ALL YOU NEED IS LOVE

  Four years ago, today, I watched my precious daughter, Sarah walk down the aisle, to begin a new journey with the love of her life, Jonathon.
 After months of planning, the day had finally come. The hardest part about the whole thing was convincing this total opposite of a Bridezilla, she was not just throwing a party for the convenience of everyone else. She could never grasp the idea that it really was all about her She didn't want anyone to drive too far, or sit through a long drawn out ceremony, or even worry about where to park their cars. She didn't want anyone to wait around while she was having pictures taken, and, really, why bring a gift? She had all she needed.
  This is my little girl. She has always been this way. The middle child, the peace maker. She spent her childhood keeping her brother and sister out of trouble, even if it meant doing their chores. She has never liked drawing attention to herself. She was happy cheering on the teams she played for and preferred binding their wounds. She is the kind of girl who will hold your hair while you throw up, a good friend to have. She grew up to be a teacher and athletic trainer, and I believe any student of hers is truly blessed.

  After months of choosing music, the day of her wedding, looking at her, all I could hear was Van Morrison singing "She's as sweet as Tupelo Honey".
Everyone thought I would cry. Not just because my girl was getting married, but her baby sister, Lauren wasn't there. But, I believe she was there. I think God makes cool things like that happen in Heaven, just so it's more like Heaven, ya know, and she would not have wanted to miss it.
 Anyway, I didn't cry, not until the next day. Maybe it was the let down feeling you get after something big, like Christmas. But I felt like I had lost both my little girls. Just silly, I know I haven't lost either of them, we're are just separated for a season.
 

 

  Well, I'm back.
   We are finally here in our new home, and pretty much settled in. I hope we are happy here because I am never moving again.
    Really, I had a fairly good idea how hard it was going to be, but I had forgotten the fact that I am old and married to an old man. The move was bad enough, but all the painting and remodeling was worse than I imagined. I wonder what it is like to move into a house that needs nothing done.
    I love my little town. We have found a church I am growing to love as much as I did Harvest. We have a Life Group with people as old as us and that's pretty nice.
    Last weekend there was a tree lighting on the square along with fun things for kids to do and fun things for adults to buy. I only bought pecans, but that's all I needed. After moving, I know I have all the stuff I need. There were bouncy houses, a petting zoo and pony rides. There was a big slide with snow. It was 80 degrees, but they brought in snow for sledding.
    The next night they had a parade and more junk to buy. Santa was even there.
     This weekend, my brother and his wife came to see us. We visited with relatives and drove over to see the house where my grandparents had lived. Afterward we went grave yard hopping and found some more relatives. Then we went to a wine tasting. After that everyone was too tired to see the Elvis impersonator do his Christmas show, so we ate Chinese food instead.
   I guess I will start looking for a job next week. Life cant be all fun and games.
  

Head East

  I haven't written in a while. We've been busy selling our house and buying a new one. Now we are packing and I'm not sure this part of the big move will ever end. We have an incredible amount of unnecessary crap. We've given some away and trashed even more and yet, I keep finding more stuff. My brother, Joel said next time he and Sue move, he is going to just burn their house down. Why didn't I think of that? Oh yeah, it's illegal.
 The sad thing is, I believe most of this country is the same way. We have so much more than we need to survive while people are dying from lack of food, shelter and basic medical help. Did that statement make you feel as bad as it made me feel?
  Jon brought Lauren's things down from the attic yesterday. I tried not to look. I need to know her things are still here, even if she's not, but I don't want to see them. It's just too painful. I agreed to let Jon dispose of all her trophies as long as I didn't see it happening. I tell myself, they were hers, and like in that old church hymn, The Old Rugged Cross, Lauren laid her trophies down. She no longer needs any of this stuff, but still, it's hard.
 Wow, I didn't mean for this post to be so seriously sad.
  On Thursday, we will head east, to our new home. I feel good about it. I hope I'm not wrong.

Don't Look Back

 Last night the Rangers lost their bid for the wild card. Although, I have chest pains every time I pick up the Dallas Morning news and see that sad photo of Mike Napoli, with the caption, "coming up short", I choose to live another day.
 If  I'm honest with myself, I know it would have been a painful playoff series. I know they need time to heal and regroup. When Colby Lewis was placed on the D L, needing Tommy John surgery, I wondered how they could go to the World Series without him. Then Felez was inflicted with the same ailment. After all those two pitchers had done for this team, it would not have been right to advance without them.
 Seriously, they need a rebuilding year. This team has given us their best over the last few seasons. And to you people who were booing Josh Hamilton last night, all I can say is, you've lowered yourselves to the level of Yankee fans. Remember, we are Texans and that kind of behavior is beneath us. You should be ashamed.
 I have had some great times watching my favorite team, the Rangers, this year. And really, that's all that matters. Thanks for another great season. I love you guys.

Giving Up The A L West

  OK, so I feel like crying. I know it's just baseball and I know baseball is only a game. It's not like the presidential debates or Jessica Simpson joining Weight Watchers. In the whole big scheme, it doesn't matter. Unless you're a fan.
  Baseball fans never forget. That's just how they are. Someday, someone will ask a meaningless trivia question, about the 2012 season. Maybe they will say, "who had the best record in baseball in 2012 and yet, did not win their division?", and it will be like a knife in my heart.
  I have a theory. I think after going to the World Series two years in a row, and having played more games for a longer period than any other team, the Rangers are just tired. Not to mention losing their two best pitchers to injuries.
  I know it's not over. They have at least one more game with someone, probably Baltimore. I don't think I can watch.
  I know there are one or two of you out there, who are taking this just as hard as I am. But if this is as far as they go, for this year, we have to thank them for another great season. Ranger fans were fortunate to watch one of the best third baseman in baseball have a stellar year. Adrian Beltre is phenomenal. I even read Lyle Lovett, while on tour this summer, changed the words to Brown Eyed Handsome Man, to say "like Adrian Beltre". That's high praise.
  Did Yogi Berra say, It ain't over til it's over, or, It ain't over til the fat lady sings? I'm not sure. But this fat lady is too sad to sing, today...maybe next spring..
 

Baseball At The Movies

  I have a new favorite baseball movie, Trouble With The Curve.
I won't tell you all about it, because you need to see it for yourself. The story line is great, the actors were perfectly cast, and it seemed to be written by someone who knows about baseball.
  Over the years, I have seen many baseball movies, some I liked, some I loved, and a few were forgettable. Most people will name The Natural as the best all time baseball movie. I think it is boring and way too long. I feel the same way about Eight Men Out, and Field Of Dreams. Now there's a movie that makes no sense. Field Of Dreams was probably a very good book, but I don't think it transitioned well to film. I can hear the groans and almost see your eyes rolling, but really, If you think about it, it was a stupid plot and an excuse for Kevin Costner to over act. I preferred him as the likable, "I'm only serious about baseball", character, Crash Davis, in Bull Durham.
  I must admit, when delivering quotes from great movies, I sometimes get Bull Durham and Major League confused. But they were both so funny, as was The Sand Lot. What movies do these lines come from?
 You're all a bunch of lollygagers!
 You're killin' me, Smalls!
  I look like a banker.
 I hope you had fun with that, and by the way, There's No Crying In Baseball!
  

Random Observations

 I was watching Fox & Friends this morning and noticed something peculiar. All the women, even the guest, had unusually prominent cheek bones. The only rational explanation is, the make up artist has found a way to accentuate cheek bones and was practicing on every female on the show.
 For those unfamiliar with Fox & Friends, let me say, this is a morning news show, about like The Today Show, except they interview far fewer liberals. Fox News is a very good news network, but they will never be taken seriously until they fire all the pageant make up artist. No one wants to see Miss Rhode Island, discussing poverty and crack babies at 6:00 o'clock in the morning.

  Driving to work the other morning, I passed one beautiful house and lovely, manicured lawn, right after another. Then suddenly, there it was. I couldn't really tell much about the house itself, with all the cars parked on the lawn. But, it had foil in the windows and very little paint. There was a child's wadding pool, filled with murky water, and a pitiful old dog was drinking from it. Posted on the trunk of an old dead tree, was a sign. NO TRESPASSING! Everything about this house said, stay away. I hardly think a no trespassing sign was necessary.

 If you're a Texas Rangers fan, have you noticed some of the players and all of the bull pen are growing beards? Around this time, every season, they do something for "good luck". Baseball players are notoriously superstitious. I am only superstitious about baseball, and after losing a one to one extra inning game on Friday night and getting shut out today, I think I'll send them a package of disposable razors. I'm just sayin'...
 

Elvis Got A Home Run

  Some crazy, out of the ordinary stuff has happened today. Laqueta got a new car, Stacie's engaged, Bill O'Riley said something funny and Elvis Andrus got a home run. And, of course, after a month long dry spell, I am,  finally posting something on my blog.
  I have had such a busy life the last few weeks. We have been trying to sell our house, and we've made multiple trips to East Texas. But most of my brain has been occupied by the worst bank conversion I have ever been through. Seriously, I thought it would be easier. After all, I go through bank conversions like Alex Rodriguez goes through aging starlets.
 I didn't watch any of the Republican convention,(convention, conviction, whatever..) last week, because the Rangers were playing great ball. I don't expect to watch any of the Dem's this week for the same reason, but now and then, Jon switches channels and I am simply amazed. Thank God we have baseball!
 

 We are remodeling a bathroom in our house, in hopes of getting it on the market in the next few weeks. So, of course, Jon and I are, for the first time in a very long time, sharing a bathroom. This is a hardship I'm not sure our marriage will endure.
  I shouldn't be so picky. Indoor plumbing is a blessing in some parts of the world. I grew up in a house with 10 other people, ( seven were boys ) and we had one bathroom. Of course we also had a full time maid. I think her name was Mom. Anyway, everyday, when we got home from school, that bathroom was spotless. I don't know how she did it.
 I cleaned out my closet and gave one 20 gallon and three 36 gallon trash bags full of clothes, shoes and purses to Goodwill. I know that makes me sound like a good and generous person, but truth is, I needed to unload some stuff. Things become a burden if you don't really use them. I had to quit torturing myself and accept the fact that if I am ever small enough to wear some of those things, they will be out of style. Also, I am a wasteful person, buying things I don't need. And as for giving them away, I'm just too lazy to have a garage sale or take them to a consignment shop.
 I need a beach and a glass of wine.

 

Blessed Are They Who Mourn For They Sall Be comforted

 It's hard to understand how someone could take another life. It's even harder to imagine what would make a person plot, plan and then execute a mass murder. Why kill other humans, folks who are just enjoying life?

  In the next few days, we will hear dozens of opinions on why a medical school drop out would take the lives of people he didn't even know. Most will rage on and on about gun control. You will hear conspiracy theories from the extreme right, and TV preachers will talk about the dangers of letting children watch evil movies. I'm sure some tabloid writer somewhere will write about "The Batman Curse".
 But, before it gets too crazy, let me offer my opinion.
 In a world where there is no God, there is no hope. Children raised without hope, grow up to be, well, hopeless.
  How sad to think this is all there is. To believe your life is in your own hands.
  I have known a sadness so deep, it took my breath away. All I could do was cry out to Jesus. He is my hope and the reason I live today. He has secured my future.

 
  
 

Changes

  Jon and I have always talked about doing something different. We have dreamed of calling a place home, not because AT&T said so, or because it's where our stuff is, but just because it's where we want to live.
 In the next few months, we will be working toward making that dream come true. We will shake off our fears, pack up our worldly possessions, our two dogs, my father, and God help us, his dog, and leave this place.
 It will not be easy to leave. My daughter is buried here.
 I know it's crazy and maybe a little morbid. This attachment I have to that grave is surely some kind of spiritual metaphor for my life. But, it hurts to think no one will leave flowers on her birthday or a Christmas tree in December. There won't be anyone standing over her grave updating her on the Texas Rangers progress toward a World Series pennant. But, then again, I know she's not really there.
 I recently became friends with a woman who, believe it or not, lost her 17 year old daughter in 2001, and her name was Lauren. We were talking last night about how she has carried a box full of her Lauren's things all over the country and she didn't know why. I told her I understood. I have trophies and dolls and even a baton bag that has not been opened in six years. I think the reason we do this is, these girls were so young when they died. They never were married or had children. I'm not sure if either of them were ever in love. So we keep their things as a kind of proof they ever existed. I don't know who we are trying to prove it to. Perhaps those who, themselves do not yet exist.
 Anyway, I know I have to keep on living and taking care of the ones I live for.
 Oh, and that sweet friend said she would take flowers to Lauren's grave for me. How can I leave a friend like that?

For My Baby Girl

Happy Birthday, sweet Lauren.

I hope you're having cake and ice cream with Jesus. I know there are no calories in Heaven.

Vacation In Heaven

 We took a little unplanned trip, this week, to East Texas. This is where my parents grew up, and it is beautiful. Seriously, if Heaven is the best place a person can be, I believe Heaven will be an East Texas family reunion. And there will be ice cream, watermelon, sweet tea and baked sweet potatoes. People will be fishing and children will be swimming in Lake Fork. There will be grandmothers in floral spring dresses and of course, every dog you every loved will be there waiting for you.
  I caught up with some long lost cousins, and my mother's only living sibling, my Aunt Lorene. At ninety three, she is still a lovely women.
 As a child, I hung around the kitchen, quietly listening to the conversations of my mother and her sisters. They were all amazing women, but aunt Lorene was always my favorite. She took my aging grandmother into her home and cared for her until Grandmother was just too bad off for her to do it alone. It broke her heart when she had to put her in a nursing home. So much so, she talked to me about it yesterday. She experienced loss and heartache and remained stoic and firm in her faith. The only time I ever saw her cry, was when my mother was sick with Lou Gehrig's.

 You know that lady they talk about in the Bible, the Psalm 31 woman? I think they were talking about my aunt. I hope it's not too late for me to get that same reputation.

 OK, so I've dealt with my depression and I will try not to bring anyone down, from here on. Or at least until I get the blues again. Which will probably be a couple of days from now.
 That reminds me. Jon took me to see Buddy Guy and Johnny Lang In Dallas this weekend. I can not find the words to express just how talented these guys are. I was completely blown away by Johnny Lang, and then, Buddy Guy played and I was, well, slain! He is 75 years old and has more energy on stage than anyone I have ever seen, And what a phenomenal talent. Like I said, there are no words, but Guitar God comes to mind.
 Johnny Lang is so.....I don't know. What is it, girls, about a handsome young man and an electric guitar? I only know, here at fifty blah blah years old, the feeling never goes away.

The New Normal

  I spent the day trying to feel normal again. I worked in the yard, floated in the pool, played with the dogs, and broke down and cried every time I found myself alone.
 Recently someone who had lost a pet said it was like losing a child. I thought to myself, no it's not. Now I can say, It's not quite as bad. The one thing that makes it worse is, everyone, including yourself, expects you to get over it and move on.
  I feel guilty for all the things I didn't do for Darnell. I hate that I didn't realize he was sick sooner. The day i drove him to the vet, he sat in his seat, looking out the window, so happy. Darnell always loved riding in the car. I should have taken him for more rides.
  Now, when I look out my kitchen window, he is not in the yard playing. When I sit on the swing, he doesn't climb in my lap. He is not there to rock with me, his head on my chest, sad dachshund eyes looking up at me, with love and gratitude.
  The night after Darnell died, we went out to dinner. I was not hungry and could barely choke any thing down. The waitress brought Jon this huge plate of everything greasy and fried, that he should not eat. Suddenly, I had a bit of a panic attack and thought, soon, I will be completely alone. everyone and everything, I love will die and leave me alone on this planet.
  Is fear my new normal?

 Darnell is gone.
  I spent this week running back and forth to the vet, waking up at all hours and praying, praying, praying. Last night the vet said he was well enough to come home, but he was still so sick. I gave him his antibiotics and held him and prayed for him. I woke up early and checked on him. Seemed better. I gave him his medicine. When I was leaving for work, I checked on him and he had moved off his bed to the floor. I figured the floor was cooler. I couldn't wait to go home for lunch and see him. When I walked in, he was still in the same place on the floor. I guess he must have died right after I left for work.
 I can't stop crying. I missed him so much while he was in the hospital and now he is gone forever.

 He had the most lovable personality I had ever seen in a dog. He was truly unique. I'll never forget him. I'll miss him forever.

 Well, when I get down, I try to get back up again before I write too many post. No one wants to read this sad, mournful crap for too long, so I'm sorry but, here's one more.
 My dog is sick. My sweet little Darnell is in the hospital with pneumonia. He is critical and the vet isn't giving me much hope.
 I know, the non dog lovers in the world will not see the seriousness of this. But, I love that little dog so much.

 I saw Darnell's picture in the paper one Sunday. He was the pet of the week from the animal shelter. For some reason, I just knew he was supposed to be my dog. So I adopted him. That was six years ago, and he has been such a sweet little companion. I remember they told me he had been dropped off with another little puppy, and he was so sick, he almost died. His little friend didn't make it.
 Adopting Darnell was last thing Lauren and I did together. There were days after she died, when I didn't want to face another day. But I always knew I had to take care of Darnell. He needed me and that kind of kept me going.
 If you pray, please pray for Darnell.
 

It will be Alright In The end

  My last day with Lauren, was six years ago, today.
  It was a really fun time, I don't think I could ever forget. Jon's 50th birthday was on the 6th, 06-06-06! So, of course we had to have a surprise party for him. But, his birthday was on a Tuesday, I think, so we had it on Saturday.
 We spent the day getting things ready and annoying him. He always said Lauren and I could laugh for hours about nothing. This day it was especially annoying because he thought we were ignoring him, when all the while we were doing things for his surprise party. And he was very surprised. He said, about the whole 666 thing, if he had known being the Anti-Christ paid so little, he would have worked for the phone company instead. Which was funny because, he worked for AT&T for 32 years. I guess you had to be there.
 Anyway, Lauren and I had a great day. I remember we were at the supermarket and they were handing out ice cream sandwiches to promote the upcoming Moo Fest. It was very hot and I was trying to drive with a melting ice cream treat in my hand. We joked about how embarrassing it would be to be killed in a wreck eating ice cream.
 She was having a bad backache, and before she left school, she had tried to give blood, but they said she was severely anemic. The next morning we were on the front porch and I was hugging her goodbye, and begging her to stay one more day and see her doctor. I can still feel my arms around her, but, I also can feel her wet, feverish head leaning against me when she was two. Some things stay with you forever. Next thing I knew, she was saying, "Mom, I'll be home in two weeks".
  Two weeks from then, was Father's Day, just like it will be this year. The next two weeks will be hard, but I will make it.
 Today, we didn't feel like pretending we were OK, so we skipped church. Instead we went out to breakfast and then a movie. The movie we saw was, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. It was good, set in India with a lot of veteran actors like Judi Dench, Tom Wilkinson, Maggie Smith and Bill Nighy. Something one of the young actors kept saying was, "It will be alright in the end. And if it's not alright, it's not the end."
 I really liked that. I know some people think, after six years, I should be alright. But, I'm not alright. Lauren was my baby. She left a big ol' empty whole in my heart when she died.
 I'm not alright, so it must not be the end.

A Hand-me-down Table

 When Jon and I married, in 1979, we were given an old dinning room set. The table and chairs had been a gift to his grandparents, some 60 years earlier on their wedding day. It was worn and had been antiqued green at some point in it's history, but still, I loved it. We thought we could use it until we were able to buy a new one someday. Someday never came and we raised three children around that table. We were a family who had meals together, at least once a day. As our children grew, we saw their personalities develop, interest bloom and important decisions made at the dinner table.
  Eventually, we refinished the table and bought new chairs. We moved it all over the panhandle, until we landed in, what I thought would be our permanent home in the country.
 Besides great meals, the table saw hours upon hours of homework and hobbies.  I used it's surface a hundred times, cutting out patterns and cloth for the dresses my girls would wear. It heard the teary confessions from close friends and family, as well as tall tales and laughter. A million I love you's were said over that table.
  In the days after my daughter died, our house was full of loved ones, family and friends. I remember looking at the faces of my brothers around the table, as they struggled to offer comfort in the midst of their own pain. I saw Lauren's friends gathered for a meal around it, needing each other's company, as well as mine.
 A month later, Eric and Sarah were home for a family wedding. We sat around the table eating and trying not to look at Lauren's empty chair. It was just too hard for me to take, so when we moved to town, I convinced Jon we needed a new table.
 Now, the old, drop leaf table sits, covered in the barn. We drag it out, when needed, and use it in the greenhouse or backyard for family reunions and parties. People still sit around it, telling their tall tales of golf and fishing. The sadness has left their faces and everything seems normal again.
 I still have an ache in my heart when I see the old table, but I am so thankful for the memories. I look forward to the day I see grandchildren with koolaide smiles and wet bathing suits gathered around it for a birthday party.
 Father's day is coming up. I think it's time to call my brothers and dad, drag the table out of the barn, burn some burgers and listen to some old stories.

   This morning, I was driving to work in my blue, 350Z and feeling extremely cool. My husband recently bought a new stereo for it, making my delusions of coolness even grander. So, I'm driving along, listening to Eric Clapton, E C Was Here, which has been my favorite album since it was on vinyl, wearing my shades and just chillin', as only the very cool can do. When I started to notice other drivers watching me, I thought, wow, is it possible I look as cool as I feel? But just as my ego was swelling like a pregnant teen on a hot day, I realized I had just driven the last ten blocks with my left turn signal on. Oh no, I've become one of them! All I needed was blue hair and a Chihuahua, that calls me Mommy. Old age is Hell, isn't it?
 One of the young Hispanic girls at work was trying to identify a customer. She said, "You know her, right? She's an old white lady." I told her, I didn't know all the old white ladies, but we do have a secret hand shake.
  It's Friday night and you know what that means. It's time to take out my contacts, put on some elastic waist pants and have a little wine for my arthritis while I watch the Rangers game. Old age is kind of comfortable.
 

I'm No Annie Oakley

  The other day, I was talking to Jon about the state this world is in. Rampant crime, lack of respect for life and authority and I, jokingly, said he needed to teach me to shoot. To my surprise, he took me seriously and bought me a gun, a Glock to be specific.
 Now, you should know, I am terribly afraid of guns. When I was a little girl, my sister lived in Washington DC, and on one of her trips home, she drove a blue 65 Mustang equipped with a pistol in the glove box, for protection. I have a very distinct memory of sitting in that car, playing with her gun, and it gives me chills. I have known so many people killed by guns, some intentionally, and that is the extent of my experience with fire arms. I never allowed Jon to have a gun until our kids had all left for college because, Lauren was a sleep walker, but also I didn't want him to "accidentally" kill me. None of that matters, as he seems to now, be stockpiling weapons like a Fox News junkie. Understand, I believe we, as Americans, have the right to bare arms, however they scare the crap out of me.
 When he showed me my new gun I was a wreck. "Please don't load that in the house. What are you pointing that at? Just put it up and let me get used to it."
  Yesterday, he asked if I wanted to ice down some beers in the pickup and drive out to the country and take target practice. I said yes, but, what I meant was yes to icing down the beers and going to the country. Well, he showed me how to load the gun, hold it, and fire it. He put a little paper target on a fence post. He had the paper target because he and his friends are crazy people who practice before they hunt and shoot cute little prairie dogs.
 I held the gun the way he showed me, lined up the target and pulled the trigger. It was loud and jerked upward in my hand. I said that scarred the ----- out of me and I was not going to do it again. He said I should try it one more time and I did, then told him I was through. I'm no cowgirl. I don't need to know how to shoot. I could never shoot a human being and I certainly wouldn't hurt an animal. I'm a woman, and we nurture. That's our thing.
 So, if I ever have an intruder, a mugger, or anyone meaning me harm, I will have to do what my mother taught me. I will nag him until his ears bleed.
 

Dot, Not Feather

  OK, so the Rangers had another tough night. Is it possible they aren't as good as I think they are?
 Actually, I blame the announcers, Tom and that new guy. Every game, they start bragging on one of the players and I think, OK, you just jinxed him, and I'm right. They did it to Holland last week and tonight it was Colby Lewis. They went on and on about how Colby has not lost a game or given up a home run this year, so, well you can guess what happened. I'm not normally superstitious, but this is baseball, and you don't want to tempt the baseball Gods, or fate, or whatever it is. I suppose it could be, that it's early in the season and Washington is just fooling around with the line up to see what will work best. But, what will work best is, he should pull a pitcher as soon as the commentators start listing all their achievements.

 Did anyone else notice in the first inning, Johnny Damon looked almost clean shaven? But, by the sixth he looked like a caveman.

 When I look at the Indian's logo, I have to wonder, how is it not offensive? I mean the little red face with the feather, that's awful. And, it's not an Indian. It's a Native American. They should be wearing turbins.
 It's gonna be a long season.......

Dalai Loves W

 Did you see where Piers Morgan interviewed the Dalai Lama? He asked him about our leaders and he said he loved George W. Bush. Go figure, huh?

 Crazy stuff is happening all around us. From drunk grandparents towing their 5 yr old grandchild in a toy car behind their SUV, to dolphins being bullied by other dolphins, these are the strange headlines of the day. My favorite being, the Florida golfer dragged away by a nine foot alligator. I know it's not funny, but I never knew a golfer who would let a thing like that interfere with his game.

  But, by far, the craziest thing to happen in my world today, is the Texas Rangers were defeated two days in a row by a stinkin' Canadian team. How is Canada even able to be a part of  MLB, much less, the American League? They should be playing Iceland or Norway. We cannot continue to let them sneak across our border and infiltrate our vending machines with those odd coins. You just don't know how annoying it is to brake a roll of dimes and find one with the queens profile. It's not worth ten cents.

  Don't try to make sense of it, folks. I'm just venting.


  

I'm The One In The Orange Shoes

 My mother had six sons before I was born, so naturally, I grew up wearing pink.  She made all my clothes, which, as I learned later, caused those who did not know me, to think I was a little rich kid. She was a very good seamstress, and I was her Barbie doll, so I was well dressed. But, she rarely strayed from pink.

 Like every child, I eventually rebelled, and wanted to dress myself. We were out shopping for Easter shoes, one Saturday, and I found the perfect pair. They were orange patent leather, and the shiniest things you ever saw. She, of course said no, but I insisted. My mom saw this as a learning experience, a chance for me to feel the misery of failure. So, she finally agreed to the purchase, all the while knowing, my Easter dress was pink.

 Now, in those days , I, like most kids, had one pair of shoes. Yes, I got them for Easter, but they would be worn to church, school, and to play. This was the first of many poor choices in footwear, I would make in my life.
  Once, my friend, Ivy and I were looking at old photos. When we came to the group picture of my fourth grade class, she started to laugh. She told me how she, and her older sister Tracy, would make fun of me in my orange shoes. When I came over to their house, Tracy would say, "Here comes Sheila in her orange shoes". Well, it no longer hurts my feelings. The shoes were bright orange and begged to be laughed at. After all, it's not like Tracy ever wore my training bra on her head or scrubbed her dresser drawers with my toothbrush.......Oh wait, she did do that.

What I learned at Walmart Today

  It's been a pretty good weekend, so far, with the exception of 50 mile an hour wind. But, here in West Texas, we call that Spring.
  Needless to say, I couldn't do much yard work in that kind of wind. So, after sleeping late, doing laundry, and watching the Rangers beat the Twins, I made my weekly trip to Walmart.
  Any experienced shopper should know, if a shopping cart has been abandoned mid store, there has to be a reason. But, my husband, having picked up too many items to carry, thinks the cart was left for him. So here we go, strolling through Walmart with this ear piercing squeak, alerting everyone of our presence. People are wincing, dogs are howling, and everyone thinks, "There but for the grace of God, go I". A woman passed us, her cart making a noise almost a bad, and gave me a knowing nod. Yes, I thought, we are the Lepers of Walmart.

  Most of us have received those emails titled, The People of Walmart, or, More Walmartians. I'ts pictures taken of people, in and outside the store, dressed in the most hideous garb, and doing incredibly stupid things. I've always wondered where those pictures were taken, were they staged and, most importantly, are there any of me.
  Today, I saw a 350 pound woman wearing a tshirt, emblazoned with the lightening bolt flash, from the comic book character, Flash. I watched, to see just how quickly she moved, but she just starred at me. I looked away, then back again, and she was still starring. She wasn't very quick at all. I found myself wondering why someone would bother to manufacture that particular shirt in such a large size. Who bought it for her, or did she choose it herself, some kind of ironic fashion statement?

 I found a new product at Walmart today. It's a coffee creamer called Natural Bliss, Sweet Cream flavor. It's milk, cream and sugar already mixed for your coffee. I thought it was a little too sweet. I usually put just a tiny bit of stevia in my coffee if any at all, but it was a nice change. It tasted like coffee drank, from tiny teacups, with my father on Christmas mornings. A very nice memory.

Let's Hear it For the Sista's

  Ten years ago today I lost the best friend I ever had. My sister, Sherry gave up a long hard fought battle with heart disease.
  When I say my best friend, only those with sisters can understand what I mean. How many people can say they share exact DNA with another person. I know, you're thinking, "But Sheila, you share exact DNA with six other people besides your sister." This is true. However, those six other people suffered brain damage in vitro, rendering them males, and unable to communicate with higher forms, such as females. I'm only kidding. I am very close to all my brothers, chauvinist, they may be.
  But, Sherry had a big part in who I am today. She was there for me, when I was six, and saw the incredibly stupid crap I pulled at sixteen,but still had my back. She knew my faults, and put me on a pedestal in spite of them. I saw this same thing in my daughters, Sarah and Lauren. The hardest thing I ever had to do, was tell Sarah her baby sister had died. I had given her, what was supposed to be, a life long friend, and now she was gone.
  History talks of brotherhood. The Bible rarely mentions women at all. I think this is just another way men make it all about themselves. I believe the best relationships have to be with the relational of the species. The women. We who nurture. We are what's best about being human.

  

Trash Talk

 Is it now acceptable to litter in Texas? I have noticed the streets and highways are becoming so filled with trash, one might think this was New Mexico. Today, just as I was pulling into the turning lane, the person in the car next to me opened her door and dumped trash out on the street. I turned the corner and saw a man in a pickup roll down his window and throw his coke cans in a parking lot.
 This is happening everyday. Where is our pride? What ever happened to "Don't Mess With Texas", Willie Nelson and that sad Indian, oops I mean Native American, with the tear rolling down his cheek? Remember Alice's Restaurant Massacre? Someone was almost drafted for littering.
  My favorite scripture is Psalm 24:1. The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell therein. I would never think of myself as an environmentalist, but I believe God gave us this world and expects us to be good stewards.

 
 

Happy Opening Day

   Opening day at the ballpark, the most wonderful day of the year. I love everything about this day. The national anthem makes me cry. I get chills as everyone, from the starting line up, to the athletic trainers and masseuses are introduced. Then, the Texas Rangers, the greatest ball club in the world, take the field and my heart swells with pride.
  They looked great today. They looked like the reigning American League Champs we all love so much.
 This is what makes life worth living. Baseball, along with true love and homegrown tomatoes, is all a body needs to be happy.
  It's going to be a great season and, we will let the Angels rag on C. J. this year, they deserve him.
  Who cares, who wins the White house in November, as long as Texas takes the pennant in October. We can always secede after baseball season.
  Let's go Rangers!
 

Just Call Me A Winner

  I was a winner in the big Mega Million dollar lottery this weekend. That's right. I, along with nineteen of my coworkers, won three dollars. Normally I wouldn't have played the lottery, but one of the guys at work decided we should all put in ten dollars and buy two hundred tickets. How could we lose? Everyone got real excited, but I just got mad, irritated and put out. This is how I know I will never be a gambler.
 Apparently, what motivates the typical gambler, is the belief he will one day win the big one. I have never felt this way. When we were all discussing whether to buy the tickets or not, I thought about how most winners are groups of people, usually coworkers. Well, I didn't want to be the only one showing up for work on Monday morning because I was not an instant millionaire. But, when the others were feeling giddy and hopeful, I just felt like I wanted my ten dollars back. Now, I have my winnings and I'm just down seven dollars.
 I like to get something for my money. I have a hard time buying the brand cosmetics I like, because they are too expensive. But, if they are offering a free tote, suddenly I can afford it. I don't know why, but I just can't resist a free tote. I have come so close to joining the Book Of The Month Club just to get the free tote. Free makeup bags and umbrellas are nice also. How many people join that big name coffee club just to get a free coffee maker or travel mugs, only to cancel as soon as they have fulfilled their obligation?
 What makes us think these things are free? If someone on the street corner offered me a free tote, no purchase necessary, no strings attached, I would probably turn them down. I guess, by making the big purchase first, I feel like I have earned the freebie. I was thinking about this, and realized this is how most of us view our salvation.

 We try to work for it, pay for it, do something to deserve it but, it really is the only thing in life that is free.

A Restless Night

  I can't sleep. I'm so tired after a long day of  working in the yard, but sleep just will not come. Instead, I'm having a series of panic attacks. Tonight my friend and coworker is slipping away. I hate cancer. I know I overuse the word hate, but as ugly as hate is, cancer is uglier.
 I have prayed for her, and will continue to pray. But, as I pray, I can almost audibly hear God say, "No, not healing. Just ask for peace and comfort for Suzy. I will comfort her."
 I have seen too many lives lost to cancer. It doesn't just take a life. It drags it out slowly like some medieval torture machine. When it's over, the victims family and loved ones have the look of battle worn soldiers. You almost expect them to walk in on crutches, bandaged from head to toe. But there are no bandages that can hold a breaking heart, no crutches to prop up a weary soul.
 The first cancer victim I knew well, was a much loved Sunday school teacher. My friend Ivy and I would go to her house on Saturdays where we would bang on her piano, swing on her porch swing and flirt with her nerdy son. She had a beautiful yard filled with flowers and she made us cookies and ice tea. When she died, her husband closed up the house and let all the flowers die. We never saw that family again.
  My Aunt Eloise was a quiet lady who loved children. I know I must have been an irritating and obnoxious child, but she laughed at all my jokes. When she died, I remember sleeping on the floor at my Aunt Fay's house, listening to Eloise's husband, my Uncle Odis, sobbing loudly, in the next room. He was my daddy's brother, and a 6 foot 5, WW2 hero, wounded in battle and left for dead. Now, cancer had taken his wife. Years later, it would take his life, as well as his daughter's.
  Family, high school friends, the list goes on forever. All we can do is pray and try to prop up all those affected. And maybe try to get a little sleep.
  

Pioneers and Settlers

 After weeks of beautiful sunshine and warm weather, tomorrow Spring arrives with, of course, much cooler temperatures and wind.
What did I expect? I have lived here in this schizophrenic climate most of my life, and it still catches me off guard. The one consistency, the thing the weather man never gets wrong, is wind.
 I know I complain about the weather here in West Texas a lot, but truth is, I don't want to be anywhere else. I hate to travel and my motto has always been, Home is where your stuff is. I don't mind so much being somewhere else, as long as I can be home in an instant. Like on Star Trek, I want Scottie to beam me up as soon as I am ready to go.
My boss just got back from New York City, and said he had a great time. I think maybe I would like to see New York, then I picture myself, in the middle of this huge city, surrounded by people, and wanting to be home right then. Not as soon as possible, but right then. I know this could happen. It happened to me in the middle of a traffic jam in Atlanta Georgia, while tornado sirens were blaring. It happened to me at a bus stop, with a thousand other people, at midnight in St. Louis. It happened to me in road construction leaving work today.
  I believe the world consist of Pioneers and Settlers. I am a Settler. A hundred or more years ago, the pioneers were rolling across these plains in their covered wagons. One of them, probably a moody blond, said "Hey guys, I think I'm gonna stay here awhile. I know it's windy, and there's nothing but jackrabbits and rattlesnakes, but my butt's tired of riding. I think I can settle for this." Yes, I am a Settler.

It Only Hurts When I Cry

  You know what makes me sad? Those commercials for antidepressants. You know, the ones that say, "depression hurts", and show the sad faces of people too depressed to function. I don't know what it is about those ads, but they get all over me. Especially when they show their dogs, who look just as sad. But, even that is not as bad as the Humane Society commercials. I'd rather pick at a scab than watch those. Seriously, I change the channel as soon as I hear Sarah McLachlan's voice. Poor ole Sarah. We all now associate her music with sadness. Her next album should be titled, Music To Kill Yourself by.
  Some mornings, I find it hard to face another day. Usually this is after I've had a really good dream where I've spent time with Lauren. It's tough to realize it was just a dream and she is no longer here. On days like that, I can dwell on it or I can choose to be happy.
I never thought I would be able to say that, but it's true.
  You know what makes me happy? Funny people, like the ones I work with. They keep me laughing all day. Also, the four year old girl who comes in the bank every day and ask me, "Hey, do you want to go to a tea party?".
  My children make me happy. I look forward to seeing them whenever I can.
  My dogs are hilarious. Each has a personality of their own.
  It makes my heart swell with joy, knowing baseball season is around the corner.
  Music makes me happy. Last night, Jon and I went to the Amarillo Symphony. The featured violinist was Chee Yun Kim, a music professor from SMU, and the music was Brahms. I don't think I have ever had music bring me to tears, aside from worship. I know it may sound cliche, but it was an emotional experience.
  Also, it makes me happy that Jon and I enjoy the same things, music, baseball, our kids and dogs. We have a lot of fun together. I watched an old couple at the concert last night, who must have been in their late 80's. They were so into each other, it was sweet.
   What makes me very happy, is knowing some morning, I'll wake up and know my time with Lauren has just begun and will never end. Momma will be there and my sister as well. I'm sure there will be music, baseball and some dogs I have been missing.

Happy Birthday Dr Seuss

        Red Fish, Blue Fish, here's a birthday Wish Fish.
        Oh what a time we had with those Rhymes.
        You made our childhood sweet.
        We had a laugh with that Cat In The Hat,
         Green Eggs and Ham and Sam I Am,
         To Think I Saw It On Mulberry Street.
         You're a hundred and eight, so let's cut the cake.
         We Loved you so Dear, dear Dr. Seuss.
          So, give him a cheer! happy B. Day to Yoose!
          
          Well, I never claimed to be a poet,
           and this awkward verse surely will show it.
           I should stop now, yes I know it,
           if I keep going, I'm sure to blow it.

           But there is much more to be said.
           Like Horton heard a Who, and hatched an egg.
           Hop On Pop, and Put Me In the Zoo
           There's a Wocket In My Pocket
           And The Foot Book too!
           The Lorax loves trees,
            Christmas the Grinch stole!
            And you, Seuss could see,
            Oh The Places We Will Go!

   
   

Politely Rebeling

   As you know from my earlier rants, we have a street or two undergoing construction in my town. There are a couple of intersections I go through daily, that have flashing red lights on either side. Every one knows, or should know, a flashing red light means stop and wait your turn. I have had many instances lately, when the vehicle on the other side did not stop, but rolled on through like they were special. Some try to sneak by, while no one is looking and others just don't care.
Today I was sitting at this flashing light, like a good American, when someone decided to sneak on through. I had to control myself and not honk the horn, stomp my feet and, while waving my fist in the air, scream "it's not your turn." Then, it occurred to me, I have become that kid who takes names while the teacher is out of the room. I'm an adult Hall Monitor!
 I haven't always been like this. I was once a rebel. That is, if you define a rebel as someone who chews gum in class. OK, I'm not being completely honest. I didn't chew gum in class, but I never told on anyone for doing so.
 Now that I think about it, I have turned into a boring, law abiding citizen. I try to turn library books in on time, you don't have to post a sign to keep me off your grass, and if I had a baby, I would carry a dirty diaper twenty miles to the next trash can before, I would ever consider, leaving it in a Walmart parking lot for some poor unsuspecting soul to step on. While on that subject, I also, always return my shopping cart to the designated shopping cart drop off.
  Occasionally, Jon and I buy groceries together. After our cart is full or overflowing, he will push it into the 20 items or less check out, and I just want to hide. Fortunately, the cashiers never say anything and, I guess it's better than when he wants to go through the self check with three bottles of wine and a package of model airplane glue. Why can't we just follow the rules?

Courageous

 So, yesterday, I finally watched Courageous. So many people had recommended this movie to me, and it was really good. However, these well meaning people neglected to tell me the little girl dies. I cried all the way through the movie and most of the rest of the day. Like my niece, Katie, told me once, "I cried till I had a headache."
 Courageous is a very good movie, with great insight on what makes a father and how generation after generation, has suffered from their lack. But it's tough to watch.
 I know loosing a child is the hardest thing a person will experience. If you disagree, ask yourself why God gave his son to atone for our sins. We're pretty bad people, so it was going to take a pretty big sacrifice. He didn't send his mother, aunt Betsy or cousin Burt. He sent His heart. Our children are our hearts. Though I didn't know what I was saying at the time, I recall telling the doctor, who had delivered the terrible news, Lauren could not be dead. She was my heart and my heart was still beating.
 God knew, even if  you had never had a child of your own, you would understand the depth of his love by his sacrifice. You had once been a child who either loved a father or longed for one. He knows our hearts, because we are His heart.

Drama In Our Town

 I haven't written in a while, not much to say, not much happening. I guess that's a good thing.
 One thing that happened, though, my husband Jon, was out Saturday morning taking pictures and drove by our old house out in the country. He said the police had the exit from the highway leading to the old place blocked off and there was a SWAT team around the house. He thought, from the lights on the small structures they had built out back, they might have gotten caught growing weed. I was certain those structures were for chickens and they were likely having cock fights. Both illegal, but only one would be hard to stomach. It turns out, we were both wrong and it was only some guy waving a gun and making threats.
 The craziest thing about this story is, our little town has a SWAT team. Of course, I think it's a "volunteer" SWAT team. There are eight members and seven are named Carl. They practice on Saturday morning by hunting down and shooting prairie dogs.
 I feel much safer just knowing they are out there. Thanks Carls.

Football and Sociopaths

 I'm trying not to use the word hate so much to describe my feelings. I believe the word has lost it's true meaning from overuse. Kind of like literally. People say literally so often when they actually mean figuratively. I worked with a lady once who, every day before lunch,  said, "I'm literally starving to death". I always wanted to call 911 or start an intervention and make her eat something.
  I say all this, to hopefully express my deep dislike of football. I know you must be thinking  "Oh she's one of those girlie girls who just never watched football enough to know anything about it". You are wrong. I have 6 older brothers and I have watched more than my share and was even a fan at one time.
  I am of the opinion, that football brings out the worst in men. It is a brutal, barbaric sport that alters lives. The big and fast think it is their salvation. They hope for a scholarship and then a contract. When it doesn't happen, they relive that big game and never get over it. They learn to bully the smaller boys and some of them never get over it.
 Tonight is the Super Bowl. All that means to me is, football season is finally over and we are only 2 months away from Baseball season! The only reason to watch the Super Bowl is, the commercials and halftime show. This year, the halftime show will be done by Madonna. If there is anything I like less than football, it is Madonna. I would rather see a high school marching band perform at halftime than Madonna. I think I can actually use the word Hate to describe how I feel about her music.

The Zombie Apocalypse

 For the second time, the construction crew that is ruining my morning drive, has cut a fiber optic cable, practically paralyzing this city, and certainly making a simple work day an unending Hell. This present day "run on the bank" makes the '29 stock market crash look like a day at the beach. People loose their minds over out of service ATMs and believe it is their right to scream obscenities at 19 year old part time tellers. These 19 year old part timers are like my kids. I may get put out with them, but you had better leave them alone.
  Although I love the sound of a phone not ringing, I also feel cut off from society. I don't know what to do if  I can't check my email forty times a day, and though I don't spend much time on Facebook, I like knowing it's there.
  It frightens me to see the glazed look in every ones eyes. The children walking around with limp thumbs,unable to text, and being forced to actually speak, is alarming.
 How can this road crew, these cruel careless bastards, expect us to survive without our technology. We are Human Beings... sort of, and we will not stand for this!

The Ides Of March, or, Does This Dagger Match My Shoes?

  You know how you go along thinking things are good, in fact great, and never even feel that knife in your back?  Then, when someone points it out, it hurts like hell. You think, hey, I must have done something to deserve this, but you can't figure out what. Then, it's like you're in high school again, only, Becky didn't pass you that note in gym to let you know you were being libeled. You are angry, but mostly your feelings are hurt. You realize not everyone is your friend, and there is no reason why they should be. So you close yourself off, leave them to their own fate. Years later, Cindy's husband gets caught sleeping around, Pattie's 15 year old is pregnant and Connie's son is gay, not that there's anything wrong with that. But, you don't feel vindicated. Your heart breaks for them, and you pray they find healing. That's the knife twisting. You can't hate even when you should.
  There was a Bob Dylan song in the 80's that said, "If you want someone you can trust, trust yourself." I think he had something there. Being paranoid doesn't mean people are not out to get you. If Lincoln had been a little more paranoid, maybe he could have finished the play. Or better yet, stayed in and read a good book.
 

Random Stuff I'm Thinking About Today

 Yesterday, Jon and I were watching an old black and white movie, I think it was called The Glass Key. In the beginning of the movie, the gangster type guy was saying something derogatory about another person and Veronica Lake walk right up, slapped him on the face and said he should be ashamed of himself. Veronica Lake was a tiny little thing, but the gangster backed down and truly seemed ashamed. Today she would have been arrested, taken to court, charged with abuse, battery and violating the gangsters civil rights. But I believe the world would be a better place if you had to think about what you were saying for fear of being slapped.
 There was a man in the grocery store, the other day, screaming the F word to someone on his cell phone for all to hear. That man needed to be slapped. There would be no rap songs about killing cops, violating women and using the "F" word if someone slapped the rapper and made him ashamed of himself. We need more slappers in this world.
  OK, before someone gets offended, I must say I have nothing against Rap. It's not music, but if you like it it's OK.
  On the subject of music, Etta James died Friday. I started listening to her music a very long time ago but didn't know much about her. One article said she was a heroin addict in her early years and it almost killed her career. Her husband spent many years in prison, when she was busted for drugs  and he took the blame saying they were his. That is loyalty. I wondered how many talented musicians, especially black women, spent their lives in prison. It's a terrible shame. She said she started doing heroine because she hung out in jazz clubs with people like Miles Davis and Billie Holiday and wanted to be cool. She thought Billie Holiday's beautiful voice came from shooting heroine. Also, Kieth Richards invited her to tour with the Stones in the 70's, if she could stay clean. I'm not sure if Kieth Richards was clean, but... I'll bet it was a great concert. I think my all time favorite Etta James song would be I'd Rather Go Blind, or maybe Sugar On the Floor.
  I just finished a great book. It was called Whispers From The Ashes. It's a story told by a 12 year old girl in 1955. She lives in Pennsylvania mining country and she is discovering her family history. There is a mine fire that has been burning for 40 years. It was a hard book to put down and I predict it will be a movie some day.
  The wind is blowing 50 to 60 miles an hour today and the sky is brown. I hate wind. I can tolerate ice and snow, but wind makes me want to pull the covers over my head and sleep until tomorrow. It looks like the dust bowl out there today. Why do I live here?
 

Another Top Five

 Happy MLK day.
 I'm so glad for another day off as I am not quite back to normal. I'm told that it could be months before the pain actually subsides. Maybe I can make it on Ibuprofen and ice and not have to be so stoned all the time. Although, being stoned, hungry and glued to the TV did make me feel like a high school girl again. I think my metabolism could take it better back then.
  As much as I write about television, you might think I watch it all the time. That's what I thought, anyway. But last night I was watching the Golden Globes and I had not seen most of the TV shows that were winning awards.  I do watch Modern Family, which won for best sitcom. In fact I DVR it just in case something comes up. In my opinion, it's the funniest sitcom on TV today.
 On a previous awards show, Downton Abbey won best drama or something. I had never heard of it, but it looked interesting so I watched the first season on my Kindle Fire. I loved everything about it. The characters, costumes and story line hooked me. But, why had I never seen Downton Abbey before? I watch PBS, but I had never even seen it advertised.
 Then there were all those mini series I had never heard of. Is it possible they all aired during baseball season, when I was only semi-aware of what else was going on in the world? That has to be it.
 Anyway, that got me thinking about making another list. You know how I love list. Modern Family is a very funny show, as is 30 Rock. Most other sitcoms are too joke driven. They set up every line and you can guess where it's going. And the laugh track just makes it worse. So, I decided to make a list of what I think are the top five funniest lines from old television shows.
 Number 5: Dick Van Dyke was lost in the woods and came upon an old cabin, where he took shelter. He had to kill a large snake and started to throw it out the window, but stopped. He didn't know how long he would be without food so he put the dead snake on the table and said, "That should kill my appetite."
 Number 4: On the old Newhart show, Bob had written a mystery novel and there was a typo that read, it was so quiet, you could hear a pig drop. The towns people didn't realize it was a typo and they all adopted the phrase. I say this sometimes and people look at me like I'm crazy, so maybe you had to be there.
 Number 3: Carol Burnett was playing Scarlett O'Hara.  Rhett was coming to see her and she had nothing to wear so, of course, she pulled the drapes down to make a dress just like in the movie. Only in the Carol Burnett version she left the drapery rod in the dress. When complemented, she said, " I saw it in the window and just had to have it."
 The first time I saw this I laughed until I had tears in my eyes.
 Number 2: This was not really a sitcom, but rather an interview. Johnny Carson was asking Bob Uecker about his baseball days. He said when he was catching he could tell a curve ball from a fast ball in the dark. Johnny asked him how. He held up his hands and made a big circle and said, " a fast ball leaves a whelp about this big."
 Number 1: Mash. Hawkeye and Trapper John are discussing Colonel Flag. Hawkey, "That guys a fruitcake." Trapper, "He has Raisins for eyes."

 I've been down with a pinched nerve in my back for about a week. It's been quite painful but I am getting better. For the last week I have lived on steroids, codeine and television. I think I've gained 20 pounds. Jon says it's all water weight and will come right off as soon as I discontinue the steroids. He has no idea how hungry those little pills have made me. I may be retaining water, but it's more likely I am retaining biscuits and gravy.
  Like I said, I have watched a lot of  television the past week and I have come to a conclusion. After my last post, Dixie Dog made a comment about young girls mixing seasonal clothing. This is something that has always bothered me. I think Uggs are ugly, but may be very warm with jeans on a cold snowy day. But why would one wear them with a mini skirt? Another thing that gets to me is, black stockings with white shoes. I actually have seen this on a soap opera actress this week.
  We used to think of Feral children as being motherless and raised by wolves. Now it seems these Feral girls are being raised by TV stars and other entertainers. And their moms, well, they share a wardrobe. It's sad, really.
  Most of us go through this at some point in our lives. In the third grade, I wanted so much to look like Nancy Sinatra. I wore my white Go Go boots and I used my sisters eyeliner to draw thick black lines across my eyelid, swooshing out to the corners, just like Nancy. Fortunately my mom had the good sense to make me wash it off before school. I got over it and before long I wanted my hair cut in a neat little bob like Barbara Feldon, 99, on Get Smart. Now she was seriously cool.

Adventures in Shopping the Cosmetic Counter

  A man told me the other day, he was packing up his well repair business and moving back to Mexico. He said he couldn't hire good help in this town, that no one wanted to work that hard. I hate to admit it but I know he is right. We are becoming a city full of abandoned buildings. New business' pop up now and then, build or remodel a massive building, only to leave a short time later. It's always the same excuse, mismanaged and lack of good help.
  I see it for myself all the time. Young girls come in to apply for a teller job, wearing shorts and flip flops. Banks have relaxed the dress code a little over the years. Most include jeans on Fridays, but at this point we are still wearing shoes. I have had them approach me while texting, barely look up from their phones and ask for an application. If I tell them we are not hiring, they ask to have an application anyway. I know then it is for their parents, parole officer or social worker. They are not serious about finding a job. Sometimes they even come through the motor bank asking. If they can't get out of the car, again, I know they are not serious. But the real tip off is, if you call them in for an interview and they bring their baby.
 In most cities, you can't walk through a department store without an all out assault from  sales people working the various makeup and perfume counters. In my town's one and only surviving department store, the sales people are invisible. I have stood around for ages waiting for one to appear, before I finally found , or out ran, an "associate".They all want to be called associates or team members these  days, and they call us guest, yet treat us like intruders. 
 Yesterday, I was in this store and happened to find a young girl standing behind the counter at the particular brand of cosmetics I was looking for. Actually, I was looking for spot remover. Buying makeup used to make me feel pretty and feminine. These days I buy primers and spot remover and I feel like I'm in a hardware store. I saw a new product the other day called spackling. It was for filling in lines. Anyway, I approached this girl and she looked terrified. She was wide eyed and breathing heavily, and I thought I could hear her heart beating. Our conversation went like this.
 Me: It's OK, I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to purchase one of your products.
 Sales girl: total silence.
 Me: I have seen the Spot Corrector on television and thought I might try it.
 Sales Girl: still, nothing to say.
 Me: You know, it's for removing brown spots from being in the sun too much.
 Sales Girl: What is it?
 Me: Look, I have both hands on the counter. Again, I am not going to hurt you. Turn around and you will see a very large sign. It says Clinique Even Better Spot Corrector. That is what I want to try.
 Sales Girl: Oh. What size?
 Me: What are the sizes?
 Sales Girl: Small and large.
 Me: How much do they cost?
 Sales Girl: Small is 43.00 and the large is 75.00.
 Me: Good Lord! Does it work?
 Sales Girl: I guess.
 Stupid Me: Here's my debit card. I'll take the small.
 Sales Girl, suddenly smiling: Would you like to apply for our in store credit card?
 Completely Baffled Me: No, I don't think I'll be back.

Sheila Rants

  It is day four of the new year and time to make some list. Don't you just love list? I can be reading the most boring article, then find it contains a list and I perk right up. My first list will be all the things I grew tired of hearing seeing and reading in 2011.
 Number one on my list, anything or anyone Kardashian. I don't know who these people are, or why they are famous, but I am sick to death of hearing about them. So, please, no more Kardashians. It's not news.
 On those same lines, Lindsey Lohan. I have to tell you, I love Mean Girls. I watch it every time it's on TV. But, I don't care to hear about this girls sad, pathetic life. Leave her alone and maybe she will get better. We are not doing her any favors by making her think the world revolves around her.
 Number three, Adele. I remember driving home from Oklahoma in my 350Z my husband had just bought me when I heard Rolling In The Deep for the first time. I don't know, maybe it was because I was so pumped about the car, or because I could only pick up top 40 radio, but I thought that was a great song. The thing is, I only had to hear it, maybe five more times before I was so completely tired of it, and by the time it had played all summer long I could have screamed. Now, all anyone can talk about is Adele and how great her CD is. Really, it's not that good. Occasionally we go through dry spells in new music and people get excited about anything different from what they have been hearing. This explains the "Hair" bands of the 80's and 90's.
 Fourth on my list is "Baby Bump". Why do pregnant celebrities act like they invented child birth?
  Fifth, please, oh please, bring back maternity clothes. At first it was fat women and 15 year old girls who wore their tight pre pregnancy clothes, but now everyone does it. I was shunned for breast feeding my babies in a public, with a blanket covering everything, I might add, but now it's OK for you to flaunt your huge belly and protruding navel! Do you know how bad this looks?
 Sixth, reality shows about anything. The only reason the networks keep pumping this trash out is because they are cheap to make. Entertain me, show me something unreal. Something I can laugh at without feeling guilty and let me cry knowing there's no real tragedy and everyone is OK. If I want reality I will watch the news.
  Seven, picking on BABIES! What is this all about? Babies are the brunt of jokes on several commercials and TV shows. Now that I've brought it to your attention, I'm sure you will see what I mean.
 Eight, the phrase don't be hattin'. If you can not form a proper sentence, don't be talking.
 Well, I'm sure I will think of something else to complain about, but for now this is it. Hope I didn't step on any toes.

 Happy New Year!
 I can't believe it's 2012. Twelve years ago today we were expecting major mayhem and chaos as we faced a collective crashing of the worlds computers. I was working for a large bank at the time, and remember preparing for disaster for an entire year. We had everything from emergency generators to small hand held flashlights, which we were required to check the batteries on a weekly basis. That New Years morning it was my responsibility to drive through the wreckage and carnage, step over the bodies entering the bank, fire up all the computers and call Arizona, if we had phones, to report our losses. What I did was, stop for coffee, smile and wish everyone I came in contact with a happy new year, walk in the bank, turn on the computers, call Arizona and visit at length with the poor slob on the other end who also had to go into work on New Years morning. Then I went home, took some aspirin and went back to bed. Aw, memories.
 Now this year, 2012, some folks are saying we are once again facing the end of the world. Apparently, some ancient Mayan tribe created a calender that ends on December 21, 2012. Is it maybe possible, these Mayans got tired of carving dates in stone and said, "My hand hurts and I think this is a good place to stop."? Why do we always give these people so much credit?  Also, if there are people living on other planets, why do we assume their world is so advanced? We believe they are super intelligent and want to take over our planet because we are all too stupid to live.
 Remember when those two snipers were shooting people around Maryland and D C? The press talked about these guys like they had some greater agenda and were so smart the police would never catch them. It turned out, they were two guys with a third grade education who liked killing people. I'm getting off the subject, if there is one, so I should stop here before I tell you all my problems with the whole Zombie thing. Like, why are they so slow, and why don't they wipe there mouths after they eat? And why do some folks think Romney would be a good president?
  Well here are my resolutions for 2012.
 I will try as many new wines as I can.
 I will clean up my DVR. I'll never have time to watch all those episodes of Psych.
 I will watch every Rangers game I can.
 I will cease to criticize C J Wilson, since he will be pitching for the Angels and is no longer our problem.
 If C J turns out to be a good pitcher for the Angels, I will be on his case once again.
 I will take Mia to puppy school in hopes that she will be easier to live with.
  That's about it. Anything else and I would just be setting myself up for failure.

 Hope this is a great year for everyone.