|Have a spooky and safe day!
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
|"Lord, it's colder than a witch's titty, ain't it?" I heard somebody behind me say.
Oh no, I knew that voice anywhere, it was my elderly neighbor, Merlethem Shatz. I've mentioned before that I usually try to avoid her because it's really hard to get away from her once she gets her claws into you. Today, was really not the day to be caught up in conversation because the weatherman said that we might get some frozen precipitation. In the south, that can only mean one thing: It's off to the store for bread and milk.
I turned around to face Ms. Merlethem before I could stop myself. It's nothing personal but I didn't have time or didn't want to hear about her neck pimples or any other ailments she might have; but, it was too late. She'd seen my eyes, so off she went.
"Back in the winter of '52, when I was a lass back in New Staffordshire, we didn't have all of the luxuries that you spoiled Yanks take for granted. We certainly didn't run off to the market whenever there was a hint that old Jack Frost might be dropping in for a visit."
"Really, what'd you do?" I asked.
"Well! For starters, we made our own bread and had a cow for our milk. None of this fancy bread like Whole Wheat, Potato Bread, or Honey Butter Bread that everyone is so fond of today. We used to call it hardtack or something; you could bounce it off the dirt floor and it would bounce right back to you. That's right, my house had a dirt floor, what do you think of that?"
During Ms. Merlethem's rambling story I had picked up my gallon of milk and had worked my way over to the bread aisle with her following me the whole way. "You wanna know what I think of that? I think you talk too much and I've just got the last loaf of bread. Now, whatcha think about that?"
Friday, October 16, 2009
|Excuse me while I sit here hitting myself with my rolling pin, but I'm still shaking my head about something that happened the other day. I had whisked Mom away from her square dancing and poker tournaments for an exciting day trip into the northeastern corner of Georgia to go leaf looking.
Of course, there were no leaves to be found or seen because we are experiencing our third consecutive year of rain, drizzle and fog. Which means you can barely see your hand in front of your face, let alone, a beautiful mountaintop bursting with splendid oranges, yellows, and reds.
We soon grew tired of squinting through the fog and listening to my wipers SCREECH across the windshield and decided it was time to stop for lunch. I had done some research on restaurants in the area and had settled on a seafood place called Rumor Hazeit.
We ordered lunch and began to look around the dining area and took notice of the other customers. One table was obviously local business people enjoying a leisurely lunch, another table possibly a young couple in love because they were suck facing constantly. (Get a room!) Other tables were filled with other tourists out enjoying the fog and rain, and the last table, well, it was filled with senior citizens.
I counted at least ten gray, purple, and silver haired beauties sitting together. I'm not sure if they were local or not; just out for the day. Could have been a church group, who knows. But they were the quietest bunch of ladies I'd ever seen. Almost made me nervous.
We had finished eating and were letting our food settle while watching the server that had been handling the seniors try to settle up their bills. I could sense she was getting a little frustrated because they couldn't remember who ordered what and didn't agree with the amounts on the bill.
One of the ladies began talking privately to her and for some reason the waitress announced that it was her birthday. Dead silence ensued and what happened next is what had me asking, "But, I thought..."
Everyone of those ladies stood up and began singing Happy Birthday...to...the... waitress.
Mom and I looked at each other with the same WTH face. I thought the waitress was supposed to sing to the customer. Whatever! We didn't want to be party poopers so we joined in and before the song ended the whole restaurant had stood up and sang Happy Birthday.
The waitress smiled and thanked everybody and said we had really made her day. I'm sure that's one birthday that will never be forgotten.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
|I was gone for most of the day and was surprised to find three messages on my phone when I got home the other day. I knew it wasn't a family member because I had been with my family all day. As I pushed the play button on my answering machine I wondered vaguely if it wasn't Doug calling for Helen again.
"Hi, this is Audry from Mountain Physical Therapy and I was calling to set Ms. Higginbottom up for for PT visits. Here's what you need to do. Call this number and talk to Florence who will then call and talk to Mr. Taylor over in the accounting department who will then okay the payment plan and then contact Tonya at the Satellite office to set up the visits three weeks from that point because Heidi is still out on maternity leave. You'll be her first patient back from leave which will be good because she will want to do a lot of extra work to help her lose some of that baby fat. She said she gained like 50 pounds while she was pregnant and has at least 40 pounds to lose. I'm not sure if that means that she had a 10 pound baby. Oh, man! That's big! Okay, well, if you have any questions just give us a call." Click!
That was call number one.
Here's call number two:
"Hell0, this is Audry calling from Mountain Physical Therapy and I just wanted to tell you that I realized that I called the wrong number and disregard everything that I just said. Tonya would be really mad at me if she knew I was telling everyone her business. She doesn't work her patients out that hard but she really does need to lose that baby weight. Okay, well forget everything I just said now and on the previous call. Bye!"
And last but certainly not least, call number three:
"Hi Helen, it's me Doug from Automotive Excellence again..."
Friday, October 9, 2009
|Growing up the youngest on Cherry Fork Road presented a few problems from time to time. Namely, getting left behind. Brother is older than me by five years and Sister has three years on me. It seemed like they were always going to one function or another and I was to young to go.
Brother took me and some of my friends to the movies a few times but that was nothing compared to what my sister had to put up with. Sister and her best friend liked to go cruising in town. Trust me, there was nothing else to do, but cruise up and down the road. The route consisted of going through town and turning around at Solomon's doctor's office, going back through town and driving around Sam's tastee freeze and then go up and cruise around the car wash and head back through town.
This was done repeatedly until everyone went home or about 10:00 PM. Whenever Big Red would ask to go with Cindy she was usually allowed to go as long as she took her sister with her. I'm sure it drove her crazy.
I'm not sure how Cindy felt about it but we always seemed to have a good time. It was especially fun when we went to the rival town and trying scoping out their guys. I think my sister and her best friend had the hots for a couple of them fellas that played for the rival Indians.
I always sat in the back seat and was basically ignored by all the boys that we came into contact with. Until one night one fellow stuck his head in the window and wanted to know who was in the back seat. I can't remember his name but I was tickled to death that a boy had finally noticed me. "That's my kid sister," my sister said.
"Well, she's cute," the boy said. Lord, you would've thought Shawn Cassidy had just said hello. I was over the moon for at least six months.
I had fun cruising with my sister and her best friend and today is her birthday. Happy Birthday Cindy! Thanks for letting me tag along.
Wednesday, October 7, 2009
|I try to do my part to help folks out when I can. I'll never belong up there in the echelon of philanthropists like Bill Gates or Oprah but I feel that even the smallest act of kindness these days can go a long way.
Here's something easy and relatively inexpensive that you can do the next time you go through a drive thru window at your favorite fast food joint. When you get to the cash window tell the worker that you want to pay for the order behind you if there is one. I usually try and check out the folks behind me because I can't afford to pay for a baseball team's victory dinner at McDonald's.
If it's one or two people it's probably going to be less than ten bucks and that's something I can do every once in awhile. Give it a try, not only will you make somebody else's day, you'll be surprised at how good it makes you feel.
If enough people do it don't be surprised to learn one day that somebody has bestowed a random act of kindness on you and given you a free lunch.
Monday, October 5, 2009
|My house has an earthen basement. It's accessible by opening two large doors, a normal outside entrance and several windows. It's possible for things to get in there that don't belong by crawling under one of the big doors or going through a broken window. I don't go down there very often; it's kinda creepy.
Last weekend I heard the unmistakable cries of baby kittens coming from the basement. They were very loud and wouldn't stop meowing so I went to investigate. It was only one kitten and he was very small. He barely had his eyes open but when he saw me he started toward me without any hesitation. This was trouble and I knew it.
Without going into long detail which I have done in the past I can tell you that there are feral cats in my neighborhood. My neighbor lady that died recently was the main caretaker for these cats. She fed them regularly and they would only come to my house when she was out of town.
I've shown pictures of my cat and he is an inside cat. We do like to sit on the porch and he will take a walk around the property sometimes, usually to pee in the woods, but he is never unattended. And he never gets close to any of the wild cats because I don't want him to catch anything. He had a girlfriend but she died in 2005, he's been the top cat since then.
Periodically, over the next two days I would go back to the basement to check on the kitten. I never saw his mother. I had picked him up and he would crawl all over me; he was trying to nurse. One night he crawled out of the basement and up three steps. I heard him crying and took him back to the basement. Still no sign of a mother cat.
It's a very difficult decision whether to bring a new life into your household. The cat and I have our routine and we are pretty much stuck in our ways, but there was something about this baby, this kitten in the basement.
The next morning I went to check on Little Max as I had begun to call him and he wasn't in very good shape. In fact, I thought he had died. I picked him up and he moved just a little. Over the next several hours I fed him through an eyedropper and decided that I would bring him into the house and would keep him separated from the cat. He made a remarkable turnaround and I continued to feed him every three hours over the next two days.
My cat was becoming accustomed to all the noise that Little Max was making and had even stopped growling whenever I went into the other room where I was keeping them apart. He was becoming curious and wanted to sniff every part of me whenever I came back into the room after a visit with Max. There's something about being around a new life that just seems to make you happy; it did me anyway.
I had to go away for several hours and when I got home I went straight in to check on Max. He wasn't doing very well. I was surprised. I was mad. I was pissed. How could this be happening? I started crying and begging for the life of this little kitten. This little baby that was trying to work his way into my calm and boring life. My tears and prayers didn't work. Little Max died right there, right in my hands.
Could it have been prevented? Did I not feed him enough? Could the Vet have saved him? Did he have something wrong with him from birth and that's why his mom abandoned him? Why are you so upset, you only had him for two days? These are some of the questions that I have been asking myself for the last few days. I don't know the answer to any of them and probably never will...
...it's been three days, shouldn't I be able to stop crying by now?
Thursday, October 1, 2009
|Did you hear the one about the guy on a plane who didn't follow instructions and remain in his seat as requested to do so? Instead, he jumped out of his seat and ran into the bathroom.
They thought he had a bomb...
...and they evacuated the whole plane.
Now, I'm all for safety and everything. But, sometimes you need to have a little common sense. That guy might've dropped a bomb in the lavatory but I don't think he had anything strapped to his chest or in his shoe.
I know exactly how that man feels. In the MA Fat Woman's family we call it the trick stomach. I inherited it from my father. There are many places I'm sad to say that I have went and left my mark...if you know what I mean.
I can't help it and I usually can't stop it. I don't know if it's nerves, irritable bowel, or just my metabolism. It really puts you in a panic, when your stomach starts to make noises and hurt, you start to sweat some, and there's no facility within site. What's even worse is when you see one and you can't use it.
What would you do?
I think that man made the right choice. He could've stayed in his seat, crapped his pants and stunk up the whole plane. Either way the plane would have been evacuated. Would you have wanted to sit beside him?
When you gotta go...well, you gotta go!