A Little Girl Talk

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!

http://www.snotr.com/video/2630


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.

Mother's Day Once Again

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!

Today is Mother's Day and this is the card I got from Numero Uno child. It really cracks me up, because I spent their formative years throwing my arms across the chest of the child sitting next to me on the front bench seat of the car to prevent their being thrown through the windshield. Lord knows how they managed to live through no car seats and certainly no seat belts. One absolute rule was that they couldn't sit too near any door, because who knew whether or not the lock would hold and one could possibly fall from the car during a turn and get run over by the back wheels. However did I manage to get them safely through infancy, school, college and to the altar without killing anyone?
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!"

The Big Bail Out!

"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!"

Word Definitions for Women

(1) Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.

(2) Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.

(3) Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.

(4) Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It!

(5) Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)

(6) That's Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That's okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.

(7) Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you're welcome. (I want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' - that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're welcome' that will bring on a 'whatever').

(8) Whatever: Is a woman's way of saying ---- YOU!

(9) Don't worry about it, I got it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to # 3.

Newfangled Stuff

I keep reading wonderful blogs and wondering why I never have anything to post here in my oven. Then I realized that

some people write about what is going on in their everyday lives. Most of my life is behind me and I am clutching the few remaining days in a bony hand while in the land of sunshine with several lifelong friends. Today, I was opening a can of Dole Crushed Pineapple and got to thinking about the newfangled pop tab openers on top. Sure, they are great for doing away with the can opener, but I approach each can with trepidation when I think of the tenacity with which that razor sharp edge hangs onto the can awaiting one last tug to either open the can or cut off my fingers. Uh.... "Honey, could you help me with this can?" He laughed at me, but I reminded him of a tuna can from 1959. The lid was opened with an old fashioned can opener, leaving about 1/4 inch attached to the can....then discarded into the trash basket.

I was pregnant with my second child and my firstborn (light of my life) was toddling about in the

kitchen when she decided to investigate the trash basket. That tuna can with it's razor sharp edge pushed down into the can was very tempting to a nosy little girl and before I could blink an eye, her tiny fingers were in the can and lacerated easily as she pulled them out. We made a mad dash to the doctor's office (it was in the evening and he met us there....times were different then)and he proceeded to stitch up tiny fingers while her Daddy held her down on the exam table. I wasn't allowed to do such difficult work, due to my delicate condition. If you ever doubted that your dad loves you, Lesley....remember this story. It wasn't very many minutes before he was sitting in my chair with his head between his knees and I was draped over my tiny daughter while the doctor finished the repair. This is the man who has delivered foals in our barn and assisted the vet with major surgeries, but could not stand to have his baby daughter cry her sweet baby breath into his face.

I don't know which is worse.... the old fashioned can with the temptation to leave the lid partially attached or the

newfangled lid with it's dangerously sharp edges in the hands of an old fashioned lady with her partially attached head?

That's it for today, but it was fun to remember with "My Honey" what it was like fifty years ago, before newfangled stuff.

A Spoonful of Sugar

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?

For the last two and a half months , I have been suddenly stricken with a confusing set of symptoms. It started in mid-December with GERD (gastric reflux). But, my mind told me that it was impossible, since I had been the recipient of an esophageal fundoplication about nine years ago. This is a nifty surgery where the doctor wraps the top of your stomach around the bottom of your esophagus to keep your stomach from sliding up into your thoracic cavity through a Paraesophageal Hernia. It worked great....for many years and then started feeling like I had slipped a cog somewhere in my middle. This was complicated by another miracle of modern medicine known as a stent in my celiac artery. This major artery goes from your aorta to your liver and provides your innards with oxygen to keep digestion going. So, "my Honey" and I headed up the road to Punta Gorda and The Peace River Hospital on Dec. 26th. Tests were run and medicine prescribed (Prevacid and Carafate), which I started taking faithfully right away. Within another week, I was miserable with horrendous indigestion and we rolled on up the road to the ER again. This time, another doctor took a look at my old EKG and my newly minted EKG and said, "I think it is your heart, not your esophagus!" He then threw me into a room and called a cardiologist who sent me by ambulance to a bigger hospital and did a cardiac cath with two stents. Being a very alert and GREAT cardiac doc, he used Cobalt Chromium stents, so gastro doctors could do whatever they needed, after I had taken Plavix and Aspirin for a month. So, Honey and I drove even further up the road to northwestern Ohio and I saw my family doc, my northern heart doc and a gastroenterologist. The Endo doctor did an EGD as soon as my month was up and I discontinued the drugs that could make me bleed. The results are in and I was right.... my fundoplication has loosened up and I had developed gastric erosion in my lower esophagus, but it was in the process of healing from the twice daily Prevacid. He also ordered Carafate Suspension and we immediately discovered that this medicine was the reason that the pain had been so bad in my esophagus...I am allergic to it!

Okay, I took a long time to explain what is eating at me....not my gut, my brain. We drove back to Florida and the Ohio doctor had ordered Prevacid (twice a day) at my Ohio pharmacy. I called them this morning. With my Part D coverage of Medicare, a one month supply of Prevacid, twice a day (60 pills), is $38.00 and change. Since that seemed reasonable, I asked them about my husband's Rx for Prevacid (it works great, but OTC Prilosec is cheaper) and a three month supply of Prevacid, once a day (90 pills), is $116.00! Something just is not right here! If I get a three month's supply (180 pills), it will cost me $114.00....isn't that $2.00 cheaper for twice as many pills? Now, Mr. Hot Dog Pharmacist....Explain to the Golden Oldies how the insurance companies do the math! We are talking belly pain here, not narcotic addiction. Someday very soon, you will be old and eating your words---- I wish I could be here to see what you have to say when you are the one being screwed.

Something very strange is happening in our country. The many bills being passed by congress are placing diametric opposition between the ages. A close friend's granddaughter married two years ago in her early twenties. She and her equally young husband built a four bedroom, three bathroom home with a huge walk through shower, swimming pool on a water site. This was at the top of the housing bubble. He recently applied to the government for mortgage relief, because the young wife had a temporary medical problem and was given a $100,000.00 break on the mortgage. He has told "Grampa" that the old folks are living too long and depleting "his" Social Security. Do you see a pattern here? Our young people are spouting the equivalent of hate speech toward senior citizens....could the government be fomenting this breech between the ages? Soon, Uncle Sam will be floating us out into the ocean on a burning canoe, while the twenty somethings wave gaily from shore and the angry pharmacist leads the choir. So long for a while, that's all the songs for a while!

Happy Valentine's Day

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.

If God were going to give me seven grandsons and only one granddaughter .... I got the right one!

Most of the people who are kind enough to visit my blog know that we spend the winter in Florida. As the years pile up around us like wrinkles under our chins and our health becomes more precarious, we seem to be unable to handle the six month stretch in paradise and we end up making a trip north to visit our doctors. So, we are home for a month (I hope is is only a month) and I will have a gastroscopy on Tuesday. Hopefully, we will head back to Ft. Myers by next week, since we are freezing our behinds off. This picture is what greeted us this morning for Valentine's Day. Believe it or not, this is a walk in the park compared to the two inches of ice we drove through in Kentucky and the eleven inches of snow that was on our deck when we arrived in Ohio. When the thaw started last week, 200 or so ice fishermen were caught out on the ice in Lake Erie near Toledo and had to be rescued by the Coast Guard as the eighteen inch ice developed a huge crack between them and the shore. They had fishing shacks, snowmobiles and all sorts of equipment out there when the ice decided to break away from shore. One man fell through the ice on his snow mobile and died of a heart attack. I don't think I could make it for two seconds in forty degree water. The snow had all melted by this week and we had over two inches of rain the middle of the week. Ohio is certainly not boring and I love the changes of season, but I hope the next season I see will be the flowering of the shrubs and trees in May!

Happy Birthday to Me!

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!

Endless Summer

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!

Why Some Men Have Dogs, Not Wives

1. The later you are, the more excited your dogs are to see you.

2. Dogs don't notice if you call them by another dog's name.

3. Dogs like it if you leave a lot of things on the floor.

4. A dog's parents never visit.

5. Dogs agree that you have to raise your voice to get your point across.

6. You never have to wait for a dog; they're ready to go 24 hours a day.

7. Dogs find you amusing when you're drunk.

8. Dogs like to go hunting and fishing.

9. A dog will not wake you up at night to ask, ?If I died, would you get another dog??


10. If a dog has babies, you can put an ad in the paper and give them away.

11. A dog will let you put a studded collar on it without calling you a pervert.

12. If a dog smells another dog on you, they don't get mad. They just think it's interesting.

13. Dogs like to ride in the back of a pickup truck.

And last, but not least:

14. If a dog leaves, it won't take half of your stuff.

American Soldiers Do More Than Shoot

John Gebhardt in Iraq

John Gebhardt's wife, Mindy, said that this little girl's entire family was executed. The insurgents intended to execute the little girl also, and shot her in the head...but they failed to kill her. She was cared for in John's hospital and is healing up, but continues to cry and moan. The nurses said John is the only one who seems to calm her down, so John has spent the last four nights holding her while they both slept in that chair. The girl is coming along with her healing.
He is a real Star of the war, and represents what America is trying to do.
This, my friends, is worth sharing. You'll never see things like this in the news. The American public needs to see pictures like this and needs to realize that what we're doing over there is making a difference. Even if it is just one little girl at a time.

Barstool Economics

Suppose that every day, 10 men go out for beer and the bill for all 10 comes to $100.00.If they pay their bill the way we pay our taxes, it would go something like this:

• The first 4 men (the poorest) would pay nothing.

• The 5th would pay $1.00.

• The 6th would pay $3.00.

• The 7th would pay $7.00.

• The 8th would pay $12.00.

• The 9th would pay $18.00.

• The 10th man (the richest) would pay $59.00.

So, that's what they decided to do. The 10 men drank in the bar every day and seemed quite happy with the arrangement, until one day, the owner threw them a curve."Since you are all such good customers, he said, I'm going to reduce the cost of your daily beer by $20.00."Drinks for the 10 now cost only $80.00.

The group still wanted to pay their bill the way we pay our taxes, so the first 4 men were unaffected. They would still drink for free.But, what about the other 6 men (the paying customers)?How could they divide the $20.00 windfall so that everyone would get his fair share?They realized that $20.00 divided by 6 is $3.33. But if they subtracted that from everybody's share, then the 5th man and the 6th man would each end up being paid to drink his beer. So, the bar owner suggested... to be fair, to reduce each man's bill by roughly the same amount, and he proceeded to work out the amounts each should pay. And so:

• The 5th man, like the first 4, now paid nothing (100% savings).

• The 6th now paid $2.00 instead of $3.00 (33% savings).

• The 7th now paid $5.00 instead of $7.00 (28% savings).

• The 8th now paid $9.00 instead of $12.00 (25% savings).

• The 9th now paid $14.00 instead of $18.00 (22% savings).

• The 10th now paid $49.00 instead of $59.00 (16% savings).

Each of the 6 was better off than before. And the first 4 continued to drink for free. But once outside the bar, the men began to compare their savings.

"I only got a dollar out of the $20.00," declared the 6th man. He pointed to the 10th man, "But he got $10.00!"

"Yeah, that's right," exclaimed the 5th man. "I only saved a dollar too. It's unfair that he got 10 times more than I!"

"That's true!!" shouted the 7th man. "Why should he get $10.00 back, when I only got $2.00? The wealthy get all the breaks!"

"Wait a minute," yelled the first 4 men in unison. "We didn't get anything at all. The system exploits the poor!"

The 9 men surrounded the 10th and beat him up.

The next night, the 10th man didn't show up for drinks, so the 9 sat down and had beers without him. But when it came time to pay the bill, they discovered something important. They didn't have enough money between them for even half of the bill! (The 10th man was originally paying $59.00 of $100.00, then $49.00 of $80.00).

And that, boys and girls, journalists and college professors, is how our tax system works. The people who pay the highest taxes get the most benefit from a tax reduction. Tax them too much, attack them for being wealthy, and they just may not show up anymore. In fact, they might start drinking overseas, where the atmosphere is somewhat friendlier.

• -David R. Kamerschen, Ph.D.

• Professor of Economics, University of Georgia

Somedays, we need some fun!

One day, a man came home and was greeted by his wife dressed in a very Sexy nightie. 'Tie me up,' she purred, 'and you can do anything you want.' So he tied her up and went golfing.

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A woman came home, screeching her car into the driveway, and ran into the house. She slammed the door and shouted at the top of her lungs, 'Honey, pack your bags. I won the lottery!' The husband said, 'Oh my God! What should I pack, beach stuff or mountain stuff?' 'Doesn't matter,' she said. 'Just get out.'

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Marriage is a relationship in which one person is always right, and the other is a husband.

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A Polish immigrant went to the DMV to apply for a driver's license. First, of course, he had to take an eye sight test The optician showed him a card with the letters 'C Z W I X N O S T A C Z.' 'Can you read this?' the optician asked. 'Read it?' the Polish guy replied, 'I know the guy.' ***********************************************

Mother Superior called all the nuns together and said to them, 'I must tell you all something. We have a case of gonorrhea in the convent.' 'Thank God,' said an elderly nun at the back. 'I'm so tired of chardonay. ********************************************

A wife was making a breakfast of fried eggs for her husband.Suddenly, her husband burst into the kitchen. 'Careful,' he said, 'CAREFUL! Put in some more butter! Oh my gosh! You're cooking too many at once. TOO MANY! Turn them! TURN THEM NOW! We need more butter. Oh my gosh! WHERE are we going to get MORE BUTTER? They're going to STICK! Careful. CAREFUL! I said be CAREFUL! You NEVER listen to me when you're cooking! Never! Turn them! Hurry up! Are you CRAZY? Have you LOST your mind? Don't forget to salt them. You know you always forget to salt them. Use the! salt. USE THE SALT! THE SALT!' The wife stared at him. 'What in the world is wrong with you? You think I don't know how to fry a couple of eggs?' The husband calmly replied, 'I just wanted to show you what it feels like when I'm driving.' ***************************************************************

Fifty-one years ago, Herman James, a North Carolina mountain man, was drafted by the Army. On his first day in basic training, the Army issued him a comb. That afternoon the Army barber sheared off all his hair. On his second day, the Army issued Herman a toothbrush. That afternoon the Army dentist yanked seven of his teeth. On the third day, the Army issued him a jock strap. The Army has been looking for Herman for 51 years.

Joe Lives in Flyover Country

I live in flyover country, just across the Maumee River from Toledo, Ohio. A really nice guy, named Joe Wuzelbacher lives on the other side of the expressway in Holland, Ohio. Senator Barack Obama just happened to be in his neighborhood recently, when Joe was out tossing a football with his son. The candidate solicited a question from Joe and asked if he had any concerns. Joe replied that he was a plumber with thoughts of buying the small business from his employer in the future and what would happen to him, if his good luck should allow him to buy the business, hire a few more employees and start making more money. Would the government (under the Obama regime) take his profits away from him? Obama replied that certainly Joe must want people under him to have the same privileges by "spreading the wealth around". Now, if you have worked sixty hours this week, invested in four plumbing trucks for your plumbers to drive, hired a bookkeeper to keep Uncle Sam from sending you to the slammer for non payment of income taxes, hired an office girl to tend the phones when customers call for plumbing services and provided the office supplies and furniture..... would you think it is fair to take ....say $1000.00 and split it with the family down the street who has a plasma TV, I-Pod, Wii, kids with Nikes, a husband who smokes and drinks, but doesn't work? That's spreading the wealth around... it's also called Socialism. I've watched the news all week as different networks have hounded this poor man, his family and his neighbors. He has been vetted about his private life, but is just a private citizen and is not running for any public office. There have been about one hundred different reporters and television trucks in his neighborhood. It was said that he has no plumber's license.... in Ohio, you can be a journeyman plumber, but the license belongs to the owner of the business. Joe doesn't own the business....he is just a hard working plumber, who is trying to decide if he would ever want to work extra hard to own a business, since Obama would take his profits away and give them to non-producing slugs. They are saying that Joe owes back taxes. Why would any reputable reporter snoop into a private citizen's records? All the grief they have given to "Joe the Plumber" is an effort to diminish the importance of the question he asked Senator Obama. Why would he want to work harder, invest his life in a small business, if after all the effort.....Big Brother would come along and redistribute his hard earned money around like candy on Halloween?

A Lesson in Finance

Once upon a time, in a place overrun with monkeys, a man appeared and announced to the villagers that he would buy monkeys for $10 each.
The villagers, seeing that there were many monkeys around, went out to the forest, and started catching them.
The man bought hundreds at $10 and, as supply started to diminish, they became harder to catch, so the villagers stopped their effort.
The man then announced that he would now pay $20 for each one. This renewed the efforts of the villagers, and they started catching monkeys again. But soon the supply diminished even further, and they were ever harder to catch, so people started going back to their farms and forgot about monkey catching.
The man increased his price to $25 each and the supply of monkeys became so sparse that it was an effort to even see a monkey, much less catch one. The man now announced that he would buy monkeys for $50!
However, since he had to go to the city on some business, his assistant would now buy on his behalf. While the man was away the assistant told the villagers, 'Look at all these monkeys in the big cage that the man has bought. I will sell them to you at $35 each, and when the man returns from the city, you can sell them to him for $50 each.'
The villagers rounded up all their savings and bought all the monkeys. They never saw the man nor his assistant again, and once again there were monkeys everywhere. Now you have a better understanding of how the stock market works.
I always thought the stock market was monkey business!

What is a BILLION?

How many zeros in a billion?
This is too true to be funny. The next time you hear a politician use the Word 'billion' in a casual manner, think about whether you want the politicians' spending YOUR tax money.
A billion is a difficult number to comprehend,But one advertising agency did a good job of putting that figure into some perspective in one of it's releases.

A. A billion seconds ago it was 1959.

B. A billion minutes ago Jesus was alive.

C. A billion hours ago our ancestors were Living in the Stone Age.

D. A billion days ago no-one walked on the earth on two feet.

E. A billion dollars ago was only 8 hours and 20 minutes,
at the rate our government is spending it.

While this thought is still fresh in our brain...
let's take a look at New Orleans ...
It's amazing what you can learn with some simple division.
Louisiana Senator, Mary Landrieu (D)
Is presently asking Congress for
250 BILLION DOLLARS
To rebuild New Orleans . Interesting number...
What does it mean?

A. Well... If you are one of the 484,674 residents of New Orleans
(every man, woman, and child)
You each get $516,528.Or...

B. Or... If you have one of the 188,251 homes in New Orleans , your home gets $1,329,787.

C. Or... If you are a family of four...
Your family gets $2,066,012.
Washington, D. C. HELLO!

Are all your calculators broken??

Accounts Receivable Tax, Building Permit Tax, CDL License Tax, Cigarette Tax, Corporate Income Tax, Dog License Tax, Federal Income Tax, Federal Unemployment Tax (FUTA), Fishing License Tax, Food License Tax, Fuel Permit Tax, Gasoline Tax, Hunting License Tax, Inheritance Tax Inventory Tax, IRS Interest Charges (tax on top of tax), IRS Penalties (tax on top of tax)!, Liquor Tax, Luxury Tax, Marriage License Tax, Medicare Tax Property Tax, Real Estate Tax Service charge taxes, Social Security Tax, Road Usage Tax (Truckers), Sales Taxes, Recreational Vehicle Tax, School Tax, State Income Tax, State Unemployment Tax (SUTA), Telephone Federal Excise Tax, Telephone Federal Universal Service Fee Tax, Telephone Federal, State and Local Surcharge Tax, Telephone Minimum Usage Surcharge Tax, Telephone Recurring and Non-recurring Charges Tax, Telephone State and Local Tax, Telephone Usage Charge Tax, Utility Tax Vehicle License Registration Tax, Vehicle Sales Tax, Watercraft Registration Tax, Well Permit Tax, Workers Compensation Tax,

STILL THINK THIS IS FUNNY?
Not one of these taxes existed 100 years ago...And our nation was the most prosperous in the world.
We had absolutely no national debt...
We had the largest middle class in the world...
And Mom stayed home to raise the kids.

What happened?
Can you spell 'politicians!'?

And I still have to Press '1'For English.
What the heck happened?????

All I'm left with is small change!

Time Flies --- Get the fly swatter!

September 11, 2001 The End of Innocence

This is a rerun of the post I did last year for the contest Cathy ran over at Cathy's Place. I managed to win first prize (by twisting every arm I knew among the bloggers). This year I have a grandson who flies over the middle east and translates Arabic messages for the Air Force. Pray for our men and women who are investing so much for our country. The terrorists have not given up their desire to bring us to our knees. We must show them that we are still the America who helps all over the world and does not quit when the going gets rough.


It was shortly before nine, that Tuesday morning, when the phone began to jangle on my bedside table. Okay, so I was lolling about on my bed like Cleopatra on her barge. It was a time of life when there were no pressing reasons to leave the soft comfort of my quintessential retreat. I languidly answered and heard the excited voice of my youngest daughter. "A plane just flew into one of the Twin Towers in New York! Turn on your TV!" The horror unfolding before our eyes short-circuited the link between reality and belief. The child within wanted to deny that this could be happening even though our eyes watched the undeniable on the screen. How could such an accident happen? Stacey and I talked as we watched separately, yet bonded together in mutual sorrow for those who would never again talk with a loved one or cuddle deeply in their comfortable beds with a spouse, lover or child. People leapt from windows without hope of living, but in fear of dying from the flames left behind. American Airlines Flight 11 had ended at 8:46 am. As we watched and talked, we saw United Airlines Flight 175 hit the second tower at 9:03 --- the age of innocence ended as we realized there are people in the world who want us dead. American Flight 77 tore into the Pentagon Building at 9:37 and United Flight 93 plummeted into the ground in Pennsylvania at 10:06. This all occurred in one hour and twenty minutes, but would change the world as we know it forever. We cried together and finally hung up the phones, only to remain transfixed before the TVs. The words Muslim, elQuaida and terrorists began to filter into the reporters jargon and I searched my mind for what little knowledge I had of their activities. Americans have attended their churches faithfully for hundreds of years and have heard the Biblical stories of the ancestors of Jesus; not thinking of the ramifications of the Old Testament lineage of Abraham and Sarah. Many people know only of Jesus' birth, death and resurrection. You know --- Christmas and Easter people. The faith of Abraham filtered down from King David to God's only son, Jesus, through many generations of Hebrews. When Abraham was eighty-six years old, he took (at Sarah's behest) Sarah's handmaiden (slave), Hagar. She bore a son, Ishmael. They thought this would fulfill God's promise of a son for Abraham in his old age, but no! God had promised a son through Abraham's legal wife, Sarah. It was accomplished when Abraham was one hundred years old and the child was named Isaac. Isaac's descendants are the Jewish Nation, of whom Jesus is one descendant .... the "new covenant" with God, from which the Christians spring. Ishmael and Hagar were cast out into the desert to become the Arab Nation. God promised Hagar that her son, Ishmael, would head many nations. This, from The Living Bible; God appeared to Hagar in Genesis 17:10-12, saying , "This son of yours will be a wild one --- free and untamed as a wild ass! He will be against everyone, and everyone will feel the same towards him. But, he will live near the rest of his kin." So, we know that the Arabs and the Jews are half-brothers, but surely the Arab Nation resents the inheritance of slavery as opposed to legitimate offspring of their forefather. The stage set over two thousand years ago endures between the Jews, Christians and the Arabs in lands all over the world to this day. The Barbary Pirates of the seventeenth century were Muslims, determined to acquire enough money to spread the word of the Qur'an telling the World of Allah through his prophet, Muhammad. Their Allah is the same God worshipped by Jews and Christians and Muhammad is their prophet, whom they consider to be the equivalent of our Jesus. However, Jews await the coming Messiah and Christians believe in the Trinity of God. . Early century Muslims were just as dedicated to their mission as they are today. Muslims have never rested in their zeal to rid the world of infidels, because they truly feel it is ordained by Allah that the world be ruled by their God. We must never cease to be vigilant, because the world, as we have know it, will never be the same. Our lives are frail as breath ... we gasp at the prospect of future attacks. What does God think of mankind's perversion of His love in His name? God have mercy. Was 9/11 the end of innocence or the beginning of the end?

Medical Blogs

There came a time when I had to get an education... just in case my husband died or left me (God forbid) with three children and no real marketable skills. We had married when I was seventeen and had the kids in my early twenties. It was a given during the fifties and sixties that wives stayed pregnant and barefoot. But, when it dawned upon me that I couldn't manage the house payments on my own, off I went to nursing school (I was forty). We had one in college and two in high school, but I never wanted them to do housework in addition to their school studies, extra curricular activities and their jobs in a restaurant. In the end, all three paid for their advanced education and we provided them with room, board, laundry, all personal needs, a car and tons of love.
After I had the education, I went to work in a hospital for twenty years. First on a general med-surg floor with a smattering of peds for seven years, then on to the cardiac floor for four years and finally to maternity/nursery for nine years. I am an absolute fool for anything medical, so when computers finally entered my life I was thrilled to find all sorts of medical bloggers. I avidly approached each new blog and snickered at their rants about weird patients or drug seeking goofballs. Then, I read The Angry Pharmacist and his feelings about old people (oldfartitis...April, 2008) and realized that not all medical people are dedicated to helping the sick and infirm. In his ranting and raving, I saw genuine meanness with a small attempt to be super smart and chic. I love folks who come over here and read my blog and make comments. I love reading their blogs (my favorites are on the blog roll on the left) and making comments. We are a community and feel as though we know each other. I care when people have a problem and anxiously read their work to follow the latest outcome of a problem post. For example, Matty at Running on Empty has been writing a daily account of her grandson's battle with childhood leukemia and bone marrow transplant. This is real medical stuff coming from the heart of a real loving person. She writes of his daily struggle in his blog...Young Warrior, because he is too sick to do anything. Matty and Tayten have been at the mercy of medical types for over five months with two months to go. Working in a hospital is difficult and sometimes it hurts your soul to see the heartbreak there, so when nurses and doctors get a chance to have a laugh and let off some steam... they might step over the line and joke at some of the weirder patients that come across their path. So, I read and thought some blogs were really clever and I admit I laughed at some of their antics. But, then I started noticing that if someone disagreed with their point of view or challenged their dedication to the healing and compassionate standards in the comments sections, the commenter was torn to shreds. Nurse K from Crass Pollination, an ER Blog was one of my favorites and she is truly popular and witty in the blog world, but the further I read, the sharper the point gets on the end of her scalpel. While her views of ER are probably true to life, they are pretty snarkey. I asked a question in the comment section and was rebuffed to the extent that I am afraid to ever comment again. One thing I have discovered is that after finding a blog you like, you can follow endlessly to other blogs from one to another. It would be wonderful if these medical people could change their style just a bit... to educating and entertaining the public without the cruelty and lack of compassion.
I would offer you one bit of information.... be careful when you are answering questions from a medical professional and you get the feeling that they are forming a false idea of what you are saying. If one nurse, doctor, pharmacist or whatever writes a disparaging remark in your chart.... that little bit of information gets passed from shift to shift or person to person and your medical record or care is compromized. Way back when I had my second child, I was gingerly sitting on the edge of a chair to feed him his bottle, because I couldn't actually sit down. He started choking and gagging and I dropped to my knees on the floor and sat him on the bed to have access to him while he did a little projectile vomiting. I jerked on the emergency light and a nurse trotted in and took the little guy back to the nursery for real nursing care. Later that day, my doctor came into my room and asked me, "What's this I hear about you sitting on the floor to feed the baby?" So, from one busy nurse who had misunderstood the situation... I was suddenly some kind of kook or perhaps starting "post partum depression". This is what is happening in the medical blogs and they are supporting each other with such lack of savoir faire.

I've Been at the Machine

I've been reading Molly's blog over at The Molly Bawn Chronicles and she made me feel guilty. She is a very prolific quilter and here I am....older than dirt and wasting the little bit of time left to me by playing on the computer, instead of cranking out quilts for my kids and grands. So, I started to clean up some of my backlog (there are lots of quilts in my head and heart) and now I have a couple ready to be quilted. This one has been riding back and forth to Florida for a couple of years. There are eighty blocks altogether, which means 1360 pieces of fabric that needed to be attached to each other. Finally pieced! Those are my hubby's tootsies peeking out at the bottom. Thank you, honey! He is my official quilt holder. Does that make him a model?
This week, I also finish piecing a baby girl quilt, which involved a lot of teeny, tiny applique stitches. I had been doing all the hand work while I watched T.V. Since I was raised before television, but listening to the radio.... I always need to have something to do while "watching" T.V. (actually, I listen more than watch), so applique is a real answer. It's really better than reading, because I keep getting the plot of the book confused with the story on T.V. Knitting works, too, but is not as much fun as having bunches of wonderful fabric in my hands. This one is a "grandmother's fan with white lace gathered along the top of the heart. I have made this one before, but it pays to be ahead with baby quilts....someone is always having a baby!

When we first got home from Florida in June, I finished putting my embroidered boy quilt together. I have finally learned to use some of the features of my expensive Bernina. I cheated and sent this quilt out to a professional long arm quilter, so I would have time to put a few more tops together.

I'm thinking that I quilt better than I take photos, but you get the idea. The quilt store is fifty minutes away and I can't wait to go there again....they have some really nifty wall hanging patterns that I need to make for my Florida home. There was a machine quilting class last Friday and while it was fun, I am not ready to wreck one of my masterpieces with my klutzy machine quilting, yet. (How much does gas cost to go ninety miles? ... this store is worth every penny.)

This was a double Bargello quilt that I made for a nephew's baby while I was in Florida. The obvious movement of color on the larger pieces was okay, but the smaller half inch pieces ran the opposite direction. The reverse movement of color confused the heck out of me and I had no extra fabric to fix the thing, so I let it stand. Someone once told me that " Only Christ is perfect".... this is an example of never making a perfect quilt. God would be happy with me!
This brings me to this king size quilt that has faithfully traveled along with me to hither and yon for lo these last four years. I have quilted the main body (I love hand quilting the blank spaces...double click on the picture to see the quilting) and I stitched in the ditch around all the little squares and colored blocks, but have been unable to mark the dark borders. Nothing works! The water soluble pens don't show, chalk doesn't show, silver pencils don't show. I had just about given up completely, when the owner of the quilt shop in Bettsville said, "I guess you'll be using masking tape to follow the lines."!!!! Of course, I replied that I was doing that as a last resort. The light bulb didn't go off over my head ... it exploded. Looks like I'm finally going to finish that big sucker! My first quilt teacher told me, "Quilts are meant to keep people you love warm." And so it is!

Congressional Recess

!

I haven't figured out how to add videos, but please, please go to this site and check out how much work our Congress does for us. I'm going to have to look up the perks they get for working all these days! It's going to shock you.... with righteous indignation!

(Uncle Jay explains the congressional news)

http://www.funnyordie.com/videos/5a645e013b

The Pure Perks

-An annual salary of $158,000 for U.S. Senate & House of Representatives.

- The Vice President, top leaders in the House and Senate and the chief justice receive $198,600.

-Associate justices of the Supreme Court get $190,600

and the House majority and minority leaders receive $171,900.

- President Bush makes $400,000 in salary a year.

-Free life insurance and a generous retirement plan

- Free office space in Washington and in the home district.

- A staff allowance of $752,400 for each House member and from $400,000 to 2.4 million depending on the population of his or her state and its distance from the Capitol for each senator. Plus more for committee aids.

- An expense account for telephone, stationery, and other office costs.

- Thirty-two fully reimbursed round trips home per year.

- Travel allowance and free travel to foreign lands on Congressional inquires.

-Nearly unlimited franking privileges.

-Access to free Congressionally owned and operated video and film studios to record messages for constituents.

- Discounts in Capitol Hill tax-free shops and restaurants. (the bean soup is $1.40 a cup in the Senate Dining Room)

- $10.00 haircuts at the Congressional barbershop.

- Free reserved parking at Washington National Airport.

- Use of the House gym or Senate Baths for $100. a year.

- Free fresh cut flowers from the Botanic Gardens

- Free assistance in the preparation of income taxes

The Peaceful People

My firstborn and I went on a three day retreat from the hustle-bustle of modern society and traveled to Holmes County, Ohio. This is home to the largest Amish Settlement in the World. Notice this home has no electric or telephone lines, which the peaceful Amish people believe would bring bad influences into their homes. After many such visits, I agree with them that the outside world is messing with our hearts and souls. Each day more and more harmful thoughts and ideas creep into our lives and we become inured to them inch by inch, minute by minute.
Amish youth enjoy a period of "rumspringa" or "running around", which begins about sixteen and ends when the teen decides to commit to the church and be baptized into adult membership of the community. During rumspringa, the teens party with beer, cigarettes, drugs, wearing "English" clothing and makeup. This taste of wild American life allows them to make an informed decision to live the remainder of their lives for God under the rules of the Amish Ordnung without feelings of having missed out on some nebulous big-time experience. Ninety percent of the teens return to the church after this period of "running around"to marry and become full members of the Amish community. They raise their children in the church, speak only German in their homes and follow principles handed down for centuries. By staying faithful to the simple, plain life, these peaceful people eschew modern conveniences and work very hard. Their lives are productive and successful.
We drove from Northwest Ohio down to Bettsville, Ohio to visit our
favorite fabric shop. We tried to not spend too much money on our quilting addiction, but we have some great fabrics hiding in the sewing room. We failed miserably! Then, we picnicked beside the Tiffin River and leisurely drove on to Holmes County to The Inn at Honey Run. The rooms are very nice with quilts on every bed and hiking trails accessible by simply stepping out the window. Hummingbirds and tiny squirrels flit past the windows and the air is alive with the chirping of many different types of birds. The best part of our trip is driving the car off the main drag at dusk to ogle the Amish as they bring in the big teams of Belgium Draft Horses Horses for the night. Children play games and chase barefoot through the deepening shadows. Moms are out tending the flower gardens. The Amish dress plainly and wear no jewelry. The homes are plain and functional, but beauty comes into their lives in the form of flowers. Though they work very hard all day at chores, the evening is devoted to tending the flower gardens and quilting... no wonder we love the Amish!
This little gal is a living weed eater used for grass control on rolling hillsides and she gives milk, too. The whole area gives an aura of peace and tranquility, which is needed so much by the fast paced American life. When you need rejuvenation of spirit and a picker-upper to carry on in your life....head for the nearest Amish community and learn how to slow down and smell the new mown hay or pig poop. The oldest daughter does not have a feeling for the farm smells, but she loves the quiet. Soon, she will be back teaching a roomful of third graders, which is anything but quiet.

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The Computer

I have a joke for you today....thought it would keep a smile in your week-end. It's a beautiful day in my neighborhood. Smile!

A Spanish teacher was explaining to her class that in Spanish, unlike English, nouns are designated as either masculine of feminine. 'House' for instance, is feminine: 'la casa.' 'Pencil,' however, is masculine: 'el lapiz.' A student asked, 'What gender is 'computer'? Instead of giving the answer, the teacher split the class into two groups, males and females, and asked them to decided for themselves whether 'computer'should be a masculine or a feminine noun. Each group was asked to give four reasons for its recommendation.

The men's group decided that 'computer' should definitely be of the feminine gender ('la computadora"), because:

1. No one but their creator understands their internal logic;

2. The native language they use to communicate with other computers is incomprehensible to everyone else;

3. Even the smallest mistakes are stored in long term memory for possible later retrieval; and

4. As soon as you make a commitment to one, you find yourself spending half your paycheck on accessories for it.

The women's group, however, concluded that computers should be masculine ('el computador') because:

1. In order to do anything with them, you have to turn them on;

2. They have a lot of data, but still can't think for themselves;

3. They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem; and

4. As soon as you commit to one, you realize that if you had waited a little longer, you could have gotten a better model.

Who do you think won?

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY

One is the Democratic Party and one is the Republican Party. We are what the winner will poop out after the election! NEVER GIVE UP!