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I was reading the paper this morning about a guy I knew when he was eight years old. He was Brenda Somebody’s boyfriend and I thought I could not live without him. He was adorable. Brenda and I had been good friends until then. Looking at the picture of this short, fat, bald man did not remind me of the boy who could twirl a basketball on his finger. I remember running into him a few years ago when he was working on divorce number 4. He said I had a sweet wiggle in my walk. I knew then he had problems with his eyes. If he does not know when someone’s hip implant is popping in and out he is in trouble. I wonder how many other things I can think of… that I have learned to live without? Turns out there are quite a few. I learned to live without a mink coat, that blue dress hanging in Neiman’s window. I learned to live without a diamond too big to wear on a ring. I learned to live without coming in first at anything. I learned to live without giving up when things got tough. I learned to live without being unkind just because I could. I learned to live without everyone agreeing with me. For a period of time, I learned to live without my eyesight and got it back. Ooh, what a wonderful lesson that blessing was. I lost my hearing for a while and a similar blessing. I learned to live without another person in the house. If I have learned to live without so many things, what do I treasure most? Love. Love for my fellow man, animals (great and small), sunrises and sunsets, the smell of honeysuckle, roses, and lavender. I treasure the sweet taste of honey and homemade bread. I learned to love maple syrup because it comes naturally and does not need “the human touch” to be good. I treasure how all that has touched my heart. I used to raise butterflies. I was always in wonder at how they started out as eggs. They hatch and the larva starts eating whatever plant their mom has provided for them. They grow into a caterpillar. Their only reason for doing anything is to reach a point where they can be independent and on their own. Finally, they reach the point where they build their own home, they move into it. They spend time fixing it up and making everything just right. The minute it is ready, they open it and fly away to find a mate, deposit eggs, and die. A butterflies’ life is short and yet we always enjoy seeing them. They spread beauty, promise, and hope where ever they go. We, humans, spend our entire lifetimes getting ready to be on our own, in our own homes, etc. We go to school to get the education to build a career that will build our homes. When we get it all just right. When it is full of all the things we cannot live without… we leave it. When something happens to confine us to that environment we built for ourselves we sit and think about all the things outside that home… we cannot live without. I once knew a man named Vance, who had been born with club-feet. He had gone through several surgeries to correct the problem. He started having operations I believe he said around the age of twelve. Before that time he was made fun of because of the way he walked. He was different from the other kids. For two years he was home tutored while he was preparing for surgery or recovering from one. During those years of tutoring and being home, he taught himself how to play the organ. His mother had brought one home from an auction. It was a pretty piece of furniture to her, but it became an escape for him. He would listen on the radio and go to the organ and pick out the notes until he could play the tune. He never learned how to read music but he played the organ beautifully. By the time he was eight years old, he played several times for a local restaurant’s dinner hour. It was a fun thing for him. He loved learning. He once told me he was the happiest when he could get lost in the music. At the age of fourteen, he was cleared to go to public school. He would still have to walk with a cane for about three months to gain good arch support for his feet. He had yearned for many years to be able to go to school like a normal boy. The other kids made fun of him walking with a cane. That was okay. He learned to laugh at himself and even called himself ‘old man and ‘grandpa’ as the other kids did. He had been in school for about a month. He was out in the schoolyard watching the kids play baseball. He enjoyed watching the game. One of the boys did not like the idea that he always got to leave class early and to be seated first with assemblies. There did not seem to be anything wrong with him. The bully decided that Vance, was faking and the cane was just so he would have an excuse. He grabbed the cane. Vance fell. The bully jumped on Vance’s feet and crushed his arches. Once again confined to bed. He had learned to lift himself in and out of his bed with the use of a trapeze-type bar that hung over his bed. He would lift himself from the bed to a wheelchair to go to the bathroom, take a bath, and then back again. He had learned some independence. He had started taking algebra and found he enjoyed math. He became infatuated with numbers. He started creating wonderful puzzles with numbers. He sold some to the local newspapers to publish in the Sunday paper beside the crossword puzzles. He continued with his musical studies as well. He made it through the equivalent of high school and eventually took the required college classes to get his master’s in mathematics. He became a CPA and worked for one of the largest oil companies in the world. He had also taught himself to walk, run, and how to do hand-to-hand combat. In fact, he taught special classes for a local military base. He was very accomplished. I met Vance when he was doing an audit of one of the gas stations for the company. I was a customer. We started chatting. Long story short… I married him. We had been married for about three years when we found out he had leukemia. It did not slow him down at all. There were no cures for bone cancer back in those days. Vance’s big thing was to learn something new each day and write it down. He had many tablets listing his new discoveries. The cancer was winning the fight. I had asked him once if he was angry with the bully that had put him back in bed. He said at first he was disappointed. He said hate and revenge only rob the one dwelling on them. He said the key is to not get even with the ones who hurt you but try to get even with the ones who have helped you. Then, he said, he realized that without it he would not have had the strength to learn the hand-to-hand combat or teach it to others. He said without those experiences he would not have slowed down enough to learn and enjoy music or share it with others. He paged through his notebooks. “Look, Jane, at all the new things I have experienced so far. I feel somewhat like Daniel in the lion’s den. God gave me what I needed to lift myself out. I also feel like the three Hebrew boys in the fiery furnace. There is not even the smell of smoke on me. All the love in my heart for you and my family is all I need to take with me. He was gone by the next morning. I learned to live without Vance’s presence but the treasures he gave me will last forever. Treasures of the heart cannot be lost or stolen. Those are the things one cannot live without.
Tags: Values Blessings Gratitude
I have had a real time of it. Talk about having a senior moment. It all started last night. I don't know what time it was when I last sent an email. But right after that my system popped up and said it wanted to do an update and that it would take "a while" to do it. A while turned into hours. I watched all the Gunsmoke episodes I had recorded and was starting in on the Walker, Texas Ranger recordings before I finally got an "okay." The screen just said, "DO NOT TURN OFF YOUR PC". That is when the fun started.
Special Moment #1 I turned on the PC. It asked me for my username and password. I have not had to log into my system for almost a year, so I had to refer to my paperwork. I could not remember where I put it. I yelled at the fly that landed on my arm, I yelled at the coffee pot for going to slow. I looked through the file boxes, I looked through everything I could find. I could not remember my id or my password. I could not remember where I put them either. I was taking "calm down" breaks in between my little fits of "dumb Jane chants." I thought about the first that was coming up. How would I pay my bills? How would I get groceries? A little panic was growing.
I decided to take things slow and just let my mind wander a bit. Sometimes, when I try to think too hard on something, I unknowingly throw out the right answer because I am giving myself too many possibilities. When that happens, I just get quiet and let my mind wander. I came back in and quietly started cleaning up the office. I put everything back in order, took out the trash, and started working on the desk. I picked up the PC and instantly stopped. There, taped to the bottom was the information to get into it. I remember I had done that when I took it to the ER that time. Anyway, I got into the PC. I was thrilled. The update had changed all the icons on the desktop but that was okay. I had everything labeled correctly.
I wanted to check my emails:
Special Moment #2 Since I had the information about getting into the PC taped outside, I had changed the email access. I could not find the file where I had hidden it. I went through my cheat sheets. Nothing I tried worked. I spent two hours going through files trying to find the passwords to my email accounts. I finally found it. No wonder I could not find it. It was labeled, Hamlet's stash, and I forgot all about it. I finally got into my email account a few minutes ago. I found all the account IDs, but the file with the passwords was labeled, Oscar's Nuts. Oscar is my pet squirrel. You read it right. I have a pet squirrel. I have changed all of this but have also made several copies of it and put it in several places around the house.
Special Moment #3. I could not remember what I was going to do when I tried to get into the computer in the first place. I stared out the window, relaxing my mind. The only thing I was looking through the eyes of a dinosaur watching an extremely large ship sailing away on the ocean. I was saying to another dinosaur, “Oh, crap. Was that today? I started laughing. I turned off the computer and walked into the bedroom laughing. As soon as I sat down…. It all came back to me. I wrote myself a note as to why I needed to get into the computer… later. I also was not worried. I had also written down how to get back in. I fell asleep watching TV.
When I woke up, a very dear friend had come in, noticed I was asleep. She proceeded to pick up my house. She threw away all my handy notes.
I thanked her for all her hard work. I went into the computer room, no notes. Thank goodness senior moments do not last long. As soon as I started remembering I wrote everything down again and sent the information to my phone.
I am as happy as I could be until I glanced at my dog. She was holding her food dish… Oops! Another special moment. I think I best stop counting. I got up to go get the dog food in the kitchen. I got to the kitchen and for the life of me could not remember why I went in there. I looked at the half way made coffee and started to finish making it. I had run out of coffee filters and looked around for the paper towels. The roll in the kitchen was out. I headed for the laundry room to get another roll off the shelf. When I got there I noticed the dryer had finished and started to unload it. I congratulated myself for remembering to put the roll of paper towel on top of the load of laundry. I got to my bedroom, put down the laundry basket full of dry clothes and scratched my head. Why had I put the paper towel there. Oh, darn, it was important too. I decided to put away the laundry before I forgot. I still had the paper towel in my hand when I remembered the coffee. I finished making the coffee. I started to leave the kitchen when Bella barked. She was standing on top of the dog food bag and Sweet Pea was now holding a bowl. "Oh, girls, I am so sorry." I proceeded to tell Bella to go get her bowl while I proceeded to feed Sweet Pea. I was able to fill both bowls before leaving the room.
I could not believe I was having a whole day of special moments. I poured myself a cup of coffee and went into the bedroom to watch TV. I suddenly remembered the day when my grandmother had decided to spank me. We were not allowed to climb very high in the huge pecan tree in the yard. I was having so much fun; I just kept climbing higher. She saw me and held her breath until I got down. She ordered me to pick out a switch. I hated these tasks. I was to meet her in the living room. I got a switch and started into the house. She was coming down the hall. I suddenly ran out of reach. She chased me into the living room. There is a big barrel chair (which I still own) that she used for such tasks. She was on the back side of the chair and I was on the front. We played dodge with each other for a few minutes. Then she said, "Now, Tina, Tricia, Elenor, Tim, Michael." She then started laughing and flopped down in the chair. "Which one of the Hoover Dam kids you are... come here."
I too started laughing and stepped into her open arms. Big mistake... I still got the spanking which consisted of two strokes of the switch across my bottom. All spankings usually started with her telling us exactly why we were being spanked and ended with an I love you and a big hug. This one had started with a giggle.
I decided that I just came by it naturally. I heard a buzzing from the other room. Oh, yeah. I went into the office to finish the email I had started. Have you ever had a day like mine?
Tags: Aging Humor Memory
For about a week I had gone through the 'drop its' or everything I wanted or needed was in another room. I had an ankle and knee that was giving me problems. Constantly getting up and down became frustrating, to say the least. I am used to praying for guidance and giving thanks for my blessings. Last night I prayed for God to send me someone who would fetch and carry for me. My advice to most people when they want something specific to happen is to pray for guidance and to be put into alignment with God's plan to ensure peace and tranquility. I always say, "Watch what you pray for."I should have taken my own advice.
"Jane you are the only one I could think of to help us right now. We have a stray that has a broken foot and needs a quiet place to stay until we can find him a forever home. He is a surrender. His owner died and we just don't have a place for him. His name is Loverboy."
Sometimes it just does not pay to answer the door. I had already ushered Belle and Sweet Pea into the back bedroom. I had put up a flap to keep Oscar and Grammy from having free reign of the kitchen.
"Where is he now?" I watched as the chief rubbed his hands together. I could tell he was depending on me saying yes. He seemed very nervous. "What do I need to know about Loverboy?"
"He loves everything female."
"Is he going to try to get to any of my girls?" I watched the chief. He was walking back and forth now. Chewing his upper lip. Trying to smile. I had watched this man face a robber who had broken into my house. I had watched as he captured a drug ring in a sting operation across the street at the truck rest. I had watched him stare down an angry deaf man trying to keep others from stepping on his hearing aid that had fallen out. That guy was crazy. This man I was watching now is not the brave hero I had learned to count on in a crisis. "Chief, what are you not telling me?"
"Oh, Jane, let me go get him. He is in the van outside... please. You will understand. He won't hurt you, I promise."
I watched from the window as he went down the steps to the van. He gave a thumbs-up sign to two other officers in the van. They get out and go behind the van. Now, I can't see anyone. Suddenly, they all three start running out with a long leash behind them tied to a five-foot-three-inch llama. He is spitting on them. They try to duck but this thing is nailing them every time. I could not help but laugh. I had actually taken care of llamas before. Ray and I had a friend out at the lake that had a petting zoo. John Fuller had two llamas. They are good spitters. If you make them mad, they will spit on you. They can spit a long distance too. I went to the kitchen and got a whole roll of paper towels, a bowl of white vinegar, and 3 bottles of hand sanitizer.
I opened the door and said, "Welcome, gentlemen. I have a llama spit clean-up station all set up. Wipe the bulk off first then dip your hands in the vinegar to cut the sticky then use the sanitizer to clean it all off."
The chief grinned so big I could see nothing but teeth. "I knew you would know, Jane."
"What did you do to him. They only do that when they are mad at someone." We found his owner. We had to restrain him so we could get the body out. He thinks we are the ones that hurt his owner. His owner is or was a hundred years old. They had been together for a very long time. We contacted his kids and grandkids. It seems, Loverboy only likes females. All of the people in his family are male. All the women or dead or gone. No one wanted Loverboy."
I watched as the officers watched Loverboy. He heard my voice and suddenly stopped playing target practice with the officers and ran across the yard, up the steps, and straight to me. He laid his head on my shoulder. He started making smacking noises. They have very soft lips. "Now, there, there. My sweet Loverboy." I motioned for the officers to go past me into the house so they could get cleaned up. I told them to clean up and holler when they were seated in the living room. Loverboy and I did our little hug thing on the front porch.
Don't you know George, my Yankee neighbor is going to get a kick out of this one? My favorite gossiper will have a field day too. I could hardly wait to get the chatter going. At least everyone will stop talking politics for a while. I heard the officers holler they were ready.
I took Loverboy by the leash and slowly walked with him into the house. I held the leash very tight around his upper neck as I took him to each officer. When I saw him gathering a spitball, I put my hand around his snout and said in a very firm voice, "NO, Loverboy, NO." He stopped. He did not hug anyone else, but he did not spit again. I also remembered that God never gives us something we cannot handle. Now I know why experience with llamas while working with John Fuller when Ray and I lived at the lake. He had a petting zoo. It was small but the animals were very good. I remember that John had to let me feed his llama because it would spit on him.
I then had the time of my life introducing Loverboy to the rest of his newfound harem. Sweet Pea kissed him, Belle danced at both ends for him. Grammy wanted a ride. Oscar looked, watched him put his head on each female. Oscar is so clever. He just bowed his head and folded his little hands across his tummy. He then scampered out to the laundry room and got a bowl of popcorn. He brought it out to Loverboy. The two guys then sat there, eating popcorn, watching the girls go by.
I took Loverboy to the front room and closed him off until the officers made their getaway. I told the chief he was going to have to supply the hay to keep Loverboy happy. He promised to bring some by. He would also be sending the vet by to double-check his split hooves.
Now, I gotta figure out how to get this sweet idiot off my shoulder. He is a cry baby for sure. I did however discover he is excellent at fetching. All I gotta do is point to something and he will bring me everything he can pick up ... in that direction. I spent most of my time putting away things Loverboy brought me. He eventually brought me what I thought I was pointing to.I must learn to be more specific. It looks like I got me a real ringed tail tooter this time. I am not sure if I will be keeping Loverboy or not. It is a big responsibility. It might take care of the lawnmowing problem. He and I are still getting acquainted.
I really need to be more specific in my dreams. I dreamed of living with a male that would wait on me instead of the other way around. This is not exactly what I had in mind. I gotta figure out how to handle the doggy door and Loverboy.
My retirement is nothing like I thought it was going to be.
PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW
Loverboy and I have only been acquainted for a few days. The chief of police asked me to foster him until a forever home could be found. I live in a busy neighborhood in a very small town. I am a widow. Most of the homes in my block belong to other widows. We have one lone wolf among us. He is a retired New York policeman who walks his cat on a leash. George and I have had our ups and downs for sure.
I introduced George to members at the senior center. He was thrilled to discover there were two more men from New York. This is only of interest because the other widows in the hood spend a lot of time making food and taking it to George. They accidentally on purpose show up when he has his buddies come over for dominoes. The town's biggest gossip is among the widows who haunt him. He has gotten used to the custom of Southern women to get to a man's heart through his stomach. Especially since the swish in his walk was due to a bullet wound and not because he was gay.
I have two pet squirrels and two dogs. My babysitting requests have extended from children with special needs to elderly parents. My latest request was fostering Loverboy.
Loverboy only likes females. All females. Both my dogs are female. One other male in the house is Oscar. Oscar is a very talented squirrel. Surprisingly Loverboy and Oscar have had a ball watching the girls walk up and down the street. However, the men, so I learned, have had a rough time of it. I promise I had no idea it was happening.
When first I wake up I glance out the window to see what is happening on my street. I got curious when I watched George walk by with his cat, Bertha, and suddenly slap the back of his neck. Then he suddenly ducked and felt something on the top of his head. I am thinking, a bird pooped on him. He made a "Yuke" face and started looking around. He hurried back across the street and got on his front porch. I got fascinated when I discovered three of my other neighbors on the gossip's front porch. They were all watching George. I decided it must be domino day and shrugged it off.
I went to the kitchen to make coffee and make some toast. Boom! Boom! It sounded like world war three outside. Bang, Bang. I rushed to the window. Now three men are shooting up into the biggest tree in my yard. It is not actually in my yard but the branches spread over my fence. I could not imagine what they could be shooting at. I instantly called the police. I made my way to the backyard.
I yelled at George, "You stop that." I hurried to the fence line. "What are you trying to kill?" I had remembered him trying to kill Oscar had come in his open window.
"There is some bird up here that is spitting on us. I have been nailed every time I walk Bertha. When my buddies got here I invited them over to help me find it. I cannot see it. I thought if I shot up into the tree it might scare it and it would fly away. Before we were halfway across the street my two buddies got nailed. In the middle of the street, Jane." He is yelling at me and waving his gun around.
"Put that gun away before someone gets hurt." All of a sudden, all three men got hit again; one, two, three. I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye. There, just behind the tool shed, are Loverboy and Oscar. Oscar is on Loverboy's neck as if he is riding him. "Loverboy, you stop that."
"Loverboy? Who are you calling Loverboy? Jane, who has been spitting at me for the last three days? George had put away his gun. But I could tell he was completely confused. His double chin was quivering. He held his hands up from the elbows, palms up.
"I thought you said you and Jane were just friends." The town gossip had her hands on her hips and turned from George to me. "Who are you calling Loverboy, Jane?" The town gossip leads the parade of widows now joining the men under the tree. This instant cackle of geese were all asking the same thing. Ladies, I want you to stand right where you are and wait.
"Gentlemen, please wait here for just a second. I went into the house and got an umbrella and two newspapers. I hurried back out to the fence line. I handed each man something to cover their heads. "Ladies, would you please step to the fenceline. By this time everyone was wondering what was going on. The ladies stood at the fence with me. "Loverboy, come here."
Everyone's mouth fell open. Loverboy walked out from behind the tool shed. He walked over to the fence. He laid his head on each one of the ladies' shoulders and made smacking noises. His lazy eyes and floppy ears stole their hearts. "Loverboy only likes girls." The ladies started petting him and cooing and awing him. Oscar scampered up to the top of his head and waved his hands. I reached up and rescued Oscar. "I am so sorry guys, I had no idea he was taking potshots at you. George, hold onto your umbrella and walk slowly to the fence." Geoge followed my instructions.
While Loverboy was snuggling with the town's gossip, and her two friends; George stroked him. "Talk to him in a female voice, George."
"Loverboy," George said in a very high-pitched female voice that surprised us all. Loverboy laid his head on George's shoulder. Everyone said "awe" at the same time.
The police car showed up with two officers. They started to come out of the car and stopped. They got out the megaphone and shouted from behind the car door. "Jane, can you handle this?"
"I got it, guys. Loverboys has been getting to know the neighbors." I then turned to George, you better walk away slowly and go talk to the officers about firing a gun within the city limits. You are a retired policeman you should know better. Did you hit your head when you fell off that turnip truck?" Geroge started walking towards the police car.
"We have found a forever home for Loverboy on a farm. The lady has two daughters running the farm with her. Loverboy will fit right in with the other animals she has. She has goats, pigs, chickens, dogs, and a couple of cats." We will be by later today to pick Loverboy up."
The entire crowd now, in unison, said, "Oh, no." Suddenly, the three ladies gave Loverboy a hug. The two gentlemen still standing under the tree holding newspapers over their heads forgot... they had not been properly introduced to Loverboy. They came towards the group now at the fence. "Yuke." They shouted as Loverboy landed two really good spitballs on both of them.
"Sir," The officer said to the men. "Now you know why we are talking from here. We know Loverboy. He can spit farther and more accurately than anything I have ever seen before."
"What kind of camel is he, Jane." The town gossip had never seen a llama. "Their lips are so soft. He is so sweet." She stroked Loverboys neck and laid her head on his head. He made smacking noises.
"Loverboy is a llama," I answered the gossip and could see all the wonderful gossip she thought she was going to have next time she went to the grocery store. She almost squealed with delight.
" Officer," I shouted towards the police car. George was showing one officer his gun. "I am going to put Loverboy back in the house and get him ready for his trip. If you will call me on the phone I will tell you how to handle him so no one gets spit upon while loading him up." I got a thumbs up from the officers. The crowd now watched as I pulled on Loverboy's leash and lead him back into the house.
All watched from their respective porches as the van showed up and four female officers showed up to take Loverboy to his new home. I had gotten him out to the van. By the time I got to the back of the van, all three ladies were there for their final goodbyes. That poor truck driver that walked by at just the wrong time. "Yuke!, Oh, Yuke!" He shouted. The two officers, the ladies, and I all laughed. We could not help it. It was funny. We got a nasty look from the poor guy as he ran across the street to get away from whatever was spitting on him.
Loverboy's stay was a short one but his memory will last a long time. I just glanced out the window, George was walking Bertha again. I saw him pause, put his hand over his heart, and softly pat his chest. He shook his head as he glanced at the tree and the fence line.
It is amazing how much love one five-foot+ llama could stir up on one little street in one small town. I folded my hands and closed my eyes. "Dear Lord, the next time I say I need someone to fetch and carry... please make it at least human."
Tags: Humor Retirement
The Saturday before Easter Sunday at our house was a little like Christmas Eve. We had the bus ready to go pick up the group of homeless people that had gathered under a bridge close to downtown Dallas.
Ray, my husband, had enlisted the help of Andrew, a doctor who had served in Vietnam. Andrew was a very large black man who had lost an eye and one arm before coming home from the war. He was as tall and big as Ray. Ray stood 6'6" and weighed in at 285 with snow-white hair. I called them the salt and pepper brigade. They worked together to help the homeless with medications and in overcoming drug addictions. Andrew had been downtown talking to different groups to find those who wanted to come to the Easter Service. Little did we know the party was going to be crashed in more ways than one.
I had been in the kitchen baking hams, beans, and pies for a week. All the potato salad, green bean casseroles, deviled eggs, and carrot raisin salad had been prepared. I was finishing up on the eggs when I got a little more help than I bargained for. I always start pickling eggs for a couple of weeks in preparation for the Easter dinner. I had all the eggs shelled and cut. The yokes were in the mixing bowl and I discovered the mixer had been put up by Ray which meant at the very top of the shelf. I got the step stool I used for such occasions. Just as I stepped on the stool, Baby Dog (a lab Sheppard mix) arrived with a baby bunny in his mouth and deposited it on the floor in front of me. I almost stepped on the poor thing.
I had been raising miniature rabbits for some time and it looked like Baby Dog (who was in charge of guarding them) had taken his duties a little too far. I told Baby Dog he was a good boy and went to return the baby to the "Rabbit Quarters" of the barn. I had been gathering a group of rabbits to sell in town for Easter gifts for children. I had only been doing it for a few years but the proceeds paid for several projects Ray and I had going at the Children's hospital. Baby Dog apparently did not like the idea. I thought he had opened one of the transport cages and let everyone escape. I instantly started running around trying to catch the escapees. Baby Dog ran back into the house and alerted Brutus. Brutus, our 235 pound cross-eyed Great Dane came bounding into the barn. The rabbits scattered as the dogs took over the gathering. Both dogs were so gently I was not worried about any rabbits getting hurt, however, neither dog knew the difference between a rabbit, an opossum, and a raccoon.
It seemed that is what Baby Dog had come to tell me. A raccoon had picked the latch lock of the rabbit cage and an opossum had moved into it. The baby rabbits were a prime attraction for the opossum. Brutus was only trying to help when he caught the opossum I had just shaken out of the cage and put him back inside the cage. The only thing that helped was Brutus always saw double so did not get the door closed before the opossum decided this was not the place he wanted to be. He took a run at the open door, across the shelf, and down the leg of the table. Brutus announced his departure and I assured him all was fine. The baby rabbits had been gathered but I seemed to be missing about 4 of them. I had to finish what I had started in the kitchen and decided I would look for them later.
Finally, I got all the food preparations completed and stored till time to dish things up. I had taken the 7 baked hams out and place them in the warm smoker along with the baked beans for the last few hours before time to eat.
Ray and Andrew had gone to gather the flock. The classroom had been once again converted into a church and everything was in the proper place. Even Tilly's perch had been moved. It had become a custom for Tilly (Ray's African Gray Parrot) to attend services since she had been the star during our Christmas Prayer Meeting. I took off to get myself ready for the festivities.
When Ray and Andrew pulled up I could not believe my eyes. Andrew was bleeding from the top of his head. Ray was holding onto a gash in his arm and had an eye that was swollen shut. The passengers pile out of the bus holding a large bald man that was very, very, angry. He too seemed to be injured. He was extremely stooped over and holding his back walked with a cane. He was shouting names at Andrew and shaking his cane at Ray. He shouted to me to call the police. "This damn Indian and black #@#$% had it coming. They don't have the right to be at a white church. I asked beforehand and was told this was a church for white people." I was astonished. We had all races in our little church and had never thought one way or other about it. I turned to him and said; "Our church is open to all who want to attend. I do mean All sir. Have you looked at your fellow passengers?" I waved my hands over the three Mexicans, two Japanese, four Pakistani, and six others I was not sure of. "Maybe you would be better off if I got someone to give you a ride back to town." I motioned one of our helpers to get my car."
"Hell, no lady. I was promised some food. I ain't leavin' until I eat." He seemed extremely angry. I motioned for him to the doors to the church. Ray and Andrew had gone into the house to get the first aide they both seemed to need. I stopped him as he got to the top of the porch. "If you do not attend, you do not eat. If you continue to use bad language you can do so with another black four-legged friend I have." I pointed to the bay window. Brutus was standing on the inside of the bay window. It looked like a floor-to-ceiling DOG. The man looked at the window full of dog and put up both hands in surrender to my terms. I thought to myself this was going to be an interesting meeting. I also had to laugh inside. Wait till he finds out how gentle and harmless Brutus is. I whispered a little prayer for peace to prevail.
Our angry guest had taken a spot on the first row. His arms folded across his chest and the scowl on his face showed his contempt for the proceedings. The hymn that day was from a poem written by Mary Baker Eddy entitled, "Feed My Sheep." It had been one of my favorites growing up as a child. I had furnished copies of the words on the pews.
When it came time to stand and sing.. our angry guest had pushed himself up as far as he could go. His stoop was extreme and he seemed to be in a lot of pain. Andrew did not say a word. He quietly went over to the man and examined his shoulder which seemed to be out of joint. The man started swinging wildly at Andrew. Ray, stepped in, caught the man's arm in mid-swing, and told him to please calm down. "This man is a doctor he can help you." Ray's voice was calm and almost a whisper. The man looked at Ray and glanced down at the stitches that had sewn up the wound he had given Ray.
Suddenly, Andrew jerked the man's arm and the shoulder popped back into place. The man let out a scream and a look of surprise came across his face. The horrible pain was gone. He grinned and rubbed his shoulder. Andrew fixed a sling for him. Andrew had not said a word. The gash in his head had also been bandaged. The man looked at Andrew and was as if he had seen him for the first time. He realized Andrew was missing an eye. Here this one-armed, one-eyed black man helping him after he had tried to kill him. The man lowered his eyes to the floor. "Thank you." was all he said.
The commotion had run our meeting behind schedule so Ray announced we would sing the hymn after the sermon. It may seem funny to schedule a meeting around when food would be ready but we had learned if the food was not right, a good memory of the experience would not hold up.
Ray had been speaking for about 30 minutes. He had gotten to the part where the stone rolled away; when he suddenly stopped and starred as we all turned to see Baby Dog and Brutus bring in 4 baby rabbits. They deposited them at the foot of the alter. We all laughed a little as Brutus left.
Baby Dog laid down, the bunnies laid down, when Tilly started calling "Kitty, Kitty." I rolled my eyes and whispered, "What next?" We looked up and my two cats came walking down the aisle and laid down with the rabbits. Brutus returned with a skunk in his mouth. We all gasped. No one dared move yet all seemed poised to run. Then Ray, in a very calm voice, said; "Even a skunk has the right to attend the church of his choice." The entire congregation glanced at our angry guest. He too chuckled. Ray continued his sermon on the resurrection of Jesus and the rebirth Easter celebrated. Then he announced that instead of having everyone sing the hymn to close the meeting he would read it. Everyone agreed as they stared down at our little black and white guest who was sitting peacefully among the other animals. There was no music, not a sound except Ray's low, soft voice.
He read the story of Jesus on the Cross and closed with the rolling away of the stone and the resurrection. A few minutes of silence. There was not a sound in the room.
In a very low, gentle voice, Ray announced the close of the meeting. We all stared at the little skunk. No one moved, except Baby Dog. He nudged the little fellow. We all watched as the skunk slowly made his way out the open door, followed by the cats, Brutus and Baby Dog picked up their charges and followed the two cats. Tilly, who always had the last word, let out a wolf whistle and shouted, "That was a close one." God Bless You All." We all laughed.
Our angry guest got to his feet and an expression of total peace came across his face. He stood up straight. He was no longer stooped over. He moved his shoulder and his neck and a huge smile came across his face. We all smiled. The man shouted, "I've been healed. My anger is gone. I am straight." He started crying and walked over and hugged Andrew and then hugged Ray. "I have been crippled for over ten years." Ray simply said, "Thank you, father."
I hope you gleam a blessing for yourself from this story. Ray's prayer meeting seemed to always involve a miracle or two. I witnessed many such miracles during the eleven years I was married to Ray before he passed away. Expect a miracle in your life. You cannot be deprived of one single blessing meant for you. No one can steal your blessings. Love always wins the day. Hate always cripples us. We are all God's children.
Tags: Easter
I have been through hell and back... guess what..? Hell froze over. I lost power in the middle of a snow storm.
I got me and all the critters under all the blankets I could find. I did not freeze because of the animals laying on me. I did however blackout because of the lack of oxygen. My oxygen machine runs on electricity. I do not know how I got to the emergency shelter. I do know I had been unconscious for two, maybe three days. I woke up in the shelter.
I had not eaten or had anything to drink for days. Even at the emergency shelter, where they took me, I could not keep anything on my stomach. I really thought I was dying. I felt like I was slipping away. Then someone slapped me really hard. It burned and I opened my eyes. It was a big nurse. She grinned, "We got her back." She shouted very loud. She has no idea how close she came to getting hit back. I had the fist made. I think I came back because it made me angry.
I was saved. Someone brought me coffee and two sausage egg sandwiches. I did not ask my stomach if it wanted them or not. I ate them and dared my stomach to give them back. They stayed down. I did cough up a lot of mucus.
I was worried about my fur babies. I asked to be taken home. I finally got home, still no power, no heat, no oxygen. We got back under the covers. My babies were saved. We were there for about 30 minutes. Suddenly, the covers came off.
Power was restored, the police were there with a space heater and an electric blanket. They went to work trying to fix my central heater. They got it running a little. It took the rest of the night but it finally got above freezing in the house.
Send out prayers for those who have lost family members. I watched my fellow Texans immediately offering to help others. There is no need for name calling or hate. I saw more acts of kindness the last few days than you can ever imagine. No one asked what color anyone was, or what political opinion they had. It was "Can I help you?" "What do you need." "Here, lean on me... I'll get you out." Old men with tractors pulling out young men with families trying to get to shelters. Crockpots going with all sorts of soups to be passed out. I instantly contributed the chicken in my freezer along with anything else they might like.
People helping people. That is what America is about. We are all equal. We are all uniquely different but equal in value. Not one flower is more important than another. If we love our neighbor as ourselves... we have peace.
Tags: Surviving
I found a treasure today. I have had it since I was eight years old. Wow. I started glancing over the pages. Oh, my goodness so much love. The year was 1959. It was Saturday. I was eight years old. I kissed Daddy on his cheek and settled on the floor to unwrap my Valentine's day present and card. "A little red book shaped like a heart? I read the front of the book, "My First Diary". I thumbed through the pages. All the pages are blank. What is this?" "It is a diary. Every little girl needs a diary. You can write down all your secrets and talk to it. Take this to Grandmother and she will tell you how to use it. I love you, you are my little Valentine." I looked up into his big brown eyes. I rubbed the top of his head, I loved the feel of his burr haircut. I realize he had given me my valentine first before Mommy even got hers. Things had sure changed since the adoption just three years ago. He made me feel safe and loved. Two things that my sister and I knew nothing about until we were adopted. I approached my grandmother with caution. She was talking about Hoover Dam under her breath as she set about scrubbing her umbrella. Grandmother said damn was a curse word unless you said, Hoover Dam. Hoover Dam is a real place. Anyway, I knew whenever she started talking about Hoover Dam, she was angry about something so I decided to wait before asking about how to use the diary. Anytime there was a Saturday the fourteenth, it followed a Friday the thirteenth. My grandmother had nicknamed Friday the thirteenth as National Pigeon Poop Day. It was, as she had explained it to me, the day when the law of Karma got caught up. At the age of five, six, seven, and eight I had no idea what the law of Karma really was. I did know it was the day that all the pigeons in the world flew all the way up just past cloud nine. Angels handed gave each pigeon a poop listing in their beak as they flew by the opening. It seems if someone has been unkind, cursed, or was rude this law of Karma catches up with them by sending the pigeons out to poop on their heads. Most mortals are unaware of this law and do not realize they earned the poop on their heads. Yesterday, was such a day. Grandmother and I were walking to the corner store one block away. Grandmother carried her umbrella just in case she had ended up on anyone's poop list. When the third pigeon had pooped on her umbrella yesterday I knew there was going to be some discussion about Hoover Dam today. The fact that it was Valentine's day made no difference. Daddy saw me stop before entering the kitchen. There was grandmother washing her umbrella and Hoover Daming all over the place. He gave me a wink and then scooted past me into the room. He put on his biggest grin and said, "Happy Valentine's" as he put his arms around Grandmother. She turned with her umbrella high in the air like she was going to strike him with it. She instantly stopped, dropped her dirty old umbrella, and cupped her face with two soapy hands. "Oh, Son. What have you got there?" It was a brand new, bright red, umbrella with fringe and fancy bows all the way around it. He gave her a peck on the cheek. "Who loves you, Mama?" "I love you so much, Son. This is exactly what I needed. I know I got pooped on because I got carried away with Hoover Dam last week when that door to door salesman would not leave me alone. I told myself, after the fact that I was going to pay for that. Looks like I did." "Mama, do you realize you had your umbrella so the only thing that got pooped on was your old umbrella. Do not go to the trouble to clean it, throw it away. There is no reason to Hoover Dam anything." I could not decide if the magic that happened was because Valentine's had come on a Saturday, the day after Friday the thirteenth. This gave me an idea about my diary. I open it and read, "Dear Diary, it is February fourteenth, 1959 and you and I just met. Valentine's day is special and has a lot to do with love. My Daddy's love for me. His love for my grandmother. Our love for him. It is different than family love because it is personal. We each get a valentine all to ourselves." I turned the page. "Dear Diary, It is Saturday, February fourteenth, 1970. I am nineteen. Bruce and I have been married for just a few months. I have never known such happiness. We are so much in love I can not imagine ever being unhappy again. I got pooped on yesterday. I laughed. I told Bruce about National Pigeon Poop Day. We both laughed. We had decided to not go to church and stay home the following Sunday. That was yesterday. This morning, at the age of eighteen Bruce, had a heart attack. I can only see him once an hour for fifteen minutes. I guess it is good we do not have long. We seem to spend the entire fifteen minutes kissing each other. He told me to check the pocket of his jacket. It is my valentine's card and the charm of a small gold key. The card says it is the key to his heart." I need to make a special note here. Bruce did recover from his first heart attack. However, in 1972, on April twenty-first, my birthday... he passed away in my arms. I had turned twenty-one that day. I also became a widow. We had also never again missed church or went out on Friday the thirteenth without an umbrella. I turned the page. Dear Diary, I am twenty-five, it is 1976. A lot has happened since we last chatted. This is a leap year. I got married again. His name is Vance. He is a very talented man. I teach children with special needs now and he is a public accountant. He also plays the organ beautifully. He plays by ear. It amazes me to watch him listen to a melody on the radio and then sit down and play it. He does not read music. Yesterday, he made fun of me for wearing an umbrella when it was not raining. I told him about National Pigeon Poop Day. We were having Champagne and fried chicken. He poured the wine as he continued to make fun of my grandmother's superstitions. He raised his glass to mine and said, "This is love, YUKE!!" A pigeon pooped right in his glass. I laughed out loud. He put on his baseball cap and got under the umbrella with me. Valentine's love is magical because it can help you express your love through laughter and the pure joy of being with the one you love. I turned the page. Dear Diary, I am thirty, it is 1981. Vance passed away of Leukemia last month. The flowers and valentine he had ordered for me arrived this morning along with a tape of him playing the organ. I could feel his strength and determination supporting me and giving me comfort. I even got a giggle as I played the tape. I still had the baseball cap he always wore. I put it on yesterday to go to the store. Sure enough, a pigeon poop right on my head. I had forgotten my umbrella. I know for certain Valentine love is magic. Pigeon Poop Day is the pits. I turned the page. Dear Diary, I am thirty-six years old, it is 1987. I am getting married again. Ray, a much older, country preacher has asked me to marry him. He is what grandmother would call a long drink of water. He stands six foot six and weighs at least two hundred and fifty pounds. He has a voice that would melt butter. It is baritone and soft. When he preaches, he does not need a microphone. We will be living out at the lake. He has snow-white hair. I told him last Thursday to not have the group meeting today. I had to tell him about National Pigeon Poop Day. A whole group of us were going out to the lake house. He assured me we did not have pigeons out at the lake. I felt a little uneasy but decided I was being silly. We got everything unpacked. Ray was standing in front of the whole group. I have no idea what he was going to so but it came out, "Oh, crap." Two doves flew over him and pooped right on his head. I sat there under my umbrella laughing and could not seem to stop. Today he asked me to marry him. He said he knew he had to marry a woman who had pigeon poop cleaner in her purse on Friday the thirteen. Valentine's love is beautiful. There is nothing more beautiful than a heart that is changing. Valentine's love allows the heart to grow and make room for more love. I turned the page. Dear Diary, I am forty-seven years old, it is Saturday, Valentine's day 1998. Ray passed away in his sleep this morning. Yesterday was special. We spent the entire day together, under umbrellas, just enjoying each other's company. It was a quiet time, it was an early Valentine. We went to the park down by the lake and necked in the car. We watched the moon come up over the water. Everything was going great until the police officer shined a light into our car. We showed him our wedding rings. As Ray was getting out his driver's license, a dove flew over and pooped on the officer. It was truly an unusual day. When we went to sleep last night neither one of us knew it would be our last kiss. Valentine's love brings with it an assurance that you are loved. I turned the page. Dear Diary, I am fifty-three years old, it is Saturday, February fourteenth, 2004. I am a widow again. I lost my beloved saxophone player in 2000. Yesterday was interesting. I thought I was going to have a quiet day. I decided to go to the card shop and buy as many valentines as I could. I then went to the senior center with a potbellied pig named Hamlet, a white shepherd named snowball, and a white cat named cupid. My hair is turning white from the blonde it has always been. We all had umbrellas and were all leashed together. Hamlet had on white boots that had rubber soles. It allowed him to walk on the tile floor without slipping. I had a sash I made that said, "The Blonde Gang", and we made our entrance. I have no idea how this idea came to me but I knew I was not going to spend Valentine's Day in the blues. We entered the senior center. We were instantly stopped by a not so friendly red-head who was accompanied by a woman that had jet black hair piled upon her head like a beehive. She had wicked-looking glasses that seem to have sculptured wings coming off the frame. "You cannot bring those animals in here." She said this as she put her hand up with her palm facing me. I answered her in a very meek (I surprised myself) voice. "I have an appointment with Mr. Davis." About that time I spotted Mr. Davis coming to me. He was a doctor here at the center and he had watched Hamlet get married several times when I had my act. He went right past the "now very pissed" redhead and black-haired b-witch. "Ladies, let our entertainment on through to my office. You will be amazed at how talented this sweet little lady is. I do mean lady too. Come, dear." He took me by the elbow, I nodded to the two ladies and grinned deep inside. I was not thinking kind thoughts. We did our show. Even the grumpy girls enjoyed it. I chastised myself for thinking unkind thoughts. We were leaving. We had the car doors open. I had put the animals into the van. I open the drivers' side door and plop. A pigeon pooped on my umbrella. I laughed all the way home. Boy, that stuff is hard to cleanout. This morning Snowball woke me up by hitting me in the head with something in his mouth. It was you. I got my giggle and I got to experience the magic of Valentine's love again. It lasts. It is a love that never fails you. I turned the page. Dear Diary. I am fifty-eight. It is 2009. I retired just last year. I went on disability and decided to take early retirement. I got a proposal today. Yes, a very sweet proposal. A wonderful couple who live across the street wanted to spend the entire day together alone. They asked me to baby-sit their seven-year-old little boy. He is adorable. He had on a cowboy hat, cowboy boots, and swede vest with leather fringe, and a smile with only one tooth missing in front. I made him chocolate chip pancakes. He ate every one. He then asked me to sit down on the sofa with me. I sat beside him. He stood up on the sofa, boots and all, cupped my face in his tiny little hands, and said, "Will you mmmarry me? (He was having problems with his 'm's and 'L's'). I wuv you." I hugged my new suitor and we giggled. Nothing happened yesterday... almost nothing. I was out on the back patio. I had already been on my walk and put everything down on the deck chair while I got the key out. Suddenly, a dove pooped on the umbrella sitting in the chair. I had to laugh... I mean... really? I turned to the last entry. Dear Diary, I am sixty-four and it is 2015. I am going to start with yesterday first. I volunteered to help a friend out at a small neighborhood bar for the day. She had also retired but when her husband passed, she took over his little club. Anyway, she knew we would be busy on a Friday because it was payday out at the plant. Things were moving along just fine. One man, however, decided I was new, old, and stupid. I am not sure how he got that idea. I decided to 'really' him. He was going on and on about all his accomplishments. With each one he seemed to pause to see if I was actually believing all his stuff. All I said was, "Really?" Then he would continue. The man talked for nearly three hours. I was working and waiting on people, but he just kept talking. Finally, I decided to put an end to it. I said dear sir then I methodically went through his previous testimony and pointed out the spots that could not be true if one of the other things were true. He looked surprised. I said now I am going to tell you something that will really surprise you... I have outlived four husbands. I turned to get a towel and looked back up and he had disappeared. I had to laugh. My friend and I both laughed about that one. I think my pigeon is getting ready to retire or someone is training a new one. He totally missed my umbrella and pooped right in front of me on the sidewalk. I stepped right in it. That was a Hoover Dam moment for sure. This morning I was quietly having my coffee out on the deck. It dawned on me it was Saturday, Valentine's day. I was alone. I had successfully chased away a would-be suitor. I thought about the four wonderful love affairs I have had. Each with a husband who loved me dearly. I would say Valentine's love is special because it endures. It is not brass and all puffed up. I felt a wet nose come up under my hand. It was T-Bone, my dog... He has something in his mouth. I opened it. It is a valentine. It starts, "We love you with all our hearts." It showed four boys all giving a heart to a woman. I knew whoever T-Bone stole this from, it was meant for me. Valentine's love is magic and it is real. Everything else is pigeon poop.
Tags: Valentines Romance Humor
George, a new neighbor of mine, showed up at my door with two men. I was curious, to say the least. I had taken George to the senior center here in town and introduced him around so he could get to know some of the residences. Actually, George just recently retired and moved to Texas. He was a New York policeman. Poor dear. Anyway, he and I got off to a rough start as neighbors when he tried to kill my pet squirrel, Oscar. I had decided and followed through with teaching George how things worked in the South. It was either that or hang him. George has a cat named Bertha, who Oscar adores. Oscar's story started with a cat named Ashley who pass a while back. My idea was to introduce George to a couple of old goats at the senior center so he would stop popping up at my door. You see, George does not need a walker, he has hair, and he is active. He is also surrounded by widows. Several times a week I see my neighbors taking covered dishes to George. In the South, we still think the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. George had started coming over to my house to play with Oscar, which is really an excuse not to answer his own front door. Once he started going to the senior center and playing dominos I thought maybe I had escaped the burden of being a hostess. I do not mind it once in a while, but three times a week is just a bit much. I had other things to do than entertain a damned Yankee. Yankee is a Northern born person who moves to the South and returns to the North. A damned Yankee is one who stays. I was totally surprised to see three men standing at my front door. It had to be in the morning when I had lost my teeth. I could not remember where I had left them. I know, how they got lost is not important, the fact that they were lost and 3 MEN AT THE DOOR. I quickly brushed my hair, threw on my eyelashes, and put on my best mask. I looked at the three masked men at my front door. I thought quickly about what a time we live in. If I had seen three masked men at my door last year, I would have called the police. I open the door. "Jane, can we play dominos at your house?" George had a box of chocolates in his hand and a look of desperation in his eyes. I stepped aside and showed the gentlemen in. "They shut down the senior center until everyone gets vaccinated for the virus. I was so glad I had a mask. No one would know I did not have my teeth in. I sat down in my big barrel chair and the three gentlemen sat in the oversized chairs and love seat that made up the rest of my living room. George started introducing the men to me. He turned to one man about the time Oscar came scampering into the room. George and I were so used to Oscar greeting everyone we did not think about it. Oscar hopped on the first guy's shoe and he screamed and shook his foot, sending Oscar flying into the barrel chair. "He is after my nuts," the man kept shouting. "He is trying to get up my pants, he is.." the poor man grabs his crotch and sits down. He then bends down while he is sitting and pulls his socks over the cuff of his pants. His eyes are huge. He can't take his eyes off Oscar. "Squirrel, squirrel, " the other man starts shouting. He copies what he sees his brother do. George did not help, he started laughing. Not just a little giggle, he hit his leg and held his tummy, and laughed right out loud. "I said squirrel not girl." The first man said. It was apparent the second guy was hard of hearing. "Come on Clyde, you should be proud of your brother." George is trying to calm things down. "Face it, George, he is dull. You can't tell it now, but he fell off the turnip truck last Wednesday and we did not miss him until yesterday." George got up, still laughing but at least trying not to. He motioned for the gentlemen to join him at the kitchen table. Oscar had run to me. He was sitting on top of my head. I was sitting in the barrel chair, (like the Southern Lady I am), laughing a toothless laugh behind my mask. I put my hands up, "Gentlemen, Oscar lives here, he is tame, he is harmless and very friendly." I allowed Oscar to come down my arm to the floor. He scampered over to George, who picked him up and stroked him. The two men (notice I did not call them gentlemen) sat there motionless with their mouths open and masks dangling off one ear. They watched as George stroked Oscar. I had to ask. "George, why can you not play dominos at your house?" "The snowstorm left me with a busted water pipe. The plumber is over there now fixing it. I had to turn the water off." George shrugged his shoulders as the two men started setting up the dominos. "You lied to me Jane, you said Texas rarely gets snow." I looked at George, "We rarely get Yankees either, but here you are." We both laughed. I made the coffee, left out the cups, and left the room without checking to see where everyone was first. Neither did I notice the laundry room door had eased open. The doggy door is in the laundry room. All fur people use that door. I went into the master bedroom just off the kitchen. I proceeded to close the bathroom doors so that whoever used it would have privacy. Suddenly I hear total chaos. I walked back into the kitchen. There the two masked men with their pant cuffs inside their socks holding onto coffee cups, squeezed under the kitchen table with George running through the living room trying to get the box of dominos from Oscar while Grammy sat guarding the prisoners with chatter and waving hands. Sweet Pea was very busy trying to kiss everyone and Bella kept hitting one of the guys in the head with a ball. Bertha had arrived and was laid out in the middle of the kitchen table. "George, you said we would get true Sothern Hospitality here. Is this it?" "Clyde let's go back to New York." I clapped my hands and shooed all fur babies into the master bedroom. I refilled the coffee cups. All without saying a word. I had rescued the dominos. I put them in the middle of the table. I motioned for all of them to be seated. I looked at each of them with my hands on my hips. "First of all, you need to know that Southern Squirrels look for nuts in the yard. and second, one more word out of you damned Yankees and I'm gettin' the rope."
I left the room. They finished their game, the plumber came by to let George know everything was fixed. All three men left. I closed the door afterward, sat down, and laughed my head off. What are the odds that George would move to Texas and find two more retirees from New York? All of a sudden I burped. I had to laugh; I knew it was just Grandmother haunting me from her grave. Sothern ladies do not burp.
Tags: Retirement Humor
I am a widow who lives alone... except for two pet squirrels and two dogs. Recently, I had (I am from Texas) a new neighbor move in down the block. He is from New York. His first introduction to my house is another story altogether. Let's just say it was a rough start. I was in the hospital the first time he came here. It was even rougher when he tried to kill Oscar, my pet squirrel.
Most of my followers know Oscar now so I won't go into his story. Let's just say Oscar and his wife Grammy live in a small cat tree on the top of my dryer in the laundry room. My new neighbor's name is George. He is a retired New York policeman. He and Oscar have become friends now. Oscar loves cats and George has one. George, (please don't laugh), walks his cat on a leash. Right out in front for everyone to see. He can't believe the dogs' bark... really! Poor guy. He just does not understand Southern dogs... they gossip about everything. I feel sorry for New York dogs who are used to seeing cats on a leash.
Anyway, Oscar got into George's house by way of an open window and started playing with George's cat. Christmas day George and his cat sang under the tree with Oscar and Grammy dancing on a branch above them. This is why I invited George to bring Bertha, (the cat), over to bring in the New Year.
George is surrounded by several widows who now know he too is single. He hides over here. He knows he is safe here. I don't have a gun but right now he still thinks I am harmless. George and Bertha showed up just as dark came sneaking in and we could see the first twinkling of stars. I had prepared cheese, summer sausage, crackers, and wine for snacks. I thought I would scare him a little. "I thought we would start in the bedroom George." He suddenly jumped up from his chair, I could see he was rubbing his forehead and twitching trying to decide if he should just scream or run out the door all at once. "The TV is in there and we can set up to watch the different celebrations. I think they are still going to have the ball drop in New York even if no one will be there." He exhaled, took a gulp of his coffee, and actually laughed a bit.
"I sure appreciate this, Jane. The other girls in the neighborhood have brought me so many things to eat I won't need to go to the grocery for a month. I did not know there were so many when I moved into the neighborhood. They all want to know what I need. I have listened to all sorts of things they need. You would not believe me."
"I do understand you, George. You can't do something just cause someone needs it. Heck, a gator needs to eat but that doesn't mean you gotta jump into his mouth. Right?" "Oh, you are so right." George relaxed a bit and laughed. We both went into the bedroom and he saw where I had set up a card table with a lazy boy on one side and the bed on another. The big-screen TV was set up with remote control to the ready. I motioned for him to take the lazy-boy. The minute he sat down, I knew things were not going to go smoothly.
Bertha jumped on the lazy-boy, Sweet Pea (150-pound greyhound) licked her from nose to tail end, Bella (40-pound lab mix) grabbed her by the neck and ran through the house like Bertha was a new toy. Bertha is screaming, Geoge is yelling, Sweet Pea is barking and I am waving my arms just enough to throw the chocolate dip all over George's shirt. George stopped the minute the hot chocolate dip hit his skin. I dropped my donut holes and toothpicks. I grabbed George by the shoulder. "Just sit and watch... please." He did. He sat down with the towel I had thrown him and started trying to wipe his shirt.
We watched as Bella carried Bertha to a soft bed just beside my head pillows on the bed. Oscar and Grammy were there. Oscar started stroking Bertha. Grammy nudged her with her nose. Bertha started purring. Sweet Pea kissed Bella. Sweet Pea could not reach the spot in the bed and is too old to jump but she did cry just a little as she watched the squirrels work their magic. I tossed George one of my oversized throws to put around him. He gave me his shirt and I put it in the washer. I plugged in the throw so he was warm as well. We all had a good laugh at the event.
I had more dip and lobster forks. I had cheddar cheese dip, chocolate dip, swiss cheese dip, spinach, and sour cream dip, and salsa dip. George was puzzled until I used the lobster fork to pick up a piece of popcorn, dip it, and pop it into my mouth. I then brought in a bowl of ham cubes, and donut holes. He grinned. "This looks like fun." George had never had such a thing. Pour guy...
You would think that was the end of all the excitement. George and I were watching a leftover Christmas movie when suddenly we looked up and the chief of police and "the town gossip" were standing in the doorway looking at us. There was George (without a shirt) and me sitting on the bed playing with squirrels. "Hi chief, were we too loud?"
"No, your neighbor said she thought you might be having problems and asked me to come to check." The look on her face told me my reputation at the grocery store would be changed by morning. That is okay, heck she has everyone thinking I am a psycho anyway. That is another story.
I started to explain, "George got dip on his shirt so I am washing it, he brought Bertha over to play with Oscar..."
"You don't have to explain a thing. You all have a good evening."
The chief turned red in the face and then took the mouth opened, staring, town gossip, by the arm and lead her to the front door. Before they disappeared through the door I heard the chief tell her, "Little lady, if I hear anything about this tomorrow, you will be in trouble. Jane has every right to have as much or as little company as she wants."
"George, that was the town gossip. You will be a playboy by ten tomorrow morning." The look on his face made me laugh out loud. "I guess I won't be getting any more food from the neighborhood." George laughed. He knows nothing about Southern women. I just realized exactly what it meant. It also means he will be coming here to hide more. Yikes! I gotta get him to the senior center to meet with some domino playing old goats who used to be squirrels.
George's shirt got cleaned and dried. We had popcorn dipped in all the dips. We watched movies, watch 2020 go out in several areas of the world. We talked about all the things the world had learned about this year. Everyone had learned about the importance of priorities. I told George I thought every single person on the earth changed at least one priority in 2020. We learned more about the world we live in as well.
At midnight Bertha, Oscar, Grammy, and both dogs were all sleeping together. When the fireworks started outside... Sweet Pea got up (disturbing all who had found softness in her fur) and put her head under the bed. They all settled back down into her fur. George and I laughed. I also learned that even someone from New York could be good company on a quiet New Years' Eve.
Tags: New Years Eve
Music is a major part of my day each day. I do everything (but watch TV) with music going. I have several devices that play recorded music. I have a tiny tape player, a CD player, a larger tape player, etc. I even have players on my PC, laptop... you get the picture. I have organized my selections according to the device. I have "The Golden Oldies" playing on CD on a small portable unit. I have a tiny portable that is dedicated to the Beatles. I also have several devices dedicated to classical music. I enjoy dancing barefoot in the kitchen while I am cooking, washing dishes, etc. My fur people also live with this arrangement. I did not ask them if they wanted it I just do it. It had come to my attention over Christmas that things had changed a little and I did not realize it. I was listening to Christmas songs by Frank Sinatra, Mathis, Dean Martin, etc. I had set the Beatles songs going in the bedroom and the Golden Oldies going in the kitchen. I also had classical going into the office. I was going from room to room through my day and enjoying the contrast and mood of each musical selection I encountered. I became very focused on picking up the house and getting everything ready for a day of watching Christmas Movies. I was busy in the kitchen making the popcorn, creating finger snacks, and a tray of treats. I never noticed that the music in the bedroom was no longer playing. I could not hear it. I was setting stuff up on the "table" in the bedroom, just beside the bed. Remote control, the food, the drinks, clearing the path to the bathroom, trash can setup, and pillow support where needed. It suddenly dawned on me that I was hearing the words "All You Need Is Love" but from a distance. Like the music was not in the room with me anymore. I started trying to find where the music was coming from. It seemed to be coming from outside. I pulled back the drapes and laughed. Going down the street was a guy, walking his cat, and suddenly he was singing along with the music. He finished his walk but I still could not determine where the music was coming from. I suddenly heard, right outside my window, "Love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love, love
There's nothing you can do that can't be done
Nothing you can sing that can't be sung
Nothing you can say, but you can learn how to play the game
It's easy" It was George, my neighbors, the man with the cat on a leash. I waved to him but the light was just right so that he could not see inside the house. He had no idea I could see him. He was singing the song and doing a little dance. His cat was weaving in and out of his legs as if they were dancing. I had to laugh. "Oscar, he said, play some more." I could not see Oscar, my pet squirrel. I had not realized that Oscar and Grammy were both missing from the cat tree on the top of the dryer. Then I got a quick glimpse of him. He was dragging my little tape player with him as he scampered back up the tree. The music stopped. George put his hand out palm up and offered to help Oscar. The tape was on a loop playback setting but the off button had been pushed. George pushed the button. "Nothing you can make that can't be made
No one you can save that can't be saved
Nothing you can do, but you can learn how to be you in time
It's easy" A few minutes later, Oscar had scampered out on that branch of the tree. The music was still going. George and his cat followed the music. They were dancing a little to the music. A couple of ladies joined the chorus from across the street. They too were senior citizens walking with what looked to be their grandchildren. The young boy and girl with them started singing along. Everyone was wearing masks, everyone was singing, everyone was waving their arms and doing a little dance. I looked again at Oscar and Grammy and sure enough, a few more squirrels had joined the party. The song really fits the situation. No refreshments. All had started as strangers. All had bowed to each other. All had sung a little, danced a little, and enjoyed themselves. I watched it in total fascination. Each group slowly went on their way while they continued to sing along. The words of the chorus really rang true. "All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all you need" I looked down the street and there were a group of people with masks on pushing carts going down the street. They had started to sing the song. A couple started waving their arms and really getting into the words. They stopped and looked around to try and figure out where the music was coming from. They finally spotted Oscar and Grammy up on the tree branch hugging each other and then waving their arms and hugging again. The strap to the recorder was still caught on Oscar's left foot but his tail was flickering to the beat... so to speak. "There's nothing you can know that isn't known
Nothing you can see that isn't shown
There's nowhere you can be that isn't where you're meant to be" The two people looked at each other and just hugged for a very long time. They then waved their arms and did the hug, just like Oscar and Grammy. They were all singing in chorus as the tape continued. I spent the rest of the afternoon watching as people passed by the house. As they came within earshot of the music, they started singing along. Some stopped and watch Oscar and Grammy play and hug each other. Some just clapped and danced a little. Around dusk, I decided the neighborhood had heard enough and went out and called Oscar and Grammy into the house. Just before I turned it off I turned the volume up very loud and let it finish: "It's easy
All you need is love
All you need is love
All you need is love, love
Love is all" I then shut off the machine and we all came in for the evening. I had spent Christmas day watching, "Peace on Earth and Good Will to Man" presented by the Beatles and two rodents. It was a delightful day.
Tags: Christmas Pets
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