly consume a large helping on a daily basis if it was prepared by her.

I was married shortly before my 17th birthday and became a mother soon after. Death came calling again and this time it was my young husband, Ricky who answered. Ricky was 21 when he was killed in a car accident and our daughter was a year old. There are no words to describe the devastation I felt in those days following his death. My childish notions of happily ever after were gone. I could not imagine that I would ever be happy again. I behaved so foolishly in the months after he died and it was around that time that I developed feelings of entitlement that stayed with me for years. I felt like the world owed me something for all that had been taken from me and I was ready to collect. How utterly absurd that sounds now. Had I not been quite so focused on myself I might have realized that a lot of people had it much worse than I did.

There have been many other family members that have joined Daddy, Grandmother Holden, and Ricky. Each one of them left a part of them self here for the rest of us to enjoy and cherish. Whether it be a funny memory, a heart warming story or something as trivial as a special recipe I know they are with us and that is a comfort to me.


Last week my daughter had her first experience with the death of someone that she has loved her entire life. Her Granny Burks (Ricky's mother) passed away. I hurt for her but I recognize that she has to come to terms with losing Granny on her own and I have no doubt that she will. Time will pass and that overwhelming sadness will be replaced with fond memories like a bad tuna casserole.

Meanwhile, Granny Burks if you're reading this from Heaven......thanks for all the good times. You were one heck of a woman!!!

The Big CCO

Do you ever wonder if people are really laughing out loud every time they LOL online? I realize that it is possible to become so tickled at something online that you burst out in a fit of laughter. I've done it myself on occasion like the time some out of the loop poster on the Times Daily forum posted about seeing me clad in my confederate bikini. A ridiculous claim to say the least since everybody who's anybody in forum land is aware my confederate swimwear consist of a one piece with a matching ankle length cover up that only comes off in the privacy of my bathroom with the door securely locked from the inside.

I did LOL tonight when my goofy husband was being ridiculous while posting on the BOS forum. I heard giggling coming from the computer room (which is really a junk room but computer room sounds better).I knew right away that he was up to no good. Anyway, I was curious to see what he was up to so I logged on to the forum and minutes later was LOL-ing for dear life. I came very close to ROFL-ing but not ROFLOL-ing which is the ultimate from what I've been told. I am embarrassed to admit it but here goes........ I have never experienced the big CCO (cyber comedic orgasm).

Of course, this could in part be blamed on the fact that I DO NOT go around LOL-ing at everything I read. No sir, not me. I save my LOL's for something really special. I know that when the time is right I will be ROFLOL but for now I'm content with an occasional LOL . It's hard to miss what you have never had. If it does turn out that I'm one of those people who just cannot achieve the big CCO then I am sure there are doctors for that sort of thing......right?

Kassidy

I was excited to share my blog with two of my granddaughters. Caraline, the younger of the two, was more concerned with how many Bratz dolls she would buy on our shopping expedition in Huntsville today. Kassidy was curious about blogging and more importantly my blog.

" What do you write?" about she asked.
"Anything I want to," I replied, feeling like an expert after making a grand total of 2 post.
"Will you write about me?" she asked.

This is my humble attempt to write about my sweet, sweet Kassidy Nicole. I wish I could say that I look at her and see a younger version of myself but that would just be an outright lie. The truth is she is our very own Mini Martha ( her paternal grandmother is the original Martha). Gran Martha is a beauty and at 50 something could very easily pass for 30 something which leads me to quote another Martha (Stewart) by saying, "This is a good thing."

You have to look a little deeper to see me in Kassidy. I see it in her art and her poems. She has a creative genius that far surpasses any abilities that I have but I like to think she got some of it from me. I am eager to see the success that awaits her as she grows into adulthood. I am certain she will be a famous author or artist, perhaps both. Wherever life takes her she will take a part of me and a part of Gran with her. The best of the both of us.

The art in my blog today is from Kassidy's portofolio.

One last addition for my Kassidy blog. She did ask that I make mention of the fact that she had her braces removed yesterday and Gran Martha had hers put on today. They are both beautiful with or without braces.

Kitchen Retreat

Today is the 5th day of my staycation and I have spent most of the day in the kitchen. I whipped up a delicious squash casserole, broccoli cornbread with a surprise inside (smoked sausage). I wish I could take credit for thinking of adding the smoked sausage but that goes to Linda the wife of a forum admin where I freqently post.
I borrowed another culinary trick from Ramm and Linda for my chicken stew. Who would have thought that adding a package of Ramen noodles would produce such amazing results? Just throw those crunchy noodles in on top of your chicken along with the seasoning packet and your family will think you are a genius in the kitchen. Don't tell them you read it here just pretend you were in the pantry gazing at your stockpile of Ramen and had a lightening bolt moment.

Anybody that knows me is thinking ...........hmm, what's for dessert? It is a well known fact that every meal in my kitchen ends with some kind of dessert even if it's only a Little Debbie. I did a little better than those delightful treats in a cellophane package today. I tried a new recipe for a coconut sheet cake. So easy my youngest granddaughter could make it and so good that my youngest granddaughter would eat it. She has a reputation for being a bit of a food critic.

Grab yourself a box of yellow cake mix, throw in 4 eggs and a can of coconut pie filling. Pour into a greased and floured sheet cake pan and bake for about 25 minutes at 350 degrees. Top it off with a can of cream cheese frosting. Feed it to your family food critic and prepare yourself for praise. Hold onto your hat so that your swollen head doesn't eject it onto the floor.

When I return to work and everyone ask where I spent my vacation I have the perfect response..........I spent some time at a quaint little kitchen retreat waaay north of the beach and waaay south of the mountains. It's the IN place to spend your vacation.

I've been thinking about blogging for a couple of weeks now. I think of all the things I won't to say and it sounds impressive in my head but actually putting thoughts into words is a lot harder than I expected.



A few days ago a woman came into my shop. As we were talking she said mentioned that the minute she heard my voice she knew I was my fathers child. Through out the day and often since that day I thought about what she said and how good it made me feel to know that someone thought I was like my father. Even more important than that was the fact that someone remembered him well enough that they could hear his voice in mine. I wish I could remember the sound of his voice.

I imagine he would would caution me in a stern assertive voice when I was a child against things that might cause harm to his only daughter. Given the chance I am certain he would have done a lot of raising his voice when I became a teenager. I was a bit of a know it all and a tad bit on the wild side. I think he would have been there to comfort me with gentle assurance when I buried my first husband who was killed in a car accident at a very young age leaving me and our 1 year old daughter alone. I imagine there are a lot of things my dad would have said not only to me but to my brothers if he had not died all those years ago in Vietnam.