Saturday, September 15, 2012
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Thursday, February 9, 2012
It's been a really long time since I felt that I could blog anything. My family is my life and they would resent it, if I were to tell all the things I think or feel. I know even in my everyday chit chat, I am often misunderstood. I am always motivated by love, but somewhere between my brain and my lips there comes a disconnect. I am left babbling and hoping to explain the errant comment. But today, I am thinking that perhaps I should move to an undisclosed location and write my heart out. My original intention was to leave a blog of my thoughts so my children would have an insight into the minds of their parents. That is just not happening, so I am moved talk about my feelings on being old...possibly even close to dying. As a born again Christian, I should be longing to be with The Lord in Heaven, but as a woman who was young just a few days ago....I want to stay and see my children and grands happily married and in family relationships before I go. I, also, have too many quilts cut up and piles of fabrics awaiting my sewing machine and my creative juices. My other half just had a really big birthday, which brought to mind the fact that life is short and like a roll of toilet tissue, goes faster the closer you get to the end.
The recent loss of one of my favorite bloggers reminds me that fleeting time will find me unaware and I might be caught in the despair of loss. I read Empress Bee's thoughts on the day Sarge Charlie was laid to rest and was amazed by how succinctly she expressed the unwillingness to acknowledge to yourself that your loved one is gone from this Earthly life. Allowing yourself to believe it would mean that it is true and that hurts too much to be conceived. My husband of fifty-eight years and I have nibbled around the edges of grief over our lack of future, but like Miss Bee, don't want to come to grips with deep thoughts.
It is so hard to get old, when your mind is still hanging around back in your thirties or fifties, but time marches on and eventually we get tired of marching and sprawl in front of the T.V. or sit lazily at the computer. Our church has decided that we are saved and no longer need to worship in ways that are meaningful and comforting to us. They have gone on to impress the youth with drums, guitars and stage productions to lure young people. Large churches have formulated worship programs to compete with a Red Hot Chili Peppers Concert. Our youngsters love it, but they go away to college and we are left in the pews awaiting the next ploy to attract another generation. Meanwhile, our pleas for a hymn here or there fall on deaf ears....perhaps they can't hear us over the sound system.
Restaurants that have been mainstays in our lives for years are suddenly ripping out their decor and trying to get a "modern update" to appeal to a younger group. I have news for them....if business is slow, it is because we are in a recession, not because their walls need to be painted mustard and puce. When the economy picks up, their business will pick up, but they will be out the money it took to update the place. This older generation has been patronizing them all along without the benefit of some up and coming dude deciding that a face lift is the answer. I mean, golly, have you noticed that McDonald's is even changing the fronts of their stores? Will the Golden Arches become fallen arches?
I think I am trying to say to the world....Please don't be so obvious in your desire to be done with us. President Obama's Health Care will not allow brain surgery to relieve a brain bleed if you are over seventy. Cancer will not be treated if you are over seventy, but will be given comfort measures. Yea, bring on the Morphine. Once we are in a drug induced haze, pull the plug, let us go and then hold a rousing church service with old hymns which have had their melodies changed.
Perhaps, we should start telling people how much we admire and love them, before they are gone and we are left without their presence in our lives. Ronald Reagan left the office of President of the United States in 1989. He was seventy-eight years old and one of our greatest presidents, Some people still have value in their golden years, but we won't necessarily know who they are until they have left the building.
Monday, August 1, 2011
My grandson and his wife are expecting this month. At Christmas, they told us that a boy was coming their way. By Spring, it mysteriously turned into a baby girl, so here are the baby boy quilt that just got added to my cupboard of coming attractions and the baby girl quilt for my very first great-grandchild. I love quilting, butmy fingers are full of tiny little holes from a couple of months of heavy duty quilting.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
Patient Iteration of the Message
The Foundation's website (www.forbetterlife.org) contains several subpages linked off the home page. They are "Values," "Good News," "TV Spots," "Billboards" and "About FBL " (a generic mission statement). Clicking on "Values" brings up a page in which a facsimile of a continuous celluloid film strip (in frames) is exhibited; each miniature image frame (over a scroll bar) is captioned with a "value." (There are fifty-two "values," mirroring the number of cards in a typical deck). Typical value captions over the visuals are "Appreciation," "Class and Grace," "Compassion," "Cooperation," "Gratitude," "Hard Work," "Loyalty," "Right Choices," etc. When the web surfer clicks on a caption or its associated image, the graphic (Flash) opens into a new screen. The new screen displays a larger iconic image originally seen in the filmstrip frame. (Many of them are reminiscent of psychological projective test imagery). Then a short story on the selected "value" comes to the fore, such as the of the one below (graphically composed with an image of a son and father fishing on a small boat):
My fondest memory of my Dad occurred one summer day out in the middle of a mountain lake. "Don't jerk it. Just reel it in real slow," my father whispered. But it was so difficult. I hated to wait for anything. I usually took forever to decide what I really wanted, but once I decided, I wanted it right now. And right now I wanted to catch a fish.
My father seemed to sense my impatience. "The big ones didn't get that way by snapping the first thing to hit the water," he said quietly. "You'll soon find that anything big and worthwhile usually takes a lot of time." Then, with a smile that I will never forget, he added, "After all, I've already spent twelve years on you."
"The values we live by are worth more when we pass them on . . . 
The phrase, "pass it on" (as a linked icon) surrounds the story on three sides, as it does for almost all of the fifty-two parables of values on the site. This perpetually repeated suggestion to "pass it on" finds an echo in a famous 1928 essay on propaganda:
Winning people over to something that I have recognized as right, that is what we call propaganda. Propaganda stands between the idea and the worldview, between the worldview and the state . . . At the moment at which I recognize something is important and begin speaking about it . . . I begin making propaganda. At the same moment, I begin looking for other people to join me. Propaganda is nothing other than the forerunner to organization. Once it has done this, it is the forerunner to state control. It is always a means to an end.
The narrative that surrounds this particular "virtue" of patience also unintentionally announces pieces of the methodology and tactics of the Foundation's campaign: These general tactics are patience, and repetition and iterative spread of the message ("pass it on"). This constant exhortation mirrors Goebbels' statement that such "clear" ideas "seek escape through the mouth." But the similarities between the FBL's campaign and Goebbels' ideas doesn't end with these general prescriptions:
Targeting the Message to Multiple Audiences
Propaganda adjusts itself to the prevailing conditions [and] is always flexible. That means that propaganda cannot be limited [because] it changes according to whom I am trying to reach. Propaganda should be popular, but not intellectually pleasing . . . The propagandist's speeches or posters that are aimed at farmers will be different than those aimed at employers, those aimed at doctors will be different than those aimed at patients. . The task of leaders and followers is to drive [our] knowledge ever deeper into the hearts of our shattered nation. 
This flexibility is mirrored by the diversity of deeply aestheticized and idealized racial, ethnic and class images, coupled to equally idealized narratives, targeted to different audiences on the Foundation's values sub page. As Guillermo Gomez-Pena notes, they clearly echo
a 'benevolent' form of multiculturalism [that] has been adopted by corporations and media conglomerates across borders, continents and virtual spaces. And our major cultural and educational institutions have followed suit. This global transculture artificially softens the otherwise sharp edges of cultural difference, fetishizing them in such a way as to render them desirable. 
And, as Gomez-Pena laments, the propagandists of this "new" capitalist multiculturalism have outsmarted "us" by so cleverly disguising the serious social contradictions and covert violence under the surfaces of these images and intended messages. It is equally obvious that the Foundation's hired and pro bono spin meisters have also learned from them. The Foundation appropriated, in the billboard portion of the campaign, some of the best recognized and diverse icons of 20th Century and contemporary millennial culture: Winston Churchill and Shaquille O'Neill; Mother Teresa and Whoopi Goldberg; Abraham Lincoln and Muhammad Ali; the 1989 photo of an anonymous Chinese student trying to halt a line of tanks into Tiananmen Square and hockey great Wayne Gretzky. In some of these, historical images of defiance to a repressive state apparatus (Tinanamen Square, Ali's refusal of the Vietnam-era draft, for example) are recoded as embodying consensual, conventional and "prosocial" values. The recoding of icons (the reframing, and often the inversion, of denotative and connotative meanings) is a constant, even a defining feature of the Foundation's website. But beneath the inscription of structural-functionalist themes onto postmodern life lies a genealogy of money, and power.
Thursday, November 18, 2010
Ten months ago, I wrote a piece
about something I had noted
about television "service spots" from "The Foundation for a Better Life". I couldn't figure out who or what would be paying for these innocuous, sweet little spots.....virtual pieces of fluff without any real need for their message. It really puzzled me and I wrote this:
"My husband was walking out the door today and the television was playing that public service announcement about the big, burly hockey player singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" to his little girl on phone, as his teammates laughed along. My husband said, "I like this one." Then, I thought about the one I like.... the little boy playing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" with a concert pianist assisting in front of a large audience. There is also one about a Downs Syndrome teen being elected Home Coming Queen. A little voice niggled about in my pea sized brain....Who or what is "The Foundation for a Better Life"? I've been wondering who would want to pay for these lovely little blurbs every day and what would they expect to get out of it? What group could be financing this? So, I Googled it and found this:
Oh, holy cow! Here we go again! This is something everyone better try very hard to understand, because it is another threat to our way of life and it is being put to us in such a lovely way that we will be buried from within....without murmuring a peep. Imagine that I have only begun to wonder about this and it has been organized and orchestrated since 2002, at least. We are sheep being led to the slaughter. God help us!"
Well, that was last January and since then, I have packed up in Florida and unpacked in Ohio and both of us have had lots of medical and dental care from our home doctors. I haven't blogged or accomplished much of anything, but now we have packed up and driven back to Florida. I'm actually looking at the television again, instead of just listening to it. Those sweet little service announcements are continuing, but now, while they remain from "The Foundation for a Better Life", we are being directed to:
Please look at the differences between these two sites and tell me that there is not some hidden agenda to draw us into a sinister web that will change our entire way of life without our knowing what hit us. It is odd that fascism and radical change is no longer mentioned at the new site, just sweet, airy values. There are even spots for school faculties to go and find ways to subvert our kids! Help! I wish someone of importance would look into this campaign and do something more than one little old lady can accomplish with a few words.
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Thursday, June 3, 2010
My husband and I went to Toledo Memorial Park in Sylvania, Ohio to visit the final resting place of our parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, a niece, a nephew and one of our granddaughters. It is a beautiful cemetary....lush grass, beautiful trees and peaceful quiet. When I was young, the pond in the middle of the park had graceful swans swimming about through the warm summers. While we were there this Memorial Day Weekend, I was awed by the rows upon rows of American Flags throughout acres of gravestones and markers. I thought that VFW Posts had veterans placing the flags at the graves of the military, but then I saw this video from a local TV station. The students they talked about are from the high school that my husband, my children and I had attended many years ago. Whitmer High School is in Toledo, Ohio, not Sylvania. We are very proud of the social studies department and the students , who honored our military. They are wonderful representatives of the youngest generatiion. God Bless them.
Students, veterans team up to place Memorial Day flags: "Whitmer High School teamed up with the American Legion Post 587 to place American flags at Toledo Memorial Cemetary."
Saturday, May 1, 2010
Friday, March 26, 2010
Finally, I have finished my flip flop wall quilt. I removed the original fabric border....it was bright and fun, but just wasn't the right fabric. Then I found this Batik fabric that looked like watery bubbles and knew it was the right one. Quilters are a funny breed of people. We love fabric, all fabric, but don't always make the right decision the first time in the store. We go back again and again and buy more and more, until finally the right thing falls into our outstretched arms. Actually, I never met a quilt store that I didn't like. I want it all....so much to do and so little time!
So, I sandwiched the top piece, the batting and the backing and began to quilt around the flip flops in close lines to simulate the ripples you make as you step into the water. I thought the background fabric for the flip flops looked like sand on a beach somewhere. It was definitely not Florida white sand, but dirt somewhere.
What came next was a natural.
If I had beach, flip flops and an ocean...then I needed schools of fish in the water. Can you see the fish swimming along in the bubbles? They have tiny little glass bead eyes. It is finally done, because we have Net Flix and I can hand quilt while I watch chick flicks with "My Honey". When we get a guy
"blood and guts" movie, I head for the sewing machine, since I have female sensitivities and can't watch tough stuff. I am so happy that "My Honey" loves Sandra Bullock movies!
P. S. I just discovered that you can left click on the pictures and actually biggify my quilty fishes enough to see their little beady eyes. Woo Hoo!
Thursday, March 25, 2010
The months seem to fly by when we are in Florida and I have very little to show for time spent. I read, follow my friend's blogs, sleep and occasionally sew. January was spent making this queen sized quilt, two pillowcases and two pillow shams, but I am going to take them to Ohio for my favorite long arm quilter to finish. If you notice the color scheme, then you will know that I made this one with my number two grandson in mind. He is in his fifth year with the Air Force and this seems apropos.
This year, we were struck by the astounding bargains in the real estate market, so we started snooping around with an eye toward finding a bargain for our son-in-law (who is able to retire from law enforcement at a young age). Turns out our daughter is not ready to make a move to Florida, so we somehow got carried away and made an offer for a really neat four bedroom home in Punta Gorda. Our whole Winter has been lost in the scramble to fill out the proper papers, show the proper money and since the end of January, we have been at the mercy of that miserable bank known fondly as "Bank of America". They are loaded with "short sale" homes here in the land of distress and sunshine. Since the government had bailed them out of their misery last year, we thought they would be happy to find a couple with some cash in their hot little hands who would take one of their losers off their books. They have six more days on our contract (they asked for an extension) and have not been in touch with the good news. I have been to Home Depot and picked out new tile, crown mouldings, light fixtures, but still don't know if we own anything. It is a new home, but needs some upgrades to make me happy. If everything goes through, we will drive home to Ohio and sell our condo there and then move to Florida as residents instead of snowbirds. All this has taken two months of our pitifully short lives, so we are noticeably anxious to get the show on the road. We need to see about having a pool put in and all sorts of things done, but instead of living our lives, we are waiting on the bench like third stringers.
Here I am with no excuse for not blogging and not much production from my sewing machine. I did finish a cute wall hanging (hand quilting) for a good friend, but I have to take pictures of it and get them posted. Instead, I have been so frustrated by the government escapades that I cannot blog without ranting. Forgive me, friends. I need to get back to what is important.... I want my children and grandchildren to know what I was all about when I am long gone.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Please, help me understand what is happening in the world. The husband and I have been stunned by the things we have seen coming to fruition recently. This last year has amazed us with the very swiftness of the Progressive Movement's grasp on our country's government. Having complacently sat back for
lo these many years and watched life breezing by in a most comfortable fashion, I am ashamed to say that we have been slowly awakened (the veritable sleeping giant) over the last twelve months by blatant and forceful programs coming out of Washington. The Stimulus Packages have cost billions. Have they actually produced any jobs or have they just spent our tax money to line politicians' re-election pockets? The Cap and Trade thing....will it completely kill our Capitalist form of society and tax us, our children and grandchildren beyond any imagined level? The push for a Green Initiative for the sake of "Global Warming"....has anyone noticed that we are having the worst cold weather on record? Does anyone know that GE is a big part of the current administration and that they own the patent for the nifty little mercury light bulbs which will become the bulb de rigueur next year, driving the little incandescent bulb makers out of business in the USA, thereby allowing GE to make the new bulbs in China?
These are just a few of the things we have watched coming down the Pike, since we were children, in little bits and pieces. The bits were such minor little things that we barely noticed as more bits were added and changed until we no longer recognized the danger to our way of life.
Today, the husband went off to play golf.... the first time in many days, as we have been freezing our behinds in southern Florida. Don't tell me that it is not fair for one man to play golf when the masses cannot play. He started working and paying Social Security Taxes at eleven years old, when he became a golf caddy for a dime a round. He worked and paid the upper amount of social security taxes for sixty-three years. I even heard Rush Limbaugh talk about senior citizens not paying for Medicare last week. Allow me to enlighten you about that. We paid health insurance our whole married life until he retired at seventy-four. In the beginning, Blue Cross paid only 80% for hospital visits and Blue Shield paid only 80% for surgical visits in the hospital. We paid for ordinary doctor's visits. Our children were paid for at $10.00 a month during prenatal visits. If you had paid the whole $90.00 by the birth, the price was $90.00 or $100.00 for a boy. (We all know why) Insurance didn't pay for birth or any other ordinary medical treatment. We have never had dental or prescription coverage, until Medicare came along. There still is no dental coverage and the Rx thing is a laugh. Between the two of us, Medicare takes $280.00 a month from our Social Security and our secondary insurance is $400.00 a month. Okay, $680.00 every month----does that sound like we are getting something for free? The husband is now seventy-eight and gets to play golf once or twice a week after being an upright citizen and raising three law abiding, tax paying children. Why would the government want to redistribute the little amount we have saved for our old age ?
Finally, I'm going to get to the problem today!!!! The husband was walking out the door and the TV was playing that Public Service Announcement about the big, burly hockey player singing "Itsy Bitsy Spider" to his little girl, while his teammates laughed along. The husband said , "I like this one." I thought about the one I like....the little boy playing "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" with a concert pianist in front of a large audience. There is also one about a Down's Syndrome teen being elected Homecoming Queen. Then, I voiced something that had been niggling about in my pea sized brain....Who or What is "The Foundation for a Better Life"? I've been wondering who would want to pay for these lovely little blurbs every day and what do they expect to get out of it? So, I Goggled it and found this;
Oh, holy cow! Here we go again! This is something everyone better try very hard to understand, because it is another threat to our very way of life and it is being put to us in such a lovely way that we will be buried from within....without murmuring a peep. Imagine that I have only begun to wonder about this and it has been organized and orchestrated since 2002. We are sheep being led to the slaughter. God help us!
Monday, December 21, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Thursday, October 1, 2009
When you approach the end of life, time is a most precious commodity. Since we drive back and forth between Ohio and Florida, I waste entirely too much time in the comings and goings. We arrived back in Ohio in the middle of May and settled in for a summer of seeing all the assorted and sundry doctors who make it possible for us to stay alive through five or six months in Florida. Now it is time to reverse the process and the docs are getting serious about tests and prescriptions. I saw the ophthalmologist on Tuesday for a vision check. I only wear glasses for reading, but eventually you do need a checkup. So, I am scheduled for a cataract surgery with lens implant next Tuesday. It will only hold us up for about three weeks, but sheesh! You would think that they could give you appointments in June or July, so they can mess with whatever parts they are interested in messing with before Medicare stops paying them.
I digress. It was my intention to make eleven king sized quilts before I die, so my children and grandchildren will remember me when I am long gone. A super quilt teacher once told me, "Quilts are meant to keep people you love warm". Now, that is cool. I had four quilts pieced and ready to go to a professional quilter, when I came home and one huge quilt that had been hanging around for a long time. It originally was intended for my older brother and after it was pieced, sandwiched and mostly hand quilted (that makes it valuable)....he died! I put it away and it was hard to get it going again, plus the border was almost impossible to mark until someone told me to use masking tape for the cross hatching. By the time I finished it and attached the binding, my fingers were bloody. One of the biggest problems for quilters is the inability to say no when a particularly beautiful fabric calls your name like the Sirens who call the young sailors with their illusions. Well, the quilt at the top called to me this summer and I couldn't stop until I had gathered many half yards of Batiks, sliced them apart and then sewed them back together. I have enough for my children finally, but I also have fabric going to Florida for three or four more. I am hopeless!
Between the doctors, quilts and Ancestry.com, I have not posted one word for many a day. I read my favorites and love the bloggers, so I think I will start working on my blog again. Here's hoping that you haven't forgotten me.
Friday, August 7, 2009
I have spent the summer in a blue funk... watching T.V. and watching Congress pass legislation without reading the bills or knowing what a mess the outcome would be. I feel so helpless and unimportant. They are on vacation now, so the danger of America circling the drain is avoided for another month. I found this quote today....
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Just had to tell you what I heard in church this morning.
A rich banker died and met St. Peter at The Pearly Gates, dragging a large, heavy suitcase behind him.
St. Peter says, "Go right on in, but you don't need the bag."
The banker says, "Oh, I have to bring the bag!"
St. Peter says, "What's in the bag that's so important?"
The banker opens the bag and it is full of gold bars!
St. Peter says, "You brought PAVEMENT?"
Saturday, May 30, 2009
You just have to go see this short video. I'd put it up here, but I am technically challenged. Anyway, I loved it and I just love babies!
Okay, now that being said, I have another thought to share with y'all. "My Honey" and I went to the professional quilter to have a bunch of quilt tops quilted. I had been fairly prolific while in Florida during the winter and will never have enough time in this world to get them quilted, so over the river and through the woods to Lisa's house we went.
Along the winding Maumee River Road was a beautiful parcel of land that had been occupied as The Children's Services Board for many, many years. The social workers handled difficult family problems, orphans and housed children who were too physically handicapped to be cared for in their own homes. Our little granddaughter, Courtney, lived there for about a year while awaiting a bed in The Sunshine Home. She had been born missing most of her brain and was expected to live about two years. My daughter and son-in-law cared for her at home for five years through seizures, vomiting nightly while being fed by the machine, surgeries and hospitalizations. Friends and family learned to do infant CPR, handle Apnea machines, G-tube feedings and many other nursing procedures, so our daughter and her husband could both work to pay her medical bills. They lived with us for about eighteen months to save money for a house and gain another nurse to help with Courtney. We even learned to change her G-tube at home....I would pull out the old one, the baby would cry and hold her breath...then pass out and my daughter would pop in the new one. Life was not easy. To our knowledge, she could not see or hear, roll over or sit up. She had to be fed with an eye dropper until they put in the G-tube and then she was fed by a machine for the next nine years until God took her home. The people in this ICU took marvelous care of her in the old fashioned brick buildings. The acreage was a beautiful place to visit along the river. Then the city became typical hogs and decided that they needed that property to build condos and make money for their bloated coffers. So in a snap of their fingers, this beautiful setting for the handicapped children, the orphans and the parents of troubled teens... the city usurped the property and it was bulldozed for
the almighty buck progress. To heck with the children!
Toledo is now in a downward spiral as an automotive adjunct to Detroit and that property along the river is sitting there with a few big, fat cat houses, but most is going begging for want of rich folks to purchase lots with a fantastic view. Somehow, it really bothers me when an institution that did so much good has been taken over and forgotten.... except for the occasional grandmother, who happens along the road and remembers how wonderful it was for her little granddaughter.
June 1, 2009---Addendum
Today, Courtney would have been twenty-five. We put a tiny pot of pink roses on her grave. No child ever lives in vain. We learned a great deal about love and the value of life from her.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
This is a rerun of my Mother's Day Post from 2007. I still feel exactly the same way about my children, so here we go again! We are packing to go home to Ohio and I have not been well, so even the blog gets short shrift. Sorry, but I love all my fellow bloggers.....
Happy Mother's Day to Mom, the original seat belt!
I think motherhood started for me when I was about ten or eleven and our neighbor had a baby boy. I was allowed to play with him on a blanket in their backyard while my Mom chatted with the new mother.
I fell in love with the smell, feel, touch, the enchanting smiles and the cuddly little body of any baby. Little girls are pre-programmed to desire babies in their lives. Shortly after marrying at seventeen, my mind turned to thoughts of having my very own baby to cuddle and smell and love. Luckily, God knew that we were not ready financially for parenthood. He made me wait until I was twenty-one, before He felt I could be trusted with an infant of my own. I couldn't believe it when after all those months and years of trying, I finally knew I was pregnant.
Every since that very first day, when I knew there was a baby coming to our home, I have been the most blessed of all creation --- a mother. If there is to be a special day --- it should be a day for rejoicing in the fact that God has seen fit to give us children to raise and love and then set free.
This is a picture of me with my first child when she was two years and six weeks old. My second child was only six weeks old and I was six weeks away from getting pregnant with my third. How ironic that after almost four years without children, we had three in less than three years. Motherhood has been a joy every step of the way and I am still thanking God for the children he sent my way almost fifty years ago. I love you Lesley, Matthew and Stacey and the ten children you have brought into my life in the last twenty-seven years. The pastor praised moms in church this morning, but it is we who should be thanking God for the privilege He has given to us. I cannot imagine a life without my children. To quote Ben Folds, " I Am the Luckiest!"
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
"Bail Em Out!??? Heck, back in 1990, the Government seized the Mustang Ranch Brothel in Nevada for tax evasion and, as required by law, tried to run it. They failed and it closed. Now, we are trusting the economy of our country, our banking system, our insurance companies, the automobile industry and whatever other thing they decide to grab to the same nit-wits, who couldn't make money running a whore house and selling whiskey! Wake up America....we are in terrible trouble and getting in deeper each day!"
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
Monday, March 23, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Lately, I've been ruminating on some of the blogs I read that are written by medical people. There are nurses, doctors, pharmacists, EMT's, ER techs, secretaries and probably housekeeping, for all I know. For some reason, the majority of sites that I have visited have writers who are pretty snarky and sometimes amazingly clever in their turn of a phrase. One particular pharmacist has a palpable hate for "golden oldies", and he seems to have it in for anyone who receives Social Security. Do we all throw the switch on our intellect the day we turn in our key to the executive washroom? There could be reasons why his customers don't understand every ramification of Medicare Part D, since the whole thing was written to deliberately obfuscate the whole plan. Couldn't Congress have written the damn plan in language not requiring an Doctorate of Jurisprudence to decode it?
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Valentine's Day to all the folks in bloggityville! I have always let my darling husband off the hook for this holiday, because I feel that it is a plague on the backs of men everywhere. Why are they expected to spring for a "Pajama Gram", teddy bear or long stem roses? What makes this a special day for women only? The TV ads make me feel so sorry for the guys. I think all Valentine gifts should be something that can be enjoyed by two....like, uh, perhaps a great dinner out, a fine bottle of wine or a great box of chocolates. I think my aversion to the gift part is because I have always mentally reserved the day for my memories of my Dad. When we were young, Dad would come home with a big box of Fanny Farmer Chocolates for my Mom and little boxes for his three girls. After we married, our boxes got bigger and our daughters were the recipients of the little red heart boxes. Each year he made the trip to the candy store and then drove about town passing out the boxes that said, "Dad loves me! " This was a man of unique intelligence, who was the epitome of the absent-minded professor. I don't think he actually knew when Christmas or Easter was due, but he knew about Valentine's Day and I would never give that memory away to any one else. I love my husband every day, so he doesn't have to shell out the big bucks for any card company holiday. Today, we met our kids at the local Panera's for lunch (something I really love...the kids, not Panera's...well, I do like it). My daughter-in -law told me about a little ritual that is carried out in their home. Many years ago, my son came home on Valentine's Day with a big bouquet of flowers for her, but as he walked into the house, their little girl said, "Oh, Daddy... you brought me flowers!" He bowed and presented them to her with a wink to his wife. Ever since that time, he has brought Lacey flowers on Valentine's Day. It is so like my Dad with his candy ritual, that I could cry. This is something that is beyond the commercial bit and gets right to the heart of things. But, then....who wouldn't adore this child? She was six when I took her to "Glamour Shots" and we had a wonderful day. She will be eighteen soon, but I'm not into publishing pictures that would identify her to the public at large. She is a beauty and is very well guarded by three older brothers.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Some days you feel like a nut, some days you don't!
For the last couple of weeks, I have felt like t he face on the right. (Blah or worse.) Unfortunately, I am in Florida and my doctors are in Ohio. We have been unable to find a doctor in Fort Myers, who actually wants to take care of "snowbirds". Last year, we discovered that we could drive up I-41, otherwise known as Tamiami Trail and there find a group of wonderful doctors, known as Port Charlotte Urgent Care. We stopped there the day after Christmas and were sent to The Peace River Hospital. It was something as simple as indigestion, but by this age, I have had an esophageal fundoplication (the top of your stomach is wrapped around the bottom of your esophagus to keep your stomach from sliding up into your chest cavity). Also, I had a celiac stent placed in the artery that goes from your aorta to your liver. These two things tend to confuse the issue with ordinary doctors. The hospital sent me to a nice Arabic doctor who ordered CAT scans of my chest and my abdominal cavity . Then, he promptly left town for several days. By last Saturday night, I was rolling in agony and went back up the road to the hospital and the ER doc decided that my EKG had radical changes since the 26th and he plopped my butt directly into a hospital bed and called a cardiologist. This guy was a doll with a no nonsense attitude and he transported me to a Regional Hospital where they are equipped to handle heart problems. I actually got my first ride in an ambulance. He did a cardiac cath on Monday with two stents and sent me home to recover. Now, we come to the crux of my problems....why the heck do I have indigestion? The endoscopy surgeon hasn't shown up in my life (he is entertaining out of town company), the admitting doctor followed my medicine list directly from my computer history *( he doesn't know me from Adam or Eve) and the cardiologist has placed two stents in my heart preventing anyone else from doing any procedures that would help my indigestion.
One other piece of info.... I got home on Tuesday and people we are acquainted with from home came by and bought our place here in Ft. Myers, so I suppose I'll go home and see my "real" doctors. In the meantime.... if you are a medical blogger... please stop by and tell me what the heck I should do....short of dying. My birthday was Wednesday and I would like to go out and celebrate with something a bit tastier than Jello or applesauce!
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
We are among the lucky ones, who have missed all the snow and ice in our hometown in Ohio. While it hasn't been as hot as usual in Ft. Myers, Florida, it has been nice and the skies have been blue with fleecy white clouds. We have been here for two and a half months and "the husband" wanted to drive home to see the kids, but the weather has not let up for enough hours for us to make the drive. We can make it in nineteen hours, but the older we get.... the harder the drive becomes. I have not blogged for three weeks, because I have been working on quilts in an effort to compile a stack for my children and grandchildren. Also, some are just for the fun of it. I have fabric in waiting for a couple of queen/king quilts, but am punishing myself by waiting until I have cleared the decks of "in the works projects". I just finished quilting (by hand) a top that was pieced by my husband's grandmother in the 1940's. The fabrics were from feed sacks and are not particularly pretty and the workmanship was not the greatest, but it will be wonderful to leave to my daughter, who is also an avid quilt addict. Not too bad, now that it is done. It took more than a month of quilting every night while we watched T.V. and my fingers had multiple holes from the needles pricking them as I felt the underside of the quilt to know when the stitch was through and ready to return to the top. How can we ever think this is fun?
The next one is a little wall quilt for the porch here in Florida. It was such fun piecing it, but I haven't quilted it, yet. The fabrics are all sort of crazy , but then...so am I....Works for me! I had a quilting teacher who said, "Quilts are meant to keep people you love warm". Isn't that a lovely thought? So, why do I waste time on silly little wall hangings? Probably, because I can't resist the fabrics that are such fun to play with today. I feel sorry that Grandma never had such choices when she was young.
The quilt top on the right is huge and is finally ready to be quilted. I think I will take it to a long-arm professional quilter, because it is so big and I am tired of looking at the pieces. The fabrics are made in places like Java, Bali, Indonesia and Africa and are called Batiks. Their quality is unbelievable. I spent hours basting the curves together to make certain the circles and points all met at the right places. I am so ready to get on to something different. There are yards and yards of stuff awaiting me in the closet. I don't tell my hubby how much I have invested in fabric and he doesn't tell me about his golf expenses.
This small quilt (about a twin size) is just a pattern that caught my eye in one of my many books. It is a child's quilt and the fabrics are all fun kid stuff. Each colored block has three different fabrics with mice , balls and all sorts of toys. I bought the fabric one week and whacked the fabric apart and put it back together again in a few days. One of these days, one of my grandchildren will have a child and I will be ready. Meanwhile, it is time for Christmas, so the sewing machine must be put aside for a while. The general rule is...."Piece in the summer and quilt in the winter", but Florida is endless Summer!